***

I crawled into bed the second we reached home, and soon found myself wishing that Gem was beside me. Haunting images from the fight, armed guards hiding in cargo boxes, battered faces bound and gagged in the pitch black of a boxcar, Jet's lethal form in the darkness snaking from man to man and ending lives in quick, silent attacks, and my own hands throwing guards out open doors, wouldn’t stop flowing through my mind.

Hours passed and I eventually gave up sleeping. The nightmares made me more exhausted than not sleeping at all. I rose and walked slowly to the kitchen. The sound of Mom’s breathing and Dad snoring softly in the next room brought a touch of peace to my heart, but I wondered how I could ever rest easy again knowing what people could do to one another.

I poured a cup of fresh milk from the refrigerator and heard Dad sit up and slip his feet into the slippers Mom always set by the side of his bed. I listened to his feet walk down the hall, then tried to look pleasantly surprised when he appeared.

“Oh, come off it,” he said, waving a hand. “I know you heard me from a mile away.” His hair stuck up in all directions and the robe he wore looked as tattered as I felt. Mom constantly tried to throw it away, but he always found it before she finished the job. He wouldn't let it go, saying it had been there for him too long to get rid of it like junk.

He pulled up a chair and sat down.

“Milk?” I offered, lifting up the glass pitcher.

He shook his head and motioned for me to keep drinking. I complied and sipped the milk slowly, enjoying the way the cold liquid worked its way into my stomach.

“Can't sleep?” Dad asked. When I didn't answer, he smiled. “If I point out the obvious, I can pretend I understand what you're going through.” I smiled and he gestured to the glass in my hand. “Molly gave that today. Good milk; it's been her best season.”

I turned the cup in my hand, noting the way the cream of the milk coated the sides like paint. I took another drink and imagined it doing the same to my insides.

Dad sighed and sat back in his chair. He frowned and stared at nothing in particular, his eyes distant. “I don't know if I ever told you about the day we brought you home.”

I glanced at him. “No, you didn’t,” I said, surprised at the direction of his thoughts.

He gave a small, tender smile, his gaze on something in the past. “I don't know why your parents put you up for adoption, but Ma and I have always been deeply grateful to them. It felt like the paperwork would never get done, and the approval process took so long your mom was afraid you would go somewhere else.”

He looked at me. “You see, we knew you were meant to be with us. From the second they brought you into the office and let us meet you for the first time, and you took my finger in your little hand and brought me to the corner to show me the blocks, I knew we had something special.”

Moisture in his eyes reflected the comfortable kitchen lighting. He smiled a weak smile and ran a hand down his face. “I didn't know how special until you turned seven and changed into a wolf for the first time. We didn't know what to do, but we knew we couldn't let anyone know or they would take you away from us and probably do horrible things to you.” His tone darkened and he looked away. “But now, they've done it anyway and I wasn't able to protect you. I couldn't save you from a world where people hurt those who are different. I tried to, but I failed.”

I opened my mouth to protest, the pain in his voice driving a dagger into my heart, but he held up a hand, asking me without words to let him continue. I nodded and sat back in my chair, the cup of milk half-finished and forgotten on the table.

“I can't protect my little boy anymore,” he said, his voice tight. “But I can help the strong young man he's grown into see that there is still good in the world.” He paused, then said, “Jaze’s mother called us when you guys reached the safe house after saving all of them. Your ma cried for hours after talking to her.”

I looked at him in surprise. “Why?”

He smiled the gentle smile once more. “Because her son has such love and compassion for others that he was willing to put his life on the line to save someone in need, again.” He looked at me. “Your mother is a special person, Dray. She is the one who fought tooth and nail to get you here, and she’s the one who did most of the work in raising you. To know that you came out far better than either of us is the best thing that a parent could ever ask for.”

Tears broke free and flowed down his cheeks. The sight wrapped my heart so tight in love that it chased the fear, pain, and nightmares from my memories. I wrapped my arms around him and we both cried, me for what I had done and seen, and him for the same things, but for far different reasons.