My True Self

By N.C. East

Kalyna started out life as an orphan but finds out more about her past than she could ever imagine after a fateful meeting at a party in her new town. A shy and sickly outsider, Kalyna finds a community that she fits into perfectly and soon rises to her true potential. The only problem? She has to keep it all secret. After spending her entire life doing everything society expected of her, in order to fit in, she must embrace a completely contrary lifestyle to find true happiness, satisfaction, and her true self—a werewolf with three brothers as mates.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Torrid Books
• Release date: Oct 1, 2013
• ISBN: 9781611607109

N.C. East

N.C. East is a young author from the Pittsburgh area who uses her studies in anthropology to craft stories that are not only entertaining but deep in cultural and societal themes that often shine a mirror on the modern world we live in today.

Book preview

MY TRUE SELF

by

N.C. East

TORRID BOOKS

www.torridbooks.com

Published by

TORRID BOOKS

www.torridbooks.com

An Imprint of Whiskey Creek Press LLC

Whiskey Creek Press

PO Box 51052

Casper, WY 82605-1052

Copyright Ó 2013 by N.C East

Warning: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 (five) years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of the author or the publisher.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

ISBN 978-1-61160-710-9

Credits

Cover Artist: Gemini Judson

Editor: Fern Valentine

Printed in the United States of America

Dedication

Dedicated to Stephanie S., for her unwavering friendship.

Chapter 1

How was your holiday? Isn’t it so odd when Easter comes before St. Patrick’s Day?

It was fine, I responded as I looked at the woman in front of me. She epitomized small town charm.

So, tell me about yourself–who is Kalyna Stasiya?

Well, I’m twenty-four and grew up in Arizona. It’s been interesting adjusting to the weather here. I’m not much of a morning person. I like my job. I like working here.

Yeah, Pennsylvania is very different from Arizona. We are only about forty minutes outside of Pittsburgh. Do you get into the city much?

Not really. I’m still adjusting here.

You have been working here two months. How are you adjusting? We like to check in with our new employees and make sure that they are happy, not struggling. You know, the basics.

I am doing good. Settled into my desk. Getting to know the people I work with. Finding the work interesting. It’s a lot different than my last job.

Hmmmm, says here you worked at a small accounting firm for two years before coming here. So what made you decide to come here?

Well, to be honest, I applied for the job through a career search website. I grew up in foster care so I didn’t have family tying me down. I was always a sickly kid. I’ve been to dozens of doctors throughout my life. I have always suffered from weakness, stomach issues and lethargy, so coming to work at a place so close to the major medical institutions in Pittsburgh seemed to make sense. I wanted to try the east coast doctors and see if they had any ideas about my illness.

I’m sorry. Did the doctors ever find out what’s wrong? We have the best doctors and researchers here so you are in good hands!

Nothing so far. All of the doctors have different ideas but no one really knows. I’ve gotten used to not knowing and just live with it.

How do you find your work load?

Oh, it’s fine.

Well good! exclaimed the woman as she made notes on a paper in a folder. I think that’s all for us. Have a good rest of your week and remember that myself and the rest of human resources is here if you ever need anything!

I obliged and left the woman’s office. As I waited for the elevator I thought about how I had just lied to her. I didn’t like my job. The only reason I became an accountant was because I was good with numbers. Who really likes their job anyway? We just do it to survive. I was living alone in a small studio apartment, in a small town in Southwestern Pennsylvania, with few friends, no energy and no boyfriend. In fact, I had never been on more than two dates with the same guy. Good and well-adjusted was something I had never been.

Back at my desk was a pile of papers that hadn’t been there before. Claire, whose desk sat next to mine, was taking the Easter egg decoration off of her desk and replacing it with a plastic shamrock. Flipping through the new workload on my desk I realized it wasn’t as bad as I had thought.

How was your HR meeting? Claire asked as she handed me a slip of paper.

It was okay. What’s this?

My cousin is having a party on Saturday for St. Patrick’s Day. This is his address. You should come! I will be there so you won’t be alone. His parties are so popular. There will be a lot of people there. Maybe you will meet a guy, she said with a wink.

Doubtful, I retorted with obvious pessimism in my voice.

Oh, don’t be like that!

I smirked and went to work. I pulled the sleeves of my blue blouse up and took the phone out from the pocket of my black slacks and tossed it on my desk. As my eyes glanced from papers to computer screen, my fingers pecked at the keyboard and I fiddled with my shoes on my feet under the desk. They were one inch heels, were new and rubbed the back of my feet almost raw. Being five feet, eight inches, I hated wearing heels because they made me look freakishly tall, but these had been on sale and I couldn’t pass them up. My heels paid the price.

