Page 6 of My Pucking Mates (Pucking Werewolves #4)

D olos launching the dish debris at me finally released the spell of shock my body was under. Doing my best to keep all my emotions from bursting out of me in front of him when he’s already frightened, I school my facial features and move towards them to check on Mama.

I check her pulse first to make sure she’s alive. Her heartbeat is thankfully strong but erratic. I let Dolos know before I begin scanning her body for other visible injuries.

The only thing we know is that she was holding her chest before she passed out. If something was wrong with her heart, I don’t think it would still be beating as strongly as it is.

Scanning through the knowledge we’ve accumulated from Mama and Pop over the years, with the additions of our occasional tutors, my only options are a broken bond or a broken heart.

If something happened to Pop and he died…that could cause a broken bond, but that doesn’t explain the yelling or smashed dishes.

I’ve never understood why fated mates were so important to people when this was the kind of partnership you could have. One where the man and father of the house is a total ass and doesn’t have a caring bone in his body. Is that what finding your mate does to men?

I need to find out what happened.

Either something happened to Pop and thus, hurt Mama, or he…

Would he really?

Yes, I think he would.

If he’s alive, he left her and rejected her, severing their bond.

If that’s what happened, she’s not out of the woods yet.

It was stressed in our studies that the pain of a severed mate bond can be fatal.

Allowing myself only a minute to watch where Dolos is curled around Mama, rubbing her lovingly, I turn on my heel and leave our home in the dead of night.

Mama and Dolos need me. I have to find out what happened.

I follow Pop’s scent to either where he is or where he’s been. There’s a substantial lack of surprise when I’m led to a dingy-looking pub with drunk people hanging all over each other outside the building and staggering away. Unfortunately, one of those people is the man who gave me life.

Drawing in a breath to contain my rage, I approach where he’s plastered against a tall woman with her legs wrapped completely around him.

They’re not only plastered together, but they’re also sharing a sloppy, drunken kiss.

This piece of shit is railing this woman, out in the open, minutes after destroying my mother’s life.

“You,” I growl, the sound coming out loud in the quiet night surrounding us. Even the bugs stop chirping, and the heads of many swaying bodies turn towards me, while a few take off.

We may only be twelve years old, but werewolves age much differently than humans.

We’re nearly fully grown by the time we’re fourteen.

I still have some growing to do, but my father raised me to be strong.

He made sure I could both take a beating and deliver one… and that’s exactly what I intend to do.

He growls, removes himself from the woman, and turns toward me with drunken rage in his hooded eyes while he buttons his britches. “Get outta here. You’re not my problem anymore.” He chuckles with a look in his eyes that says he thinks he was able to hurt my feelings.

The bark of laughter that echos around us surprises him, and he pauses his retreat. Turning his face back to look at me—really look at me—his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I’m most definitely still your problem—though not the problem you were expecting, I’d presume,” I scoff at him in a challenging voice.

Having his full attention, he takes a step towards me, pointing his crooked finger in my direction. The same finger he used as a lesson to teach us about how upsetting the wrong people can get you hurt. Seems the old man didn’t learn his own lessons.

“Go back to your home and stay there. You won’t be seeing me anymore. Not you. Not your worthless mother. And definitely not your idiot-fucking-brother,” he yells into the night, causing the woman behind him to flinch and begin to move away.

Without any qualms of the consequences, I plow into him, slamming his body against the dingy pub by his neck. I’m vibrating with a level of anger I’ve never experienced before.

“The only worthless one here is you. But don’t worry, Pop . You won’t be seeing anyone, anymore, after tonight,” I snarl into his ear so that only he can hear me.

“Beat it,” I bark at the woman, who doesn’t think twice before bolting away.

The alcohol on his breath is so strong that it makes my nose burn, and my eyes try to water. “Stop. Breathing.” I growl as I continue to choke him, which would be much more difficult if he wasn’t so fucking drunk.

Just before his eyes roll into the back of his head, I allow him enough oxygen to not pass out. I can’t carry or drag the heavy bastard on my own, and we’ve already had too many witnesses. It needs to look as though I’m helping my drunken father return home.

Once we’re out of sight of the pub and any lingering patrons, I redirect the course of our destination to the bridge over the dam between the villages to take care of this stain on our lives once and for all.