The Wolfing Way (Lifting the Veil) Read Online Free PDF Page B

comforting grip.
    “Yeah, yeah,” Kris huffed, nodding frantically. “I’m perfectly cool. Can’t you see?”
    His dad chuckled and joked, “Yes, of course you are. If you were any more relaxed, I’d fear for the coherence of your DNA. Now, son, come on. Deep breaths.”
    Leave it to his dad to always put things into perspective. Kris blew out his breath—his cheeks puffed out—and closed his eyes to ease his concerns behind the black veil of darkness.
    “Now listen here, Burton,” Mom said from across the table in the opposite seat. “Kris can handle this because he knows exactly who he is, and no amount of werewolves or whatnots are going to change that fact.” Giving Kris her most endearing—and professional nurse/caretaker—smile, Claire Ellis continued gently. “You have absolutely nothing to worry about, sweetheart. We’re here for you and with you every step of the way.”
    Having his parents nearby to give him a feeling of security, as well as a nudge in the right direction, gave Kris the strength he needed to stand firmly on his own two feet. The panic attack was waning, and his breathing evened out from quick, shallow breaths to longer, calmer ones.
    “Thanks, guys.” He exhaled after a while, smiling. Yeah, this would all work out fine, he said to himself, amid his newfound reserve of abundant self-confidence.
     
     
    T HE huge black SUV with tinted windows fit all of his family and their luggage with ease, and in Kris’s opinion might’ve accommodated a few more relatives, their baggage, and maybe a pet or two thrown in there somewhere as well. Their driver—a huge man with an unusually pale complexion—was on the NFL payroll, and his welcome consisted of tossing the luggage in the trunk and opening the car doors for them to enter without so much as a word, let alone a smile.
    Focusing on his breathing, Kris stared out the window at the wilderness scenery. Tall, moss-covered conifers spread out from the rocky sand toward a clear blue summer sky, and a cool dusty breeze with hints of tree resin hit the flushed skin of his face as he pushed the button to roll down the window.
    “Man, these people must be rolling in dough,” Kris’s older brother, Isaiah, thundered next to him, bouncing on the leather seat and smoothing it with his huge hands.
    “Shut up, Iz,” Kris growled with low fury, not wanting to deal with his ambitious older brother’s taunts right now.
    Isaiah nudged his side with his elbow. “Come on, baby bro. This is a sweet ride. Even you’ve got to admit that.”
    Kris sighed, the nervousness creeping back in huge increments.
    “Leave it alone, Iz,” Dad said from the seat on the other side, his tone fatherly in its conviction—and even more so in its silent warning.
    “Yeah, Dad,” Isaiah murmured apologetically, leaning back in his seat. “Sorry.”
    Grateful to his dad for intervening, Kris adjusted himself on the seat, searching for a bit of coziness before he was thrown to the wolves, as it were. The trouble was he had no clear idea of what to expect. Yes, he’d spoken to Rafe (once), and he’d spoken with the NFL rep (too many times, that was for damn sure), but Kris still felt lost and alone, even with his family at his side. It wasn’t like he was stepping into the lion’s den, but all things considered, he wasn’t far off the mark, he thought gloomily, and fell into a silent depression.
    Curses, shouldn’t he feel excited and happy to meet his soul mate? Kris just didn’t.
     
     
    T HE main house of the King family was bigger than any place Kris had ever seen in real life. The house, surrounded by pine groves, stood high on top of a rocky hill with its three floors, huge floor-to-ceiling windows, modern amenities, and almost a designer look with its natural white color and sharp angles and shapes. Clearly this was the work of a modern architect, or had at least been designed by someone with minimalist artistic vision. The building didn’t blend into