Bella Colt [Colt - Birthright: Book 1: Know Thyself

Tonight is much colder and darker than usual. The temperatures have dropped dramatically, leaving a crisp chill in the air. As I look up from the ground, an icy blast of wind gusts in my face and almost blows the hood off of my head. Instantly, I tremble from the cold and snuggle my perfect little package against my chest for warmth. I blow out a visible breath that somehow gives me an ominous feeling. So much is riding on this visit. I really should have called first, or at the very least, attempted to do so. Realistically, I know better than to try anything like that. No form of communication is truly safe. Information about me can be bought, and people with money often run rampant with control and power. I can only hope my friend will be up and willing to help me. I have no one else to turn to. Considering the impending weather, walking two miles from my motel room to her house is risky, but its the safest way. Assuming I wasn't followed, this is the best chance we have.

Passing a small garden to the side of the porch, I keep my head down and my face covered with the hood of my sweater as I approach the quaint little house. Even in the dark, you can tell it is well tended. I notice a blanket on some of the bushes to help them fight off the chill throughout the night. Avoiding the porch light that will illuminate my face, I slowly walk up the stairs. I glance around quickly as I knock on the door with a sudden staggering sense of urgency.

The only reason I'm still alive today is thanks to that sixth sense, my gut, telling me when to hide, fight, or flee. Right now, I feel rushed like I need to move and move fast. I pound on the door again, and I am rewarded when I hear footsteps a few moments later. I release a breath that I didnt even realize I was holding. A slender blonde woman answers the door, eyes half-lidded from sleep.

Whos there? She asks, cracking the door open a few inches.

Me, old friend, I squeak out, as I move to stand in the light and lower my hood revealing my face.

She peeks out of the cracked door to get a better look and gasps.

Oh my!! She says, before embracing me in an extraordinarily strong hug.

I am careful to not crush the tightly wrapped bundle in my arms, in which she has yet to realize Im holding.

Cant breathe, I choke out.

She lets go and takes a step back, looking like she genuinely cant believe it is me.

Can I come in? I ask, glancing around again; making sure I wasnt followed.

Of course, of course, come in. I'm so sorry Ijust...in shockis all. She stammers through a big smile.

I follow her as she turns back into her house through an arched entryway to her living room. The room boasts a comfortable looking blue recliner and a matching love seat. Arriving at the couch, I sit down at the opposite end facing her.

Where have you been? What happened? Your parents told everyone you were dead! She blurts out in one long breath.

I sigh heavily as I gently shift the bundle in my arms while struggling to get comfortable on the couch. During my struggle is when she notices the sleeping baby completely wrapped in cozy blankets in a lame attempt to shield her from the world. Her face pales, and for a moment, she looks catatonic. If the situation werent so dire, I would laugh at my childhood best friend.

Natalie, take a breath! I'll explain as much as I can, without putting you in any unnecessary danger. I shout to interrupt her catatonic state.

Natalies curiosity is burning on her face as she takes a moment to compose her features before nodding her head. Seeing that she is ready for whatever I can throw at her, I take a deep breath as I unbundle the blanket. Carefully, I shift to show her my beautiful blue-eyed baby with dark brown hair, the same shade as mine.

This is my daughter, Amara. She's two weeks old. I say, smiling. It is impossible not to smile while looking at her.

We are in danger, and her father is gone. He is no longer able to protect us. I say, waiting a few moments to see how she will react.

That doesnt answer any of my questions, Natalie says.

One of the many things I love about her is her typical cut-straight-to-the-chase manner.

Youre right! Honestly, I doubt I can even answer most of your questions. Not because I dont want to but because there isnt time for a full explanation. What I can tell you, I will. I say.

Before she can interrupt, I continue, My parents told you I was dead because they disowned me with extreme prejudice. Obviously, they lied about me being dead, but saying I died was so much easier and less shameful than telling everyone the truth.

I take another deep breath, bracing myself to answer the question that I know is coming.

Why? Natalie asks, wasting no time in asking the simple yet damning question.

Because of who fate chose as my mate. Amaras father was a werewolf and a prince no less! I say as I relinquish a bitter laugh at the irony.

You have got be shitting me, Natalie thunders, rejecting her natural aversion towards foul language.

I stare at her, entirely shocked for a second.

I wish that I were. Not because of the laws or any of the punishments. Honestly, I never cared about those damn laws; neither of us did. That was why it was so easy when we were together to forget that there were very few who think like us and so many who would be against it. Our relationship was quickly discovered, and we were both banished from our homes and families. All because we chose love over our species and blood laws. It was worth it. Every second with him was worth it. I would do it all again in a heartbeat. I say defensively.