Blood makes you related. Loyalty makes you a family.

Anonymous

Daphne knew fear. Really, by now she should know that feeling far better than anything else.

Just that his time she could feel the wolf in her chest on high alert, she could feel it move in the back of her head, could feel it worry as well.

It was a startling experience.

It was there during the drive home when the car was as quiet as a tomb, only sometimes interrupted by Grace asking Ollie a question. Luke next to her was quiet and lost in thoughts, not even holding her hand like he was normally prone to do.

She didn't dare to reach out either. She didn't want to make him upset with her. Well, not even more upset than he already was.

Daphne wrecked her brain with asking what she had done?

What could she have done that made Luke's father this angry?

She hadn't done anything over the last few weeks. She had gone to school, she had done her homework on time, she had gone to art club...she had gone to all the evening runs with the pack...

Daphne didn't know the answer to that question.

She had done nothing different than any other time before that. Nothing different that could explain why Luke's father was angry at her.

His anger was scaring the out of her.

What had she done?!

She didn't know .

And she hated not knowing.

Her mother had often enough punished her for drinking her alcohol. Daphne never had, but it wasn't like Michelle had believed her when there was no alcohol in the house and her mother was in another one of her moods.

Daphne just hoped that that evening wouldn't end in a mess of bruises for her.

The reed house came into view, finally, the torture of not knowing coming to an end.

She wanted to relax, wanted to take a deep breath and tell herself that it couldn't be that bad, but then she looked outside and she saw a black SUV that she had never seen before.

It was a very rare occasion that there was any sort of new car in Fairbury that Daphne didn't know by now.

She wasn't the only one that put on high alert.

It was Luke that opened his car door first and the way his spine straightened and he snapped to attention, told Daphne that something was wrong.

"Luke?" She asked him timidly, watching how his nostrils were blaring, obviously taking in the scent of something and she tried to pull that to the forefront of her mind as well.

It was something sweet, too sweet. Maybe like burnt sugar? Daphne had smelled that before, even when she couldn't quite place it at the moment.

"Cyril Randall is here," Luke answered, his voice tight.

Cyril Randall.

So it must be something with her book.

Daphnejsut had no idea why that would make Luke's father upset.

She opened the door of the car, slipping out, and was quite surprised when Luke appeared at her sid, taking her hand in a gesture she could only describe as possessive.

"It's gonna be okay," she brought out shockingly. She was lying to herself as Luke pulled her to the front door, which was opened by Stephen.

Well, at least he wasn't glaring at her.

"Luke, Daphne, come in, please," he said, his voice still tight.

"What's wrong?" Luke demanded to know as Daphne stepped inside the house and Luke helped her out for her coat.

"Into the living room please."

If the car had felt like a tomb...then a step into the living room felt like she was stepping onto the battlefield and having no idea on which side she was.

The battle lines had been drawn.

Caroline and Matthew sat on one of the two couches, Cecilia Schuyler and Luke's Uncles Sebastian and Andrey standing near there as well.

Leda Randall was sitting on the other sofa, her brother was prowling behind it but had snapped to attention as they entered the room.

Luke's back was held so tight that if he was a bow, she would have been worried that it would break.

He stepped into the room before her, ushering her into the single big armchair in the room, standing behind her in what she could only describe as a warning to anybody else in this room.

And Daphne felt ready to faint. She had no idea what exactly she was supposed to do right now, not when the pressure in that room was palpable and she expected it to explode any minute.

"Honey, are you okay?" Caroline asked her gently and Daphne wanted to ask her aunt the same question because she looked terrible, to be honest.

Pale and like she had been crying.

"What's wrong?" Daphne pressed out. Her answer to her aunt's answer depended on the answer to her own question. Even if having all the family in the same room was...calming. The only one not there was Kiana and her family.

"We...got some new information that we think you should be aware off," Luke's father said calmly as he herded Grace and Ollie into the room as well, a sharp jerk with his chin, making them stand beside Cecilia.

"Is that what we call it now?" Cyril Randall asked his voice smooth, and icy and dangerous like a lake that had frozen over but could still break down as soon as you entered it.

"How would you like to call it?" Stephen bit back sharply. "You came here unannounced, Cyril. I scared the fuck out of my kids to make them come here as quickly, and now you want to talk about semantics?"

Daphne couldn't help but flinch at the raised voice, Luke's hand dropping to her shoulder, a warm and heavyweight that was the only thing in that room that was at least slightly comforting.

Cyril Randall just glared as an answer.

"I think we are all being a bit...thin skinned right now..." Leda tried to smooth it out, but her brother just growled, a sound that felt like it went right through Daphne in a way she didn't like at all,

She curled up in the chair, a shiver going up her spine as she averted her gaze.

"You said it was about Daphne. Just tell us what's wrong," Luke said tightly, his hand still on Daphne's shoulder, the fingers digging into her shoulder, which was surprisingly calming sense. Daphne wasn't the only one who wondered what in gods name had gown awry

"You don't have anything to say here," Cyril Randall growled, being cut off by the even voice of Stephen Schuyler.

