The Bratvas Pack (2)

“I don’t want to stay in the same room with anyone. I need my personal space. We are going to the Bratvas Mansion. I heard there are a lot of rooms there. What if I want to jerk off to porn or something, yeah? Will it be in this small place?” He paced his left index finger around him, pointing at the little white pillars of the mansion.

“Can you at least have some fucking shame and stop spewing nonsense?” Grayson glared at Damon. “Why do you always spit out anything that enters your head?”

“Seriously.” Grimm grimaced in agreement. “You are fucking irritating, for real, Damon.”

I’ve seen my friends go through that stuff, and I don’t want it to happen to me. The tears and sorrow which come with it are depressing. Alphas are nothing but assholes. They love no one but themselves.

I love my space. My freedom. My comfort zone and I don’t want to give all that away.

“You can’t tell the shameless to have some fucking shame, son of a bitch." Grayson cursed.

"Don’t tell me what to do because you are my elder brother.” He glared back at Grayson. “Fall in a ditch.”

“I wish your ass flushes down the slums, fucker.” Grayson fired back.

“Everyone, be quiet.” He interrupted. “Let’s get this straight. All of you, stop talking.” Slade Kandarian sighed and folded his arms across his chest. “How about we all point to the alpha we really don’t want to stay in the same room with?”

“Sure!” Bane gives a thumbs up.

“That sounds like a good idea, yeah.” Damon randomly commented.

“Okay, let’s do this,” Grayson scoffed. “I’m in.”

“Well, then, ready.” Grimm announced to them. “Go.” He let out, and they all pointed at Slade.

“What? Me?” He pointed at himself.

“Yeah.” Damon laughed. “I don’t want to live in the same room with you. You are old-fashioned and I don’t wanna hear some stupid lectures from you.”

“I just want my space.” Grimm shrugged his shoulders. “That’s not so hard, is it? Sorry, bro.”

“You are an old soul, Slade. So, nope.” Bane sticks out his tongue in disagreement.

“You are like a priest. So, nope. I agree with the rest of them.” Grayson joined in.

“Hey, boys.” My stepfather yelled. “What are you sticking around up there for? Don’t you know we have a lot of work to do? Pack your bags and let’s move to the Bratvas Mansion tonight.”

“Yaaaay!” They all jumped up in excitement and laughter as they rushed downstairs. Damon stopped in his tracks and looked at me. “Aren’t you coming, Braila?”

“Oh!” I sighed. “Sorry, I was out of it for a moment.” I responded.

“Come on. Move your butt. We’ve got lots of places to explore.” He ran down the staircases and I followed him and glanced at Gifford, lying on the couch with both of his arms crossed on his face.

I walked up to him.

“I’m awake.” He voiced it without looking at me. “Go on without me.”

They say the person you’d take a bullet for is always the one behind the trigger. If I have to sacrifice ever falling in love for my emotional peace, I would agree to it in a heartbeat. I don’t understand why people would choose something that hurts them and cry over pathetic feelings. Why would someone want to be in pain? I don’t get how people think sometimes. At least that’s what I thought. Until the walls I built around me crumbled when I fell into the dark pit myself. I wish I built my walls stronger than they previously were.

“Father said—”

“I’m lethargic, Braila. Don’t let me fucking lash out at you. Get the fuck outta my face!”

“Alright.” I walked away from him and got outside. I didn’t want to annoy him any further. He has a bad temper when things don’t get done in his way.

Fuck him.

My brothers and my parents were packing up the bags into the truck. Was his suppressant making him sick or something? Why does he suppress his alpha’s pheromones when he is an alpha?

That’s weird.

“Braila.” My mom called out to me with a wave behind my father. “Come help us here with these bags. Quit standing over there.”

“Alright, mom.” I rolled my eyes and strolled to the bags in front of me and carried it to the truck along with my brothers.

I guess we are truly moving to the Bratvas mansion. I’m so glad my father changed his mind to not buy this mansion anymore. Damon was right. The mansion is comfortable and comfy, but it is small.

“Where’s Gifford?” My mom asked as she looked around.

“He said he’s lethargic.” I randomly answered, and didn’t want to go call him.

His rude response made me infuriated.

“Lethargic?” My mother slightly frowned. “Are you sure? He seemed fine to me when I saw him earlier.”

“Damon.” My father called out to my brother behind me. “Tell Gifford to get out here immediately,” he instructed. “No time to spare.”

“You might as well just announce it to the world with a microphone, Braila.” I turned to him with a black jacket on the pink one on me.

Our eyes met for a few seconds before he strolled past me to my father in annoyance.

He talked with him for a few minutes. I couldn’t tell what they were both talking about, but it seemed serious. Gifford had gotten handsome by the years and acted like I was a stranger to him. He let out the color of his dirty blonde hair and let it go black and grow past his shoulders.

His gray eyes were still as intense as usual.

The weather felt chilly to the bones, despite how hot it was. We moved to the Bratvas mansion and bought the place.

“Woahhhh!” all my brothers exclaimed in surprise, except for Gifford, Ren and Slade’s expressions, which seemed different. “This is incredible.” The rest of them yelled out in excitement.

Since our previous home was a little tight when my mother got married to my father, my brothers always complained about how stuffy it was.

My father had to get a new mansion which once belonged to the previous leader of the pack, which was up for sale after my grandfather died. The mansion was sleek and modern, nothing like I’d imagined for a werewolf.

The sharp lines of glass and steel gleamed under the moonlight, reflecting the dense forest that surrounded it. A massive wooden door, carved with intricate patterns that almost looked like wolf tracks, was the only hint of something primal.

Inside, it was just as striking. The open floor plan stretched out before me, with polished concrete floors and high ceilings that seemed to touch the sky. Floor-to-ceiling windows let in the silvery glow of the moon, casting strange shadows across the minimalist furniture. Everything felt too perfect—like the house was for keeping secrets. The fireplace crackled softly, its flames dancing against the stone wall, but the warmth didn’t chase away the faint chill in the air.