Okay, so I am sorry that this took so long, but I think the length totally made up for it, right? This chapter is huge! Major things are going to happen, so please, kick back and enjoy! =]

Chapter 8- Keeping Secrets

~Wyatt's POV~

Snow was falling from the sky in gentle twirls, layering the ground in a soft white blanket. It rarely ever snowed this early in the year, but a cold front had swooped in from Canada, making it so cold, that the warmest temperature was twenty degrees in the last forty-eight hours.

I buttoned up my plaid black and red flannel coat, the black buttons the shape of canoes, the very first thing I had bought with my own money from my job down at the mechanic's shop when I had turned fifteen. It was old and ratty, a few holes in it from welding all day long at the shop, but it was damn warm in the winter. I ran a hand through my unruly hair that I couldn't seem to keep from sticking up. I looked at myself in the mirror that was hanging from the closet door. Maybe I needed a cut.

I sighed, knowing this was as classy as Wyatt Parker could ever get and called, "Hailey! Let's go, or your gonna be late!"

Hailey bounded into our room in the processes of slipping her hair into a ponytail at the base of her skull. "Okay, I'm good to go," she announced, lifting up her suitcase that had been leaning up against the rackety old bedroom door.

Hailey had been lucky enough to be invited to go to Florida with a friend for Christmas. And so was I, for that matter. If she had had nowhere to go, I would've taken her with me to Mac's house.

I dropped Hailey off at her friend's house and double-checked the directions to Mac's house before heading over there. She lived in a sechluded area, their driveway at least a mile long.

I was starting to worry that maybe I had made a wrong turn somewhere when the trees lining the private driveway and road opened up to a large clearing. The drive split into a curved road that wrapped around a bed of flowers surrounding a large Willow tree. My eyes widened as I took in the three stories and the large Grecian pillars at the front door. There were tons of windows; open space. A six-car garage was settled off to the side and I parked next to a gleaming and sleek Maybach.

I slowly exited my old truck, my eyes never leaving the couple hundred thousand dollar car. I had had no clue my MacKayla was wealthy enough to afford such an expensive car. And leave it outside in the weather no less!

"Eyeing my car?" a gruff, male voice asked.

Shocked, I spun around and saw a very tall, rust-skinned man I had never seen before leaning up against my old, beat up, rusty, and red and white truck bed, the paint chipping off.

The man's eyes were dark. The kind of dark where you can't tell the irises from the pupils. He was taller then me by a good five inches, and his sinew was thicker then mine, more bulky.

"Sorry," the man said, a smile splitting his face, giving away the fact that his apology wasn't genuine. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"No, no, you didn't scare me," I rebutted. "I was just in awe over your car. Top of the line. The 62 S, right?"

The man who was probably my age eyed me like a suspect on trial, but when I mentioned the model, he nodded and his face softened into a cocky grin.

"Devin!" a voice shrilled from the house.

I glanced up to see MacKayla flinging herself off the porch and down onto the gravel where the curved, paved road veered off towards the six garages.

As she made her way towards me, she popped Devin in the back of the head. "Leave Wyatt alone," she ordered sternly before wrapping her arms around my waist and laying a sweet and gentle kiss to my ever-waiting lips.

I heard Devin grunt in annoyance, rubbing the spot on his skull where she had hit him. "Jeez, Mackie, it's not like I was telling him the big se –" he stopped midsentence and gasped as if in pain, his eyes as wide as saucers as he cupped his groin with his hands. He fell sideways onto the snow with a load, agonizing groan.

MacKayla was silently laughing in my arms and I leaned down to whisper in her hear. "What did you do?"

She let a small, quiet giggle escape before she answered my question. "I kicked him in a highly sensitive area. He'll be fine in a minute or two." Her warm breath hit my ear and I couldn't resist pressing my mouth down her jaw line until I hit her lips, where I captured them with my own in a searing hot kiss.

She smiled against my lips and pulled me towards the house with her. I intertwined our fingers and Devin limped behind us. I grimaced, having been injured in that certain testicular region before.

"If you weren't a girl who has a helluva good right hook and strong legs, as well as a black belt in jujitsu and karate, I would deck you right now," Devin proclaimed, a groan lingering in his voice.

MacKayla laughed at him. "You're only saying that because you just lost your ability to have children."