"Cyril. That's my son you are talking to," Stephen said, his voice may be sounding even but the tinge of danger was there nonetheless.

"And even if I wasn't my father's son, you are still talking about my mate," Luke said sharply, his voice cutting like a scalpel. He had straightened up to his full height, the muscles in his back still tense and Daphne wanted to reach out to soothe the strain away, but she couldn't. Not right now.

Something in the back of her head told her that staying right where she was was the safest place for her to be and she believed that.

"She isn't your mate," the alpha of New York said just as sharply, and Daphne recognised moment that he had crossed a line. She needed to swallow done the distressing whine that wanted to leave her throat and go jump that man's throat at the same time. Somehow Daphne didn't think that either of these two things would go over well at all.

"She is," Luke growled in disagreement. "And if I were you, I would be careful about your next words."

"The bond isn't complete yet," Cyril Randall said with a raised eyebrow. "She isn't. Your. Mate ."

"Since when is that any of your business?" Luke demanded harshly. "For fuck's sake, one of you tell me what's going on!"

He lost his cool, his voice echoing through the room, making Daphne flinch because Luke lost his temper so rarely.

But right now he did.

She managed to slip her hand around his wrist, curling her fingers around it, feeling his pulse jump under her touch from where hs still stood half in front of her, his shoulder squared and ready to physically defend her if the need arose.

" The status of your mating bond is my business when my underage daughter is one of the parties," Cyril Randall hissed.

If Luke's word had cut through the room like a scalpel than this felt like somebody had taken a chainsaw through Daphne.

At least it felt like that sentence ripped her whole world view apart from the centre out and leaving her without understanding anything.

His daughter.

No, that couldn't...He couldn't be her father. He couldn't be...

"Cyril is Daphne's biological father," Stephen Schuyler's voice was soft and reaching her like it was spoken through a whole mountain of cotton wool, while Daphne was trying desperately to somehow...

Her father. Her father...her...father.

When she had still been a child...when her mother had started to hurt her more and more badly than Daphne had dreamed of her father showing up. Of somebody that would take her away from that mess and take her to live with him in a perfect world where she would have gotten ice cream for dinner and not need to worry about anybody beating her if she tried to take the whiskey bottles from her only parent.

Then she had dreamed of that.

The older Daphne had gotten...the more she had jaded she had become. She had started to believe that her mother maybe not even know who her biological father was, had thought that it was a drunken hookup in a bar, something that made her promise herself that she would never do that.

She had wondered if he had maybe died of a drug overdose years before. She had wondered if he was a heavy drinker like her mother and if Daphne would be happy that she had never met him.

Right now she would be very happy to have never met him.

Because now her father wanted to take her from the only family that Daphne had ever known. The words hadn't been said yet...but it was clear. That was his intention.

She breathed in harshly, suddenly feeling like she didn't get enough oxygen, a hand going to her throat feeling the necklace that Luke had figured her to her birthday under her fingertips. She grapes it in her fist, feeling the sharp points of the stone cut in her hand, but at that moment Daphne just needed something that was there.

Luke still stood there frozen in place and she couldn't... she couldn't...

"That's it?" Ollie blurted out at that moment and at another time Daphne would have probably started to laugh at her cousin tendencies to make fun out of everything. Right now she couldn't laugh.

"Oliver!" Her aunt snapped sharply.

"I thought somebody was dying, " he defended herself.

The only one who felt like she was dying was Daphne herself, she thought darkly when it felt like the world was caving in around her and she pressed her eyes closed, fighting to breathe in enough air.

She couldn't help but panic when it felt like there wasn't enough air for her to breath when her lungs constricted tightly.

"Daphne..." Luke's voice was there, his hands suddenly enveloping her face. "It's okay, Sweetheart, just take a deep breath for me," he commanded her softly.

"Breathe, Daphne." She listened to his order, greedily sucking in the air, his voice calming her enough that it felt like she could get some air again.

"Sweetheart, it's okay," he whispered, his fingers sluicing through her face when he pulled her against her chest and she hid her face against him, breathing in his scent, that the thing that seemed to flip the switch in her brain that made it possible to think again.

She was safe. She was with Luke.

"It's fine...We'll figure it out," he promised her softly and she believed him. She needed to believe him.

She nodded her agreement but kept a hold onto Luke when he manoeuvred them so that they were both sitting in the armchairs.

That wasn't possible in any way but with her on his lap but really, Daphne couldn't care less how that would go over.

She didn't look at her father, unable to even look up. So she concentrated on Luke's hand instead, concentrating on the skin that seemed tanned even now in the depth of winter and tried desperately to keep her breathing even.

"When did you find out?" She brought out hesitantly. Had he always known? Had he known what her mother did to her? Had he cared about it?

"A few weeks ago," he answered her question, something in his voice that she couldn't place.

Not knowing what to do, she just nodded her acceptance of that answer. So he hadn't known about her before.

She had a thousand questions she wanted to ask him, first and foremost how he had ever known her mother. Daphne must have been an accident there was no other explanation why her father didn't know if her existence otherwise, bad she really didn't know what she should do with that knowledge.

