Page 36 of Rehabilitated

“Russo—”

I slam the front door shut. “Upstairs,” I bark.

But Ever can’t move. She’s rooted to the spot.

A deafening crash splits the quiet morning. I spin around as the front door bursts inward. Thomas stands there, holding a pistol.

My bear roars.

Margaret steps calmly behind him, looking up at Ever. “There you are.”

Ever staggers backward. “You found me.”

“We always find what belongs to us,” Margaret spits out.

“She never belonged to you,” I snap, positioning myself between them and my mate. The gun swings toward me, but I don’t so much as blink.

“You stay out of this,” Thomas hisses.

“I don’t think so,” I growl.

“I’m not going back,” Ever says.

“You ungrateful little brat!” Margaret shrieks, her face twisting with fury.

“I was your daughter,” Ever chokes out.

“No,” Margaret shouts. “You were an investment.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I demand, my hands curling into fists at my sides.

Margaret laughs, her eyes darting between us. “We spent years trying to adopt a gifted child.”

Gifted? my bear snarls.

They know, I reply.

I level them with a hard look. “You knew she was a shifter.”

“Of course we did,” Thomas scoffs, keeping the pistol trained on my chest. “Her birth records were… special.”

“We paid good money to get her,” Margaret adds. “And what did we get?” She folds her arms over her chest and looks at Ever with open contempt. “A defective child.”

Ever flinches.

My stomach churns.

“You never shifted,” Margaret continues. “No bear. No instincts.”

“So we corrected the problem,” Thomas finishes darkly.

My vision darkens. “You beat her.”

“We disciplined her,” Margaret corrects.

“You locked her in a basement.”

“We were trying to force the animal out.”