Devin moaned. "I'll be lucky if I can ever use it again, let alone make babies!"

My lips twitched in amusement at their family banter. Mine sure as hell wasn't like this.

Waiting at the open door was a man who looked quite similar to Devin, only less muscular, more lean. His eyes were a lighter shade of brown, but still dark. He was an inch or two shorter then Devin, probably older, too. And he was laughing so hard that tears were leaking out of the corners of his eyes.

"Devin, that was priceless!" he chortled. "You should've seen your face!" He grabbed his sides, roaring in a fit of laughter.

"Shut your mouth, Hayden, before I do it for you," Devin threatened.

"Empty threats, little brother, empty threats," the man said to be Hayden taunted.

"I'll show you empty threats," Devin growled, launching himself at his older brother, only to be held back by Ravyn who I hadn't noticed approaching us.

"Not in the house," Ravyn reminded him. "Remember the last time?"

MacKayla sighed and tightened her fingers slightly on mine. "I'm sorry," she said, "I've forgotten to introduce you. The laughing one is my cousin Hayden, and the glaring one is his little brother, Devin."

"Younger," Devin corrected. "Little makes me sound like I'm six or something."

MacKayla just rolled her eyes at him.

I shook both their hands and grinned at how hard they gripped mine, a test of testosterone, to see if I was a real man or not. I squeezed back. "Wyatt," I greeted, flashing them a smile.

They eyed me speculatively but I didn't have a real chance to mention anything because I was thrown back into the door, my head banging on the wood with enough force that stars danced beneath my lids, and I grunted in pain.

"Stormy!" Mac yelled and I finally noticed the small girl who had wrapped herself around my waist, shaking like crazy with the sobs that wrenched through her entire body.

Stormy was crying so hard it made me forget about the ache in my body from being slammed into the door. I wrapped my arms hesitantly around her, not wanting to frighten her, but if I did, she scared me first.

"Thank you," she mumbled, "I'm so happy."

Happy? She was crying like this because she was happy? I will never understand women. Confused as hell, I stroked her long black hair and murmured words of comfort, trying to calm her down like I would when Hailey would cry. I wasn't real sure on what to do, but it seemed to work. Her sobs quieted down until she was limp against me.

Mac pulled her away from me and into her arms. She regarded me with a gentle and loving gaze, mouthing the words "Thank you."

I shrugged indifferently before noticing what seemed like a million people, at the time, staring at me. Suddenly nervous and embarrassed, I walked closer to MacKayla. I was feeling overwhelmed and my hand automatically searched for Mac's warm and comforting palm. She looked up at me and smiled encouragingly.

However, as soon as the odd feeling arrived, it was gone and replaced by a calm and collectiveness that didn't quite suit me. I didn't let go of Mac's hand, thoroughly puzzled. Yet, the calm and serene emotions seemed to even take away my bewilderment.

"I'm Esme," a woman exclaimed. Her caramel colored hair was down in waves around her extremely pale shoulders, the butterscotch of her eyes soft and inviting. I guessed that she was Mac's mother but how a doctor and a housewife could care for eleven teenagers was beyond me. She nudged a blond man beside her. "And this is my husband, Carlisle."

"You have a beautiful home, Mr. and Mrs. Cullen," I said cliché-ly, not really knowing what I should say, finally taking in the interior of the large colonial house.

The inside was painted soft hues, the carpet a bright white. The front door opened up to the foyer where there was a grand staircase directly adjacent to the door. A curved archway to the left of the door exposed the living room where a large Plasma screen was propped up on the wall and two large leather sectionals surrounded it. A white grand piano was off in the distance, pushed up against a wall of windows overlooking the side of the property that had a small creek cutting into the land.

To the right was a study from the looks of books cluttering floor to ceiling shelves, though the door was half closed, giving me only a partial view of the inside. Sandwiched between the study and what looked like a bathroom was an identical archway to the one that opened up to the living room, giving me a nice sight of the blue/green kitchen with white granite counter tops.

To the right of the huge staircase, the foyer turned into a hallway and continued to the back of the house. Windows covered the wall where the foyer ended and I saw a forest lining the back of the house.

Esme smiled warmly at me. "Thank you, but please, call us Esme and Carlisle."

