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  MASKED SHEWOLF

  BOOK 2

  UNMASKED

  YARA GHARIOS

  UnMasked

  By Yara Gharios

  Copyright 2015 Yara Gharios

  Smashwords Edition

  This book is available in print on Amazon

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Preface

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Acknowledgements

  About

  Titles

  Sneak Peek

  To Nancy.

  No words are needed. You know.

  PREFACE

  Dylan

  I’m not such an idiot to think I can take him. I know he’s ten times stronger than I am. He’d probably have me on the ground, begging for my life, and stomp on me, before I can even get the chance to lift a finger.

  But I’m not planning on taking him down. This monster thinks he can break me before anyone can find me. But he didn’t count on me having an advantage. He also didn’t count on the fact that I have an entire pack who would literally wipe the floor with him, just because he threatened to hurt me.

  If only I could speak, I would tell him to be afraid. Because the ones I love are coming for him.

  Part 1

  Michael

  CHAPTER 1

  Daniel

  One of my proudest moments as a child was when I was ten and I learned to spin a basketball on only one of my fingers for fourteen whole seconds. It was childish, I know, but that was when I knew I wanted to have a career in sports. Before I knew it, I was looking up everything I could find on basketball and practicing with my dad and my brothers to be able to make it on the team.

  There’s no such thing as ‘going easy on someone’ in my family, which is a good thing, because it toughened up my game to the point where I could hold my own against any of them by the time I was fourteen.

  I’ve been on the team since then, and we’ve been going on an undefeated streak this whole time. I’m not going to lie, the popularity is a perk I’ve enjoyed during all those years. But I love the thrill of the game a whole lot more than what it brings me socially. Playing releases any tension I might be feeling, and replaces it with a glow of freshness, albeit a sweaty one. It helps me clear my head when I have too much thoughts jumping around in there, and it’s almost an escape for me now, when life at home or at school becomes too hectic and I need a breather.

  Michael spent all afternoon with me the day I learned to spin the ball, and cheered me on to keep me going. I don’t think I would have been able to do that by myself without the encouragement. I’ve always taken it for granted that I have a twin brother who is different, but I never paid attention to the importance of Mickey’s existence before.

  It’s hard to say when I started seeing my twin for who she really is; my sister. My entire life, she was just another one of my brothers, even though, theoretically, I always knew she was anything but. She’s the only female werewolf to be born in centuries. This puts her in a vulnerable position, because if someone found out she exists, they would try to use her to create stronger children. That’s why it’s been so important for her to pass off as a boy her entire life.

  Mickey has never said a word of complaint about that until about a couple weeks ago, when she almost had an emotional attack. It’s what happens when we’re overwhelmed, and we just burst into wolf form. It was a little before that that I was starting to see her differently. I can’t say precisely when that change started, but I am aware of why.

  My instincts towards her are still the same, only a bit amplified. Beneath our mocking and pranking each other, I’ve always felt a bit protective of her, although I made a good effort to hide it. I think we all did, in a way that’s different from Mom and Dad’s protectiveness. Her true gender was becoming more and more evident to me, and it’s been changing my perception of her, although not in a bad way. But I know it’s not just because of her; I’ve changed too.

  My sister’s depression is not the only thing keeping me up so late. A few days ago, something happened that I still can’t wrap my head around. For the past few weeks, I’ve been secretly dating Zoey. She’s part of the pack who just moved into town a while back. In fact, though she’s human, she’s a very important member, because the pack’s second in command –or beta– is her future brother-in-law.

  Keeping our relationship secret worries me, but it’s not really the reason I can’t get any sleep. I’m not ashamed of her; I love her. She’s the one insisting we find the right time to tell our parents, and with everything that’s going on with Mickey that we still can’t figure out, it’s not a good time.

  The reason I’m still up is something else altogether. Zoey and I bonded over a delicate issue she was going through. Her biological father had been unfaithful to her mother, and had a son a few months older than Zoey’s older sister Sadie, with another woman. His name is John. Helping Zoey accept his existence was what got us together.

  But we never expected him to say that he knows about werewolves, and that I am one. It was actually the first thing he said during the one time we spoke to him through video chat. Next thing I knew, Zoey slammed the laptop screen shut, and we couldn’t decide how to proceed from there. She’s been texting with him since then, giving him excuses as to why she can’t video chat again for a while, and blaming the interrupted first try on a Wi-Fi problem.

  I haven’t really seen her since then outside of school, where we try to avoid being seen together, and we’re both too afraid to bring up his name on the phone. I know we’re going to have to face him sooner or later, and it’s smarter if we do it before he has the chance to tell anyone. But we’re both reluctant, and neither of us is willing to take that first step.