None of her parents had ever wanted her.

"Why are you here now then?" Daphne asked softly. Why was he here now? Why did he care suddenly? Couldn't he just leave her in peace?

"To get you," he answered tightly.

A part of her had already expected that answer but her breath still caught in her throat when she thought about all the repercussion that would have. Suddenly the atmosphere in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

"To get...me," she repeated, pressing out the words, hoping that he wasn't actually serious.

But that hope was in vain.

"Yes. You are my daughter. You are a member of the Randall pack and you will come to live with me."

A part of her wanted to start to sob, a part of her wanted to shatter, when her heart contracted sharply in her chest, when she would feel how Luke's hand curled into her clothes, how he nearly vibrated underneath her with terror and anger.

And another part...another part was furious.

So she let go of that part of herself, not even bothering to bite down the harsher words that wanted to get over her lips.

She would not go with him without a fight. And a fight she would give him.

Her head snapped up and she glared at him so harshly that he actually held still for a moment.

"Are you insane? I am not coming to live with you. I don't even know you! For all, I know you could be some lunatic!" She snapped harshly.

"Not a lunatic. If I had known about you I would have taken you from your mother years ago," her father gave back equally as harshly.

"If you had known. It wasn't like you actually cared enough to check if you knocked up my mother." That was probably below the beltline but she couldn't care less. "She's dead now. You don't get to take me from her anymore. And I quite like where I am currently staying."

She loved it even.

She had hoped that being g harsh and venomous about the idea from the beginning would be enough to push that idea out of her father's head but she couldn't have been more wrong.

"It wasn't a question."

"So what, do you want to drag me away if I don't come with you willingly?" she asked him with a snort before growing serious again. "My family is here. Luke is here."

She wouldn't leave him for anything.

"Ah, yes, your...mate." Her father's voice made it very obvious what he thought about that.

Namely nothing.

She glared at him, biting her tongue to not lash out at him.

"Yes, my mate. I'm not leaving him," she said sharply. She wouldn't leave Luke. he was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

But the alpha of New York just looked at her.

"I am not planning to give you a choice," he said tightly and her eyes widened when she realised the threat apparent in these words.

The rest of the room had come to attention as well, all of them staring at Cyril Randall with something akin to horror but Daphne just was furious.

How could he dar coming here and wanting to rip her out of her home, away from her family, just because he suddenly was interested in her?

"Cyril," his sister hissed but he ignored her.

"You will do what your alpha tells you." Something was bleeding into his voice...something that Daphne had learned to very much recognise as the alpha part of him. Luke had it as well. When Luke used it, it felt like a warm shower went down her spine. It was an order. It was something he wanted her to follow and she submitted to his wishes. She trusted him to make the right decision.

This time there was no warm shower. There was no willingness in Daphne to follow that order. So she met his gaze, met her own eyes in her father's face.

"You are not my alpha," she said whisper soft.

He reared back like she had slapped him and a part of her felt a sick sense of satisfaction at that.

She had gotten one up at him. She hadn't won. Not yet. He wasn't willing to back off his standpoint and she knew that.

She knew that there was a decision she needed to make before that night ended and Daphne also knew exactly what she would choose.

"Cyril," Leda's voice was crystal clear. "I think it may be better if we continue this discussion tomorrow. Preferably when we have all calmed down at least a bit."

***

He watched Cyril Randall leave Caroline and Matthew's house and maybe he should feel relieved.

The only thing he felt at that moment was dread though.

None of this had been the plan. None of this was what any of them had expected to happen and now they were...scrambling.

He looked at his mate, still sitting on his lap, looking after her father with near hatred in her eyes. Any other time he would have been happy that she had stood up for herself Right now he had been frozen in place with the fear of Randall trying to take his mate from him and leaving him...

He didn't expect her to start sobbing nearly hysterically as soon as the door closed however and he just held her tighter as she hid her face against the crook of his neck and he curled his hands into the sweater she wore.

Nobody could take her from him. He wouldn't...Luke wouldn't survive it.

"Can he do that?" Luke finally asked, dreading the answer. "Does he have a right to it?"

"He's...Daphne is 17. Anything in front of the courts would just get dragged out until she is a legal adult. He wouldn't be given emergency custody, not without proving that he is the father and he would need a DNA test for that," Sebastian answered tightly. "For us...it's pretty obvious that he is, in fact, the father, for humans not so much."

"And as a werewolf?" Luke questioned tightly.

"She's his child," his father answered, looking out over the ocean. "His instincts are primed. This has the potential to get very ugly, very quickly." That was exactly what Luke did not want to hear. "Blood feuds have been built on less."

"It would be a different conversation if your mating bond would be complete," his mother said carefully. "It's...he wouldn't interfere with a complete mating bond. You would be in the right to kill him for that."

"I hope you are not suggesting that," Luke whispered, burying his face against Daphne's neck.

"It would solve the problem," Daphne brought out shakingly.

No. Not like that. That hadn't been the plan. They had said they would await. He had promised her to wait. He didn't want their bond to spring out of desperation, to only be there because her father was being an asshole and completely unreasonable.