I beamed at them and repeated their names, causing her smile to grow wider, and her eyes flickered between Mac and me.

I already knew everyone else except another dark skinned man who oddly resembled Leah. I learned his name was Seth and went to Seattle University as a sophomore. We talked about it a bit, but it seemed to make him uncomfortable so I switched to football and how the Sea Hawks were doing, though I preferred the Green Bay Packers. He smiled largely at me and jumped right into the conversation, bringing me to the conclusion that he was a fun and good-natured guy, someone who you could easily hit it off with. He was easy-going and I liked him immediately.

Emmett had overheard our exchange about football and challenged me to a 'family' game outside until Edward reminded him that it was snowing and around seventeen degrees, thus, making us freeze to death and he frowned, defeated. But an odd glint appeared in Emmett's mischievous golden eyes before he grinned and re-challenged me to one when the weather warmed up.

I couldn't help but love MacKayla's family. They fought, they bickered, and the love between them was palpable. I was jealous and I hated feeling that way. It was bad enough that I wasn't nearly good enough for her. Children from broken and abusive homes often turn into their parents. Someone who had an abusive parent has a greater chance of turning abusive than someone who came from a loving family. And that has always scared me. Made me afraid of myself and what I was capable of even though I didn't have much of a temper.

MacKayla was the kind of girl I could see myself marrying. The kind of girl who I could picture pregnant with my children, seeing our hair turn grey with old age, rocking our grandbabies on our front porch as we watched the sun fall over the horizon. I was so deeply in love with her, hurting her when I left would be inevitable though my selfish needs knew I could never leave her.

She healed parts of me I hadn't known were broken. She was the light in my world of darkness that glowed with goodness and sweet innocence. She healed the deep wounds inflicted upon me by my mother even though she didn't know it yet. She barged though the heavily armed walls that I had erected around my heart, and staked her claim, a little flag flying on the red organ, waving to let me know she had won the battle for my heart.

"Would you like a tour?"

Mac's question jerked me from my thoughts and I realized that everyone had left us alone. She squeezed my fingers and I smiled down at her, burying my nose in her hair. I inhaled her unique scent of the outdoors, lavender, and red roses in springtime before I answered. "I would love that." I kissed her cheek, letting her lead me through the foyer and up the grand staircase.

"There isn't much to show but closed doors and pictures," she informed me.

I gasped at a large wooden cross hanging over the landing.

Mac laughed nervously when she saw what my gaze was resting on and scratched the back of her neck. "Yes, we're real big on, um, church going and what not."

"I'll say," I breathed. "That looks really old."

She shrugged her shoulders. "It's been passed down from generation to generation according to my… father."

I gave her a funny look. She always stuttered or gave a long pause when she talked of her siblings or her parents, as if it felt weird for her to say. Just as I was about to ask her about it, music began to flow flourishingly through the white corridor. Beautiful flowing notes drifting through the entire house, filling my ears with a soft and gentle lullaby.

"Wow," was all I could manage, the song so beautiful that it calmed me considerably, almost making me tired.

"Yeah, my, ah, brother Edward likes to play the piano," she muttered, a look of utter frustration marring her perfect features.

"He's good," I commented, admiring the music as we continued along, my thumb rubbing the soft skin of her hand methodically.

The second story consisted of seven bedrooms and four bathrooms. I hope I was able to keep my composer considering the fact that the first story was probably bigger, square feet wise, then my entire house.

Mac led me up a second set of stairs at the end of the hallway. The third story had six bedrooms and each bedroom had an adjacent bathroom.

"And this one is mine," Mac finally said, opening the door.

Her room wasn't overly decorated with over the top colors of pink, not that I had expected that or anything. Her walls were an off white color, her four-poster bed was dark mahogany, the canopy and duvet a royal blue pushed up against the wall of windows. A desk with an Apple computer matched the mahogany bed and end tables, along with a vanity that looked as if it was never used, and a small dresser near the bathroom. Though it seemed that Mac's family liked high-end, flashy couture and pricey furniture and clothes, my MacKayla was simple, as if it didn't take a lot for her to be happy with what she had.

"I like your room," I said, closing the door shut behind me.

"Thanks," she replied shyly, sitting on the edge of the bed.