  While all these thoughts go through my head, I sit there in my room staring at the basketball spinning on my finger, arguing with myself over whether or not it would be a good idea to go to the basketball court at this hour and let off some steam. Mom and Dad have a strict curfew for Mickey and I on school nights. Right now, though, I think Mickey has a much bigger restriction to follow. She can’t leave the house till Friday, when her… womanly issue, is over.

  It’s completely unfair. Man, how I wish human medicine works on werewolves. Maybe then, my sister wouldn’t be locked up in the house for five days every month, one of which is just a precaution because my parents are paranoid like that. I think the
reason why none of us ever said anything to them about that is because Mickey never seemed to mind until her attack. But now, all she does is mope around the house like a zombie all day. I can’t help wanting to stick up for her and berate our parents for being so strict.

  Something is up with her that none of us are able to make sense of. Like last week for example, she completely missed War Day! It’s our tradition to play pranks on each other every Sunday, and retaliate the next week. She was the one who started the tradition in the first place, but now it’s like she’s lost the will to even think of something to pull. Just this morning, I overheard her talking to Mom and Dad.

  “Dylan, will you please talk to us?” Mom begged her.

  “About what?” was her robotic response.

  “We just want to know what happened,” Dad asked.

  “Why are you so sad, honey?” Mom tried a softer approach.

  Though I was listening from upstairs, and couldn’t be sure how she responded with her body language, I could imagine her shrugging. She’s been doing a lot of that lately.

  “I’m not sad,” she replied. “Nothing happened. You were right; I have to accept that I need to keep my secret, and I am. I’m only doing what you wanted me to do in the first place.”

  There was a pause before Dad said anything. “This isn’t what I meant, Dylan.”

  “Yes it is. I’ve got no friends who are threatening my secret, I’m not doing anything that might reveal it, and I’m not going to college anymore,” she deadpanned. “Even leaving the house can be dangerous, right Dad? So I’m never going out again, and my secret will be safe.”

  “Dylan, that is not–” he started to say.

  But then she cut him off and stood up. “I’m going to my room. I got finals coming up, and I need to study if I want to graduate in three weeks.”

  That was the last she spoke to anyone all day. We all tried knocking on her door, but she was acting the same way with everybody; moody and mopey. Maybe it’s hormones, but I have a feeling there’s a lot more to it than just that. So now because she is depressed, and we’re all worried about her, there’s a general air of gloominess in the house that we’ve never felt before.

  All the negative energy in here is making me restless, and I need to escape it. I grab my phone, send Zoey a text, grab my basketball and get out. I’m not met with any resistance or questioning from my parents about where I’m going or how long I will be out. They’re too busy having hushed arguments in the living room, of which I only catch one thing: “She’s our daughter! This is not the life we wanted for her, Steven!”

  The park’s basketball court is completely deserted when I get there. Not surprising since it’s almost 10pm. While I wait, I start dribbling and throwing the ball from one end of the court straight into the hoop on the other end. During school practice, I have to hold back on my strength, but here, on my own and with no one to hurt or even see, I’m free. About twenty minutes later, I’m starting to work up a sweat, and she’s still not here.

  Where is she?

  Just as I think that, I hear her footsteps approaching. Even after so little time, I can recognize her footsteps among a hundred. I turn just as she enters the court fences. She’s walking slowly, but I can tell she’s tired from the long walk, especially with the way her heart is beating.

  “You called?” she asks with a tentative smile, unsure whether she should be worried or happy. The tension that was caused by John is still there between us, too.

  I smile back to let her know I’m happy to see her, and meet her halfway to make it easier for her. “What took you so long? I was almost losing against myself.”

  She giggles. “Isn’t that the same as winning?”

  I grin just as we make it to five feet from each other. Then I wrap my arms around her waist, pull her closer to me, and bury my face in her neck, inhaling her scent. Immediately, I feel a bit better.

  “Didn’t feel like winning till you showed up, Zo,” I whisper a bit sadly, the tension all but forgotten now that she’s actually in my arms. I missed her.

  Her hands immediately go to the back of my head, one on my neck and the other tracing patterns on my hair. “What’s wrong, Daniel?” she asks with concern.

  I sigh against her shoulder. “I don’t really know,” I say. “Mickey’s been depressed since last weekend, and we can’t figure out what’s wrong with her.”

  “Didn’t you say her time of the month was coming up?” she wonders. “Maybe it’s hormones.”

  I grimace and pull away. “Sometimes, it’s really creepy how casually you talk about this sort of stuff,” I admit. “I’m glad at least Mickey’s not that way.”

