“Brandon is my world, and you risked your life to keep him safe,” she said softly. “If I live to be a thousand years old, I’ll never be able to pay you back for that. I’m not sure how to try beyond saying thank you.”
The heartfelt words tugged at Diego in a way he’d never felt before. It might be his job, but Brandon was her son. Saving Brandon’s life wasn’t just another day at the office. It had been a very big deal.
“You’re welcome,” he said.
His voice sounded huskier than normal, and he cleared his throat as he reached out to shake Brandon’s hand. The kid had a firm grip.
“You said we have a lot to talk about?” Brandon said, sitting back. “Does that mean you can explain what happened to me in that diner? Because it’s been happening to me for months.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Diego saw Bree’s eyes widen in surprise, then fill with pain. As though she hadn’t known her son had been dealing with something like this for so long. Diego had never thought about what it must be like for a mother or father of someone going through the change. Then again, how often did a teenager have to deal with becoming a werewolf?
“How old are you, Brandon?”
Brandon seemed caught off guard by the question, but after a moment, he sat up straighter, squared his shoulders, and put on his I’m-older-than-I-look face.
“I’m fifteen,” he said, pinning Diego with an expression that dared him to say anything. “I’ll be sixteen in four months.”
Diego resisted the urge to chuckle, even if his first instinct was to reach over and ruffle the kid’s already tousled hair. He couldn’t imagine being fifteen years old and dealing with claws and fangs. He’d been an adult when it happened to him, and even with Hale helping him through it, the whole werewolf thing still seriously messed with his head.
“Do you remember exactly when you realized there was something strange going on with you?” Diego asked, wondering if Brandon’s change would follow the typical steps considering he was so young.
Brandon looked introspective for a moment. “I got shot about two months ago. It was right after that.”
Diego wanted to ask how Brandon had gotten shot, but that was something they could talk about later.
“What kind of things started happening?” he prompted.
Brandon frowned. “I can smell things way better than I ever used to. And I keep having these weird dreams about running through the woods. They’re so real it’s like I’m really there, then when I wake up, there’s blood in my mouth and my fingertips are bleeding.”
The kid was quiet for a long time, and this time, Diego didn’t rush him. He remembered dealing with those exact things and how much they’d scared him.
“I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, you know?” Brandon continued, his heart beating a little faster now. “But when I have the dreams now, I wake up and my bedsheets are all ripped up. It’s really freaking me out.”
Diego opened his mouth to tell him it was okay and that all of this was normal—at least in the beginning—but before he could say anything, the kid spoke again.
“The past week has been the worst,” he said, his voice on the edge of panic. “My muscles twitch and spasm all the time, my bones hurt like hell, and my teeth come right out of my gums and get longer, then go back in again. Like in the diner earlier.”
Brandon was breathing so fast he was on the verge of hyperventilating, and yellow swirled in his eyes. Diego reached out for him, knowing the teen was close to losing it right there in the back of the ambulance.
Bree got to her son first.
She enveloped his clasped hands in hers, squeezing them tight. That simple touch, along with a mother’s loving proximity, seemed to be all Brandon needed. He calmed within seconds.
“Honey, why didn’t you tell me about any of this?” she whispered, a mix of concern and disappointment on her face. “I’ve been worried about you for weeks, but every time I tried to get you to talk to me about it, you shut me out.”
“I’m sorry, Mom.” Brandon’s voice was soft, his eyes full of chagrin and embarrassment as he looked at her. “I wanted to tell you so many times, but I didn’t think you’d believe me. I didn’t believe it myself, and it was happening right in front of me. I thought I was going crazy or something.”
Bree blinked quickly, like she was fighting tears, then turned to look at Diego. “Can you tell me what’s happening to my son?” she asked, her voice close to breaking. “I was sure this was some kind of drug addiction, but after hearing the things he’s describing, it doesn’t sound like any kind of drug I’ve ever heard of.”
Brandon flushed, making Diego think Bree had touched on a separate issue they’d have to deal with. Later. After they got through the werewolf thing. That was going to be hard enough for these two to handle.
“Yeah, I know what’s happening.” Diego looked from mother to son and back again. “I know because I went through the same thing eight years ago. It was scary for me, too, but I promise it has nothing to do with drugs or insanity.”
Brandon seemed to relax a little at that. His mother, on the other hand, seemed to tense up even more.
“While I know exactly what you’re going through, it isn’t going to make what I have to tell you any easier to understand. Mainly because it’s complicated and hard to believe,” Diego continued. “Your first instinct will be to tell me I’m crazy, then run out of here screaming and never look back, but I need you to trust me.”
Bree’s beautiful, dark eyes filled with alarm. “You’re starting to really freak me out. Just tell me what’s wrong with my son.”
“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Diego said gently. “Your son is going through a change that started when he was shot. Everything he’s experiencing—the claws and fangs, the ways his senses have gone haywire, the strange dreams, the muscle spasms—are simply his body adapting to its new abilities. It’s his inner wolf coming out.”
Bree stared at him in confusion. “I don’t understand what you’re saying. What new abilities? And what the hell do you mean by ‘inner wolf’?”
Diego took a deep breath. Damn, he wished someone else from the Pack was here to explain this. Because he was already screwing it up.
“I know this is going to sound crazy, but your son is a werewolf.”
Bree didn’t say a word. Expression suddenly hard, she stood, yanking Brandon to his feet and starting for the door.
Diego caught her arm. “Bree, please. Remember when I said I needed you to trust me? Let me finish and all of this will make sense.”