I sat down beside her and held her hand. I never truly noticed, but we touched a lot. We almost always held hands while we walked, and if we didn't, my arm would be around her waist. I kissed her so many times a day I would need more then two hand and two feet just to count. I loved being around her, feeling the softness of her skin on mine. Even the brush of her arm against mine was like a kiss and each time it happened made me sigh with pleasure.

She contently rested her head on my shoulder and her hand fell onto my thigh. My blood started pumping swiftly in my veins as her hand burned a hole into my pants, my breathing coming out in quick secession. With my forefinger under her chin, I lifted her face up so I could gaze and drown in her forest green eyes.

"I love your family," I said softly. "Their really nice."

She grinned and fiddled with the fingers of my hand, which was suddenly resting on my thigh with hers. "They like you too," she answered simply.

I clucked my tongue. "You're just saying that," I said in my best girly voice, bending my wrist at my chest.

She shook her head slightly and laughed a little. "No, it's true. Though, you haven't met my grandfather or his wife yet."

"I'm sure I'll like them too."

"He used to be the Chief of Police in Forks before he retired," she warned me, a note of amusement in her voice.

"Does he still own a gun?"

She nodded.

"Looks like I'm dead meat then," I whispered into her ear.

"Looks like," she agreed.

I chuckled also and she grinned even more. I rubbed my nose against hers right before my hands started to attack her sides.

She erupted into a fit of laughter as she fell back against the bed, crawling up it, trying to get away but I crawled up it with her. "St-stop!" she pleaded.

"What?" I asked innocently, continuing my assault.

"Tick-tickling me! I hat-hate being tick-tickled!" she gasped out over her giggles.

"Oh, you do, huh."

She nodded and I began tickling up her ribcage until she started knocking a pillow against me. I lifted my hands up to defend myself but because they had been supporting my weight, it had caused me to crash on top of her, her right leg between mine and my arms on either side of her head. She continued laughing and I looked up at her joyous face.

I reached up and ran my fingers through her curly hair that was hanging around her shoulders, the hair I loved so much, so I could cradle her head with my hand. Her laughter ceased along side mine, our gazes locked in a heated look. Blood drained from my brain and made me dizzy. I leaned down until my lips met hers, my tongue pushing into her hot, strawberry flavored mouth.

She moaned and wrapped her arms around my shoulders, pulling more of my weight onto her. She wormed her leg from being sandwiched between both of mine and to the side, so I settled between her thighs. My heart racing, I pulled back and kissed her neck, sucking softly at the hollow of her throat, enjoying the groans from her, the feel of her nails as they scraped my hair, her hands holding my head to her skin as she arched into my mouth.

I was drunk on sensation. The way her hands were hot, holding my head gently, the feel of her bare feet pushing my pant legs up over my calves. She ran her heels up and down my legs, eliciting a groan from deep inside my throat.

With her hands in my hair, she yanked my lips back up to hers. Her hands let go of my head, and traveled down my shoulders, down my backside, to lift the hem of my shirt up a little, revealing the skin above my ass. Mac's hands rested at my lower back, and she pulled me into her, her legs wrapping themselves tightly around my waist, trying to get me as close to her as possible. And I had absolutely no problem with that.

My hands were running up and down her sides, reveling in the feel of her skin as they inched the hem of her sweatshirt higher, higher until –

The door to Mac's room flew open and she and I both gasped, pushing each other away. Mac fixed her sweatshirt as she sat up on the bed, pulling it back down over her exposed stomach. I ran my hand through my hair, trying to fix it as Jacob Black's brown gaze promised my death. Really, what was with this guy?

"MacKayla, you don't shut this door anymore," he ordered. When she didn't answer, he asked, "Do you understand me? You are not allowed to the close the door and be alone with him."

I thought that he was her brother, not her father.

"Ha!" MacKayla laughed. "Um, that really wouldn't do much, Da-Jacob. And we weren't doing anything anyway."

I wasn't all that surprised when his eyes narrowed at me and then her. "The both of you should go downstairs," he said lowly, his voice dark with promises of my demise.

She sighed and pulled me up, not letting go of my hand as we headed down stairs.

~Jacob Black's POV~

I anxiously drummed my fingers on the granite counter in the kitchen. I had caught my daughter and her imprint having sex on her bed! With the door closed! And they were making noises! Noises! My little girl! My baby girl.

