Berlin Cahill has always been different. He was the smallest of the bunch from the beginning. When he did not shift at the age of 13, as all werewolves do, he was shunned from the social life of his pack. However, when he found his mate, everything...
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
Rất tiếc! Hình ảnh này không tuân theo hướng dẫn nội dung. Để tiếp tục đăng tải, vui lòng xóa hoặc tải lên một hình ảnh khác.
Danny
(Gif and first image above is Danny! [A.K.A Berlin's Dad] Second image is a young Papa)
TRIGGER WARNING. PLEASE PROCEED WITH CAUTION.
The wind whipped across my cheeks through the open windows of the sedan as we sped down the freeway, the many cares that plagued me seeming to lift right off of my shoulders and fly away into beautiful the countryside. My head laid on door of the car as we drove, my fingers tentatively wiggling out into the refreshing air, as if to ask for a taste. A smile pulled at my lips as they danced playfully, being blown back slightly when we picked up speed.
It was a truly gorgeous day, and our road trip around the country was one I'd looked forward to for ages. I loved times like this. They made me feel so free.
"Danny!"
I jumped in my seat with a squeak as I turned to face my boyfriend of three years, unconsciously sinking in my seat at his harsh tone. My eyes flickered along his handsome face before drifting down to my baby blue Toms, wincing in advance for what I knew was to come. My fingers that once drifted freely out in the warm, country breeze found themselves wrapped tightly around the edges of my seat, clenching tightly as if it was my only lifeline while the muscles in my neck seized up in painful knots.
I'd messed up, and I knew what was coming next. After three years of being with him, I'd gotten used to his incessant yelling and harsh tones towards me. But what could I do? After all, he'd saved me when I was at the lowest time of my life.
My fingers twitched as I remembered how broken I was before I met him, cold and shivering on a park bench after my parents kicked me out for being "the faggot they refused to tolerate." When I expressed my intense desire to mated to the same gender that I'd hidden since I was but a pup, they chased me from the territory with nothing more than the clothes on my back. I came from a conservative pack in deep Texas, one that unapologetically kicked out it's members if they so much as broke a single rule. It was sad, but it was the reality of how I grew up. I thought that my parents would think differently and accept their only child, but I was so, very wrong.
