Chapter 4

Blossom POV.

My uncle is quite possibly the most controlling man I have ever known. I remember looking around my bedroom this morning. It is the drabbest place in his entire home, by far. Sure, it had a bed and a place for what few clothes he allowed us to have. The rest of his home is full of sparkle and glamor, almost gaudy because Uncle Alejandro is nothing if he isn't a showman for all his wealth—and all the wealth he wants people to think that he has, on top of that.

I remember the day Diana and I came to our uncle's home. We had just lost Mom and Dad and were in such a state of utter despair, we didn't know what was happening. Of course, we were just little kids; we didn't know what was going on anyway. Diana seemed relieved that our uncle had summoned us. We had barely seen him up to that point in our lives. I have no idea why he never came around. Father used to refer to him as the black sheep. I am not sure if they grew up together. I know he and Father were half-siblings.

We never even knew our aunt. I guess she left when I was very young, maybe before I was even born. Now that I've lived with our uncle, I don't blame her. I've heard some in the family say she's dead. Others say she ran off with a he-werewolf from another pack, far from here. I guess running away kind of runs in the family if that's the case.

He still hasn't said anything! Look at him, standing there with his sharp jawline and those incredible light blue eyes—absolutely mesmerizing. They say blue eyes are extremely rare among our race, and some of the elders say that being born with blue eyes means you are born to fulfill a prophecy, whatever that's supposed to mean. I just think they're unique—and incredibly hot. I've heard that explanation about a prophecy over and over since I was a child. I honestly think that's why so many immediately thought of Dean as a great leader, and then all the tales of his strength and valor certainly helped. They say he can take on a dozen enemies all at one time without even exerting himself.

I kept thinking about all of this—about what an exalted leader Dean was—while in my room this morning before my uncle came to pound on my door and hasten me out of the house. Maybe I'm not worthy to be the substitute mate for the alpha? Like, why me? I never thought about it that much when I learned my sister was going to be the chosen one. I was too focused on how crushed she would be. She already had a he-werewolf, and he'd imprinted on her, so there was no separating them, not for very long.

I used to help her sneak out our bedroom window to see him. Our uncle never suspected a thing. That's the way he is—always believing he was in control of everyone and everything around him. I was happy to help her sneak out. I could see she was very much in love. Our parents had married from outside what would have been considered normal for their packs, and they turned out just fine until the day they were killed. But that had nothing to do with them marrying outside of their boundaries.

I suppose I wanted my sister to find the same happiness our parents had found with each other. I was still quite young when they were killed, but I have very vivid memories at times about my early childhood and all the time I spent with them, especially my father. He always saw something special in me, something I still don't see.

Living with our uncle had been so dreary, I guess I started to live through my sister's romantic adventures. But it was Diana who talked to me about romance, he-werewolves, and worldly things. Someone had to tell me since our mother was gone. How she learned such things, I have no idea, and I didn't ask, but Diana would never steer me wrong. She was always considered the most level-headed between us. I used to hear family members say that, going back to when we were just young children. I am not sure what I ever did that was not level-headed as a small child, but it didn't bother me that much. I miss Diana.

It was also Diana who told me about our uncle's troubled romance when he was young. She said that's what made him the way he is. Diana tended to cut him a lot more slack than I did when it came to his atrocious and controlling behavior. He wasn't jilted by his lover exactly, but something happened, and the father of the she-werewolf he was madly in love with, completely rejected him, and he was never to even have any sort of contact with her ever again. It was his very first time in love.

It's hard to imagine my uncle in love, let alone to think that a tainted romance could impact him for the rest of his life. But no wonder my aunt left him. I'm sure she knew he never loved her. He was probably just as cold to her as he was to us. I just didn't trust that his cold, uncaring demeanor might explode into out-of-control rage. He always seemed like a boiling tea kettle to me, and I did not want to be around when he blew his top.

Not that I know anything of love. I've never even been in love. That's not entirely my fault, though. My uncle pretty much kept both of us locked away. It's a wonder Diana even met her lover. Diana may be level-headed, but she has a rebel streak in her and a strong sense of adventure. Diana used to joke that windows were made to be doors at my uncle's house. Sometimes she invited me along with her, just so I could escape the clutches and watchful eye of our uncle, but I was always too afraid of what could happen to us if our uncle found out.

Several times when Diana had sneaked out to see her lover, our uncle had pounded on our bedroom door, demanding to come in. I always covered for her, saying she was asleep in bed and not to be disturbed or was in the shower or what have you. He always seemed to buy it. But that's the thing—if we were ever both out at once, who would be there to cover for us when my uncle came pounding at our door?