I lay on a hard surface, curled up in fetal position, my arms wrapped around knees, eyes squeezed shut. I was used to shutting out the world. I’d been doing so for most of my life. Keeping humans at a distance, for their safety and my own, hiding my true feelings from my parents, the cravings and the bloodlust. But now I was floundering. Overwhelmed with emotions I had no idea how to contain. I’d endured years of bottled-up madness. The cutting, the desire to give into my inner beast just to see what it could do. All that yearning, soul searching…for what?Only to discover that my father had not only believed I’d become a monster, he might have deliberately set about my creation knowing I’d turn. Why? And not just me, he’d been a participant during Wade’s turning as well. He’d stood in that doorway with Logan and watched. Had been there, doing nothing as Wade was sent along the darkest path imaginable. For all I knew, my father might have even handpicked Wade. How many others like us were there?