I had changed her diaper and bathed her. Fed and burped her. Taught her to use her powers, to try to ignore her brothers when they would annoy and upset her through their shared thoughts. I wiped her bottom when she was being potty trained. Watched as she entered this world.

I watched her phase for the first time. I watched as she learned to walk, learned to read. I held her when she would cry, read to her when she was too tired to do it herself. Laughed when she would do something unintentionally funny, like all parents do with their children. I was there to see her smile for the first time, privy to her first laugh. I had a tea party with her when she was two, played house with her fifty times when she was five. Taught her how to work on cars, how to ride an ATV, a dirt bike, a motorcycle.

I watched her turn into a young lady, taking her to karate and jujitsu lessons. I taught her how to be a wolf, how to control her anger, her phasing. Watched her beat Emmett three times in a row at football, though only one wasn't an intentional lose. She is and was a child. I was there for her when that vampire attacked her for the first time. I was there while she had to get stitched up and placed in a full body cast.

And now, I had to watch her be devoured every time I leave those two alone! I drummed my fingers impossibly fast on the counter.

A hand gripped mine so hard, it turned my knuckles white. "Jake, seriously, you're pissing me off," Leah growled. "If your gonna be a girl about it, go do it somewhere else."

"Well, go away then, if I'm 'pissing' you off, I was here first," I growled back.

"Honey, she's right. You're annoying all of us," Nessie murmured, affectionately rubbing the back of my tense neck muscles, working out the kinks.

"You heard them, Renesmee! You know what he was thinking, because they were acting on impulsion! He's a man, and I happen to know how think, contrary to what Emmett thinks about my small package."

She rolled her eyes and sat on a bar stool beside me, her hand never leaving my neck. "Jakey, we knew this would happen. And you are completely overreacting."

"I am not!" I yelled indignantly.

She sighed heavily. "Jake, you are torturing her."

"Good! They will not act impulsively –"

"Like we did?" She raised a brow. "Jacob, I seem to remember acting impulsively with you."

"Yeah! And look where that got us!" Shit.

Her eyes clouded and an angry pink took to her pale cheeks. "You've never once said it was a mistake. And I have a photographic memory, Jacob Black," she said in a low, pissed off tone of voice. Which automatically meant that I was sleeping outside tonight.

"Angel –"

"No, don't angel me!" she interrupted, flinching away from my touch. "And don't expect me to even look at you. Don't bother coming to bed tonight, for that matter."

Nessie got off the stool and angrily stomped off towards the study and slammed the door.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

"I hope you like sleeping in the snow!" I heard her yell from inside the Carlisle's study.

Word of advice; never tell your wife that your children were mistakes. Even if you didn't mean for it to come out that way.

~Leah's POV~

I laughed at Jacob's miserable face. He wasn't my alpha anymore. "Don't like lover boy, huh?"

Jake grunted and rested his head on his hand, leaning onto the kitchen counter. "It's not that, I just don't like him… touching, or looking at, and/or sucking face with my daughter. That's all. And now, because of him, I get to sleep outside. Knowing Ness, she'll never let me even try to talk to her until tomorrow. Mackie taught her how to be angry. Unfortunately."

Aiden took that moment to stride in. Ignoring everything, including his father who was basically crying like a baby over a cold bed tonight, he wrapped his arms around my waist and nuzzled my neck, nipping playfully. "What do you say to a quickie in the bathroom?" he asked huskily, his tone implying all kinds of sexiness.

I grinned and Jake groaned. "You are a bad influence on Mac!"

Aiden turned to his father, keeping his arms around me. "I'm a man, Dad. What did you expect me to say?"

"I don't know, something eloquent," he grumbled burying his face in his hands.

Aiden barked out a laugh. "Dad, I'm not a pussy." He eyed me seductively as he said the word and it brought a blush to my cheeks. The way the man could do that to me should be made illegal.

Before him, the only time I ever blushed was back when I was with Sam. Back when I wasn't broken. Back when I was happy. Back to a time when I had had everything I wanted, and life was perfect. There were no mythical creatures, no one going to jump out of the closet and scream, "Life's over!" Back to a time when Emily and I were so close, we could spend three hours a day on the phone, talking about every little thing that happened that day, that week.