  Zoey full on laughs when I say that, and I forget whatever brief sadness I felt moments earlier. “Your sister’s been pretending to be a boy for almost eighteen years,” she points out. “Of course she’s going to be as uncomfortable talking about it as you are.”

  I give her a mock glare. “You know, I’m really starting to regret telling you all my family secrets,” I tease.

  She laughs again. “As if you had a choice,” she humors me. “You were drunk off your ass.”

  “Hey, any party worthy of its name is bound to have a bunch of drunk teenagers,” I playfully protest. “But it’s still your fault, you know.”

  Her eyebrows suddenly fly up in mock indignation. “How is it my fault? You’re the one who got so wasted that you spilled everything! You’re lucky it was me you were talking to and not someone who could have used it against you.”

  “You blackmailed me into going out with you,” I refresh her memory, knowing full well where this is going.

  “And how did that work out?” she challenges.

  My face breaks out into a wide grin. “Pretty great, in the long run. But it’s only been a month.”

  Zoey locks her arms around my neck once again and brings her forehead against mine. “A great month,” she corrects me, her voice suddenly quiet.

  Hearing her breathing and heartbeat accelerating, and knowing we’re both anticipating this, I close the distance between us and mold my lips gently against hers, careful not to apply too much pressure and hurt her. All of my nerve endings suddenly light up, and I’m aware of every inch of her perfect body touching mine, bringing one particular part of me to life. Like always, she pulls away just as things start heating up.

  People who don’t know Zoey may think of her as an immature child, but there’s more to her than meets the eye. She’s deeper and more mature than she appears to be. Or maybe I’m the one who’s immature enough to be her equal. Either way, we’re good together, and although I’d never pressure her into anything, especially with the age difference, she’s strong enough that she doesn’t let me get carried away when we’re close.

  Even before our first date, it stopped being about protecting Mickey’s secret for me. I love her for who she is, and I’ve been dying to tell my family about her. At first, it was her who didn’t want to, but then, when she changed her mind, we couldn’t find the right time. I have to tell mine first, because I’d also have to tell them she knows Mickey’s secret.

  I was about to tell them the day Mickey had her attack. But then my eldest brother Connor sort of beat me to it with his news about asking his girlfriend Andrea to be his mate. Zoey and I aren’t at that stage yet, and I don’t think we will be anytime soon. We’re still young, I mean, I’m almost eighteen, and she will be sixteen in September. But we’re definitely heading in that direction.

  I don’t want to hide her anymore. In fact, more than anything, I want to declare to the world that she’s the one I want. It’s just impossible to find a good time to tell my family because they’ve got so much else going on.

  “Are you worried about John?” Zoey asks when I’m quiet for too long.

  My eyes flash up to meet hers. I can’t believe she’s the braver one and brought him up first.

  “No actually, I was wishing I could tell the world about us,” I say. “But now
that you’ve mentioned your brother, he’s up front and center.”

  She winces. “Sorry.”

  “No, you’re right,” I attempt to smile. “We can’t hide from that much longer.”

  She sighs tiredly, looking decades older for a moment. “We’re going to have to talk to him, aren’t we?”

  I nod in defeat. “We have to know what he knows. He might be dangerous to our secrecy.”

  “I know,” she agrees, again sounding much wiser than she really is. “We’ll do it tomorrow.”

  “Okay.”

  There’s a moment of silence. Knowing that the time to separate has come, I run my hand down her arm and lace my fingers through hers.

  “Come on, let me walk you home,” I suggest.

  CHAPTER 2

  Michael

  Every year, on New Year’s Eve, I have witnessed my brothers making impossible resolutions that they always break the following week.

  This is the last time I get this drunk.

  I’m going to stick to one job this year.

  College is next year, so I have to pull up my grades.

  None of them ever stick to their decisions. Granted, they’re usually drunk and hungover on the first day of the year when they make such resolutions. But it’s not like they do anything differently when they’re sober.

  I don’t know why I thought my resolutions would be different, even without New Year’s Eve to make them extravagant. I mean, I’m related to them, right? That should have been the first clue that I will fail.

  My resolution doesn’t seem like something impossible to fulfill. It you think about it objectively, it’s actually pretty simple. I’m going to move out of my parents’ house when I turn eighteen in four weeks. Until then, I’m going to avoid every single member of the Silver Moon pack.

  It should have been easy. I don’t really know most of them. They only moved here about two months ago. Only three people mean anything to me and will probably notice my absence. My best friend Sadie is one. Her boyfriend Cade, who is also the pack beta –the second in command– is another.