After the incident everyone had left except Alice. I was grateful for that. She tried talking to me but I went straight to my room. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I needed time to digest what I heard. How could it happen that a stranger knew more about my family than I did?

I locked myself in my room for a few days. Only leaving it to get the food Alice placed in front of my door or go to the toilet. When I finally felt ready I told Alice I wanted to speak to the stranger again.

I was surprised when not even one hour later the stranger was sitting at Alice's kitchen table. It was as if he had been waiting for me to reach out. Maybe he had? Thinking how he had known stuff not even I had known about my parents. Who was this man? Alice served us coffee and brownies.

"I will be in the next room." She said, I nodded and she left.I took one deep breath before facing off the stranger.

"So, who the fuck are you?" I asked as soon as Alice was out of the room.

"My name is Ragnar Svenson. I come from the White Moonshine Pack." He introduced himself. His voice was gravely and calm, but I could feel the power seeping out from it. He was a strong wolf. A fighter. There was no denying it.

"Never heard of that pack." I crossed my arms and leaned back, trying to hide how uneasy I felt in his presence. I didn't trust this stranger.

"Of course not. It's on the other side of the continent." He chuckled.

"What? Then why are you here? How did you know Mom was pregnant?" I asked. Alice had told me except Dad nobody knew. They all found out during the autopsy.

"Because it fits the pattern." Ragnar said.

"Pattern? You just guessed?" I asked with a growl.

"An educated guess." He nodded. "And to answer your previous question. I am here 'cause I am hunting someone or something."

Before I opened my mouth he placed a big folder in front of me.

"Nearly a thousand pages. Each page is a dead mate pair. I call them the mate killer. They kill either pregnant mates the age of your mother or young mates that had been issues such as rejection or bullying."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

I stared at the folder. My mouth felt dry.

"Each time one of the mates slits their throat and the other dies a few days later. Either through suicide or broken heart. Sometimes they leave a child behind, like you, but rarely. Often the mother kills that child as well. So you are kind of a rarity. I can count children that have survived them on two hands."

"Why?" I asked.

"Why they kill them or why I hunt them?"

"Both." I answered, although I didn't know myself.

"They killed my parents. Same as you. Why they kill? That is still a mystery. It happens all over the continent. Randomly."

I opened the folder. The moment I read the first page I wished I hadn't. It was an autopsy report about another female just like my mother.

"They always die exactly one week before the baby would have a chance to survive outside the womb." He said quietly, making me shudder.

"Why?" I croaked out hoarsely.

He shrugged. "I don't know. I have a few theories but nothing confirmed. My biggest guess is, they don't want any survivors."

"Why are you telling me all this?" I asked.

He hesitated for a moment.

"Because no one told me until I figured it out. Thinking all these years my parents committed suicide and left me all alone. That I wasn't important enough to them. It broke me. I'd rather tell you the harsh truth because if I would be in your place I would like to know."

"Maybe I would have rather stayed oblivious." I laughed bitterly. He didn't respond to that. We both knew it wasn't true, because if my parents really got murdered, if they didn't kill themselves... .

It was like he said, then at least they wouldn't have decided to leave me all alone.

I already had started to think same as he had. Wondering if I wasn't enough for my Dad. Not good enough for my Mom. I still found it hard to believe that they were killed by someone or something. I slowly looked through the folder. It was undeniable. So many werewolves died the exact same way as my parents. Many that fit my parents age group and had a child on the way. This was too similar to be a coincidence.

And it was like h said, when they had another child, often that child would be murdered right before the woman slit her throat. Killing both children in the process.

"How many like us are out there?" I asked.

"Survivors of their parents murder?" He asked and I nodded.

"Too many for my taste, but less than a handful."

"Well, thank you for the truth." I said and glanced at the untouched brownies. Neither of us had any appetite after this conversation.

"Do you have any more questions?" He asked and I shook my head. I needed time to digest all I had heard.

"I will be still here for another two weeks. I stay at the guest house of your pack. Feel free to come over if you want to ask something, if you want to talk or if you just need company."

I nodded. I didn't trust my voice anymore.

"My condolences." He said, then took the folder, stood up and left. I sat there on the table motionless until Alice came and hugged me.

That's all I needed to break down crying in her arms. This was all too much.