And then, after he disappeared, everything changed. He was distant, reserved. We didn't connect like we used to, we didn't communicate. We fought all the time, rarely were we intimate with each other, but we at least tried. Until, one day, I had needed to vent my frustrations to Emily, my best friend, my sister. They had met before, but never had it been like an awkward moment, never had he stared at her like she was the sun and he was Earth, orbiting around her. And then, the rest is history.

When I joined Jake's pack twenty-five years ago, I had been happy to leave Sam's mind, happy to never have to listen to his thoughts about Emily, about me. I had still been bitter though. The way my life had played out, like a bad soap opera, one where people actually never died. I had never truly been okay with Nessie, but she was making Jake happy, she was helping him deal with his Bella issues, and while she was pregnant, I'll never tell her, but I had been drawn to her. Like I had to always be by her side. I didn't tell anyone, and I never thought about it, because I was afraid I had like, turned lesbian or something, but when Aiden was born, and I first laid my eyes on him, I was no longer in need to be with Nessie, but with him.

When he opened his green eyes for me, when he had looked at me for the first time, I lost hold of everything. Sam didn't matter to me anymore, Emily didn't matter to me anymore, my past didn't matter, because I was here for him. I was here to be his, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

Aiden had a sweet side to him, I had learned, watching him grow up. He was protective, and loveable. He cared for all his loved ones so easily, his eyes compassionate and loving whenever he looked at his sister, his mother, and me. He would literally cut off his leg if that meant someone else could live. He was entirely selfless towards others, though, like right then, he had a few selfish needs.

He was insatiable. No matter how long we spent together, he was always wanting more. There were nights where I got no sleep, because he couldn't keep his hands off me. And I didn't really have a problem with it. It was everyone else that did because I'm a total harpy when I don't get enough sleep. But every night when he can hold me in his arms was a night worth it, even if I only got a half an hour of sleep and I would do it all over again the next night. I was insatiable too, when it came to him.

And his quickie idea was sounding pretty damn good to me at the moment.

"See!" Jake yelled. "You rubbed off on MacKayla and now she's gonna be having sex with Wyatt! How long did you to hold off, huh?"

Aiden sighed. "Does it even really matter? Guys aren't the same as girls. We have different urges, and our urges are way more obvious then girls', so it's not easy to hide. What was is supposed to do? Leah was a better option then myself. And I had already realized I was in love with her by then."

I laughed at his words. Sometimes, he needed to learn how to shut his mouth.

"Oh God!" Jake whined. "Does that mean you were fifteen?"

Aiden grinned ear to ear and gave me a seductive look. "Perhaps."

"Leah! You are old enough to be his mother!"

I looked up to see Emmett standing in the doorway, laughing his ass off. "So? He can be very persuasive," I muttered, turning all kinds of red. I only blushed around Aiden, even though there were no secrets between us.

I loved him, but there were things his father didn't need to know about us.

"God, I am so lucky that Ravyn didn't imprint on someone at birth, also. At least he's still… innocent."

I shared a look with Aiden and Emmett for a second before we all burst into laughter.

"You're kidding me," Jake growled. "When?"

"Well," Aiden said, dragging out the L's and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Yes? Tell me already, damnitt!"

"I was sixteen, Dad," Ravyn said absentmindedly, strolling in to grab a coke from the fridge and he walked back out and into the living room.

"Dad?"

I looked up at the archway to see a very confused Wyatt holding hands with a very pissed off Mac. Ravyn froze halfway into the living room, and he turned back around as Wyatt looked bewildered and ticked off. Guess he doesn't like being out of the loop.

~Mac's POV~

My dad is really annoying. I'm eighteen, not a flipping invalid. We really weren't going to do anything… at least, I don't think we were going to. But with him, I would lose track of time, only being consumed with my desire for his lips to be on mine. The way he kissed me, took away my sensibility. He made me want to lose all my inhibitions.

I loved my dad, really, I did, but he was too protective. Too overbearing when it came to Wyatt and I. I was his imprint, and vice versa. This was entirely ridiculous, for my dad to think that we were irresponsible. If I remember correctly, my parents didn't wait till marriage. My mother was younger then me, seven if we wanted to be technical. Isn't that illegal?

