Read My Werewolf Boyfriend :: The Forbidden Bloodline

When Emma came to, her head throbbed, and the air was thick with the scent of mildew and old wood. She blinked, her vision adjusting to the dim light of a flickering chandelier above. She was lying on a cold, stone floor, surrounded by walls lined with faded tapestries and ornate, yet crumbling, carvings.

“Where… am I?” she whispered, her voice echoing in the vast, empty room.

“Welcome to the Blackwood Estate,” a voice drawled from the shadows. A man stepped into the light, his dark hair slicked back, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and menace. “Or as we like to call it, the last safe haven for people like you.”

Emma scrambled to her feet, her back pressing against the wall. “People like me? What are you talking about? Who are you?”

The man smirked, pulling a cigarette from his pocket and lighting it with a flick of his silver lighter. “Name’s Henry Thomas. And as for what you are… well, let’s just say you’re not exactly human anymore, darling.”

Emma’s breath hitched. “What? That’s insane! I’m not—I can’t be—”

Henry Thomas exhaled a plume of smoke, his gaze steady. “Denial’s cute, but it won’t change the facts. You’ve been kissed, haven’t you? By one of them?”

Her mind flashed back to Owen—his transformation, the moment he’d lunged at her. “No,” she whispered, shaking her head. “No, this isn’t happening.”

Henry Thomas’s smirk widened. “Welcome to the pack, Emma. Whether you like it or not, you’re one of us now.”

As his words sank in, Emma’s legs gave out again, and she slumped to the floor, her mind spinning with questions she wasn’t sure she wanted answered. The flickering chandelier above cast long, twisting shadows on the walls, and for the first time, Emma felt the weight of the unknown pressing down on her like a suffocating blanket.

Some doors, once opened, could never be closed again.

The flickering fluorescent light buzzed above, casting an eerie glow on the cold steel tables and glass jars filled with unidentifiable specimens. Emma groaned, her head throbbing as she tried to sit up. Her wrists were bound by leather straps, the smell of antiseptic burning her nostrils.

The door creaked open, and Owen stepped in, his usual confident stride slightly faltering. "You’re awake," he said, his voice calm but laced with something she couldn’t quite place—guilt? Concern?

"Where am I?" Emma demanded, her voice sharp despite her disorientation. "What is this place?"

Owen approached cautiously, his hands raised as if calming a wild animal. "It’s a lab. You’re safe, Emma. I promise."

"Safe? Strapped to a table, surrounded by... whatever this is?" She jerked against the restraints, her eyes blazing. "You lied to me, Owen. You’re one of them, aren’t you?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It’s not that simple. My family—the Thomas family—has been searching for a way to break the curse for generations. Your bloodline... it’s the key."

Emma froze, her mind racing. "My bloodline? What are you talking about?"

Owen hesitated, his gaze flickering to the floor. "You’re not just human, Emma. Your ancestors were part of the original pact that created the werewolf curse. Your blood could hold the cure."

She stared at him, a mix of anger and disbelief churning in her chest. "So, what? I’m just a lab rat to you? A means to an end?"

"No," Owen said quickly, stepping closer. "It’s not like that. I didn’t want this to happen, but my family... they don’t give me a choice."

Emma’s voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes narrowing. "There’s always a choice, Owen. You just chose them over me."

He flinched, but before he could respond, the door slammed shut behind him, leaving Emma alone in the suffocating silence.

Her mind raced as she stared at the ceiling, the weight of her situation pressing down on her. She thought of her father, Logan, and her friend James. Were they looking for her? Could they even find her in this nightmare?

The dim glow of a single bulb flickered in the cramped living room of Logan’s rundown apartment. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and desperation.

James Lee leaned against the cracked wall, his arms crossed, while Noah paced the floor, his boots thudding against the creaky boards. Logan sat hunched on the edge of a worn-out couch, his hands trembling as he clutched a faded photograph of Emma.

“You’re telling me Emma’s mother was a wolf?” James’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and skeptical. “And now she’s… what? Half-human, half-wolf? That’s not exactly something you hear every day.”

Logan’s eyes darted to the floor, guilt etched into every line of his face. “I didn’t want to believe it either. Her mother… she was different. Beautiful, but different. When Emma was born, it cost her everything.” His voice cracked, and he swallowed hard. “I couldn’t protect her mother, but I have to save Emma. She’s all I have left.”

Noah stopped pacing and shot James a look. “You hear that, bro? Sounds like a classic case of ‘damsel in distress.’ But with fangs.”

James ignored the sarcasm, his gaze fixed on Logan. “Why come to us? Why not the cops? Or some supernatural task force?”

Logan laughed bitterly, a hollow sound that echoed in the room. “The cops? They’d lock her up or worse. And the supernatural world? They’d kill her on sight. She’s a forbidden child, James. A mistake. But she’s my daughter.”

The wind howled outside, rattling the windows as if the night itself was trying to break in. James straightened, his jaw tightening. “Alright. We’ll get her back. But you need to tell us everything. No more secrets.”

Logan nodded, relief washing over his face. “Thank you. I knew you’d understand.”

“Understand?” Noah muttered, rolling his eyes. “More like we’re walking into a werewolf soap opera.”

James shot him a warning look. “Focus, Noah. This isn’t a joke.”

James stood, his voice urgent. “There’s more. The pack that took her… they’re not just any wolves. They’re led by a man named Henry Thomas. He’s dangerous, even by their standards.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed. “Henry Thomas? Any relation to the Henry Thomas who wiped out half the hunters in the Northern Territories?”

James nodded grimly. “The same. ”

The room fell silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on them.

Outside, the neon light of a nearby sign flickered, casting eerie shadows on the walls. James turned to Noah, his expression resolute.

“We need to move quickly. No more delays.”

As they stepped into the cold night, the wind carrying the faint scent of pine and danger, Noah glanced at James. “You sure about this? Sounds like we’re walking into a trap.”

James didn’t look back. “Probably. But since when has that ever stopped us?”

Noah chuckled, flipping the switchblade in his hand. “True. Let’s just hope Emma’s worth it.”

James’s voice was firm, leaving no room for doubt. “She is.”

The neon light above them flickered, casting their shadows long and distorted on the pavement. Somewhere in the distance, a howl echoed through the night. The hunt had begun.