Wyatt and I wouldn't go down that route, at least, the pregnant in high school route. I wasn't even sure I could have kids. And we haven't talked about anything and I refuse to have sex with him until I can tell him 'I love you' and that I'm a mythical werewolf who preys on vampires, which just so happens to be my family.

"Is this really you?" Wyatt asked, gazing at a picture hanging on the wall in the living room.

I grimaced, taking in my pigtails and lack of two front teeth. Braiding my hair when I was six was the only way to get the curls from knotting when I would play with my brothers.

Wyatt grinned and kissed my forehead tenderly. "Don't be embarrassed, MacKayla. You were adorable," he assured me.

"Adorable, mm-h-mm," I mumbled fiddling a little with the piano.

Wyatt gave me a little glare at my low self-esteem, but who would have a high one when you lived with perfection? There's Bella, who, in my opinion, has been pretty her entire life, then Alice, who kind of looks like a black-haired Tinker Bell, and of course, Rose. Rose is total flawlessness, right down to the red painted toes. Whenever she enters a room, she doesn't just turn heads, she breaks necks. And she loved the attention, especially because Emmett is extremely possessive.

"Isn't that your brother and sister, Jake and Nessie?" Wyatt asked, referring to the day I was born. It was a picture of my mom holding me, Aiden, and Ravyn in the hospital with dad leaning beside the bed to smile at the camera.

I blanched and took the picture from its resting place on the mantle where a nice fire was growing strongly and held it tightly against my chest. "No, those are my… real birth parents…" Of course, no one in this house changes their looks, since no one grows old. Shit, I needed to tell him soon.

I almost pissed my pants just at the thought.

"Are you thirsty? My mother is cooking ham, so we're not allowed to eat anything, but I'm sure you want something to drink. Sorry I didn't offer you anything earlier, but –"

Wyatt placed a finger on my lips to silence my panicky rambling. "I would love something to drink," he murmured, pressing his lips to mine.

As we walked by the couch, I put the picture face down on the couch discreetly and prayed he didn't sit there before someone could grab it. Ravyn can grab it, I thought, glancing at the television which was on. He had been watching South Park just a minute ago, now where did he go?

"I was sixteen, Dad," I heard Ravyn say as he left the kitchen, a can of coke in his hand.

"Dad?" Wyatt muttered, looking into the room where Leah, Aiden, and my… father were all sitting.

Could my family make this any harder on me?

~Wyatt's POV~

"Dad?"

I was so confused. I thought they were siblings. I glanced down at Mac and knew. She was keeping something from me. And by the way she glared at a frozen Ravyn, Aiden, Leah, and Jacob, I realized it was big.

"Mac, why did Ravyn call his brother dad?" I asked her softly so the others wouldn't hear. They stiffened though, as if they could.

She tried to shrug nonchalantly, but I saw the fear in her eyes as she looked up at me. "Maybe Carlisle was in here but we didn't see him."

"Cut the crap, Mac, I know when you lie to me. What's going on?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," she whispered and I watched everyone get up and leave the room so that we were alone.

"MacKayla, why have you been stuttering over names…" I said, suddenly realizing the last time she did it. "You called your brother 'dad' tonight, didn't you?"

She fidgeted nervously, a bead of sweat breaking out on her forehead. "No, I called him Jacob," she replied.

I growled. "I'm getting tired of this, Mac."

"How about we go outside?" she suggested and her voice was taking on a side of her I wasn't used to which was anger. She left the room for a moment, her body suddenly shaking. From nervousness or frustration, I wasn't sure.

She came back holding my coat that Esme had hung in the closet for me when I had walked in. She tossed me my flannel jacket, red and black plaid with the familiar black canoe shaped buttons. "What is this for?" I asked, my voice clipped from my irritation.

"What the fuck does it look like, Parker?" she growled at me, her form shaking uncontrollably.

I was shocked. Not once, had MacKayla ever used my last name and sailor's choice of words with me. I was scared. Like, really scared, and I sure as hell didn't exactly enjoy being afraid of my girlfriend.

"Follow me," she ordered, stomping off in the direction of the front porch.

Her walk was graceful like normal and as I slipped on the warm, musky scented jacket, I watched her methodic movement. A tinge of trepidation danced along my spine as we walked out the front door and onto the newly fallen snow.

The snow had descended more heavily once we had gotten inside, after I had arrived and blatantly admired the sleekly shiny Maybach. Mac moved eerily silent through the thickening snow that was pelting the ground, layering it in the downy soft blanket. She wasn't wearing anything besides a pair of jeans tucked into black Uggs, and a thin Dartmouth sweater that was too small for her. I was too far behind to see if she was cold, but I took the shivers and quivering as the answer.

She stopped abruptly when we reached a small clearing at the back of her large house. Her back was to me, and a couple of feet separated us. I didn't like the taste of the distance between us. It was bitter on my tongue and I wanted nothing more then to run up and gather her in my arms. Hold her to me and pretend that her family was normal. But they were far from normal. Calling each other mom and dad when they were brothers and sisters… that cannot be healthy. Then again, getting beat to a pulp by your mother isn't exactly healthy either.

Finally, staring at the trembling body who stood too far away from me, I couldn't take it anymore. I unbuttoned my coat and slipped it from my shoulders. The arctic temperature hit me like a ton of bricks, knocking the air from my lungs and I gulped rapidly, my teeth beginning to chatter, the hair on my skin rising, my body suddenly shaking, trying to warm itself from the biting cold of the winter air.

Mac whirled around. Just as she were about to speak, I cut her off, trying not to sound like a total pansy in my knight in shinning armor moment. "Take this." I handed her the jacket but her arms and feet didn't move her from her spot where she was rooted.

"The cold doesn't bother me," she growled. "Put the damn thing back on before you die of hypothermia. But if that doesn't kill you first, I will."

My eyes narrowed on her face. "Mac, it's cold out. I'm wearing more clothes than you at the moment."

She stepped back from me, adding more distance between us. My heart was beginning to shatter. "Put it the fuck back on, Parker."

Sighing dejectedly, I put it on and fumbled with the buttons, the shaking of my fingers not allowing me the ability to slip a damn button through a fucking hole.

Then, MacKayla was in front of me. She slapped my hands away, hers warm, like she always was, and she buttoned up my jacket, muttering a few choice words that sounded like "Idiot," and "Dumbass," and my all time favorite "Caveman."

I stared at her the whole time, ignoring her feeble attempts to glare up at me. When she had the last button done, her hands were suddenly sliding around my neck slowly, her toasty warm fingers gliding and drawing patterns on the skin there. I couldn't hold it in a moment longer.

"Why are you always so warm? No matter what the temperature is. And don't give me that crap answer you used the last time I asked. Give me the truth. Do you do drugs?"

A laugh bubbled up and out of her throat, but it was small, bitter. She flung herself away from me and the cold bit at the once warmed flesh of my nape. Her eyes turned vulnerable. "I don't do drugs, though that rumor started the minute we moved here. We don't use nor sell drugs, Wyatt. I swear."

I stared at her, waiting slightly impatiently, wanting an answer from her.

She turned from me then, her face looking up as the snow fell from the high heavens. "I…" she trailed off, her voice a mere whisper in the stillness of the night. She turned back around, tears glistening on her cheeks. Her eyes went down cast though. "I don't know how to tell you…"

I broke. Right there. Every irritation I had felt with the secrets, with the many unanswered questions didn't matter. She was all I had, besides my sister, and seeing her sad, seeing her heartbroken hurt. It hurt deep down in a place that I had never really acknowledged before. I ran to her and pulled her into my arms, her tears wetting and dampening my coat.

"I don't want to lose you."

It was so quiet I wasn't quite sure that I had heard it right. But the only thing I could hear besides us was the snow landing gently on trees and grass, flowers and people. I held her tighter against me.

"I'm not going anywhere. No matter what it is you have to tell me, I'm not going anywhere," I vowed.

She pushed herself slightly away from me, her eyes wet, vulnerable, and sadness echoed in their green depths. She looked at the ground. "I-I…" she trailed off yet again before finally looking up at me, snow mingling with her tear streaked cheeks. "Wyatt, I'm a werewolf."

Oooo! Cliffy! Review and I'll update faster! =]

Oh and I posted pictures of the cars, as well as the house (but for the house, just pretend that it's three stories) on my profile so go check it out, will ya?