Chapter 2

I decided to go to Claire’s cousin’s party. When I walked up the sidewalk to his place, I noticed she was right; there were a ton of people there. I entered the living room and searched for Claire as I adjusted the long sleeved green shirt I was wearing. She found me before I even saw her. She skipped towards me and welcomed me with a red plastic cup filled with watered down green beer. We chatted and she introduced me to her cousin and some of her friends, all of whom were very nice people, although not particularly interesting. Claire nudged me and used her eyes to point at two guys lingering on the other side of the room.

They have been checking you out this whole time! As soon as you walked in they were looking at you. Cuties, don’t you think?

Yeah.

They were actually extremely attractive. One was probably just an inch taller than me with dark, slightly spiked hair. It looked like he spent hours to make it intentionally look messy. He wore a black golf shirt that accentuated his pecs and biceps. The collar was popped. He had a faint goatee and a narrow chinstrap that formed into a razor thin line of hair on his upper lip. Around his neck were green beads and shamrock necklaces like the kind found at any cheap party store. I noticed a tattoo on his arm even though it was partially covered by his sleeve. It was the stereotypical tribal design that wrapped around the entirety of his arm, the black ink shining on his tan skin. His ears were pierced, each with a small diamond. A platinum bracelet hung from his wrist while his jeans, crisp and new, were secured snugly with a beige cloth belt that did not fit in his belt loop and instead hung down his waist. If he moved just right I could see the top of navy blue boxer-briefs poking out above his waistline.

The other man was about two inches taller and had a green ringer tee that rested snugly on his muscles. They were well defined but not as large as his companion’s. His hair had a slight wave to it and was pulled back from his forehead. He wore a watch with a dark black face that strapped to his wrist with a thick leather band.

As I looked across the room to them, the shorter one smiled while the taller one lifted his beer in acknowledgment of me. Claire pushed me in their direction and I opted to go over and talk to them. There was just something about them I found irresistible.

My name is Kalyna.

Hi Kalyna, I’m Quincy, the taller one began, and this is my brother, Darren. Never seen you before.

I just moved here from Arizona.

Arizona? Darren said with shock. You were living there?

I was born there….

What? We don’t live that far west. Quincy seemed floored.

We? I asked, perplexed.

Yeah. Our kind. Us. We. Who are your parents? What’s your family name? Quincy was relentless in his questioning.

I don’t understand what you mean by us, we. What is our kind? My last name is Stasiya. Is that what you mean by family name? I don’t know my parents. There was a fire when my mother was pregnant with me. She died minutes after I was born. She named me and was only able to give my father’s last name. I have never been able to track down any family. There was a note in my adoption record that she had an accent. My name is Ukrainian so I guess she was from around there. Why am I telling them all of this? I am usually so guarded, but I feel so comfortable around them. Do I know you guys? You seem so familiar to me!

No, you don’t know us. That’s a very interesting story, Darren said with a saddened tone. So you don’t know your family history?

History? No, and it’s not a story. I grew up in foster care. It wasn’t that bad though. Not at all like the horror stories on TV.

Darren stared at me the entire time; his dark eyes, deep ponds of sensitivity, pierced through me. I had never been looked at like that before. You are beautiful, he said.

I was shocked. I had never had anyone say that to me, especially not a pretty boy. I instantly knew that he meant it. His voice rang with sincerity. I was taken off guard by his bluntness.

Relax, Quincy ordered Darren. Kalyna, would you please come and meet our brother? He is at work right now but will meet us at a diner. I really think you should. We will buy you a cup of coffee.

You two are brothers?

Yes, I’m twenty-three and Darren is twenty-one, responded Quincy, Fuller, our older brother, is twenty-five. Oh, and our family name is Grath.

Oh, okay. I’m twenty-four. He’s working late on a Saturday? I felt compelled to let them know every detail about me and at the same time craved information about them.

Yeah, Quincy said nodding his head. We own a farm of sorts. It has some animals and a small vineyard. We sell local food and stuff at our butcher shop and store near town. It’s called Willow Farm Foods. Ever heard of it? It has been in our family since the early 1700s. We were born in upstate New York and moved here two years ago when our grandparents retired. That’s when we took over the store from them.

I’ve driven past there. Looks nice. I paused in contemplation. Umm, okay, let’s go see your brother.

As I made my way back to Claire to tell her that I was leaving, I thought about what I was going to do. I wasn’t sure exactly why I agreed to leave with the two strangers, but I knew it was the right thing to do. I felt so comfortable around them. I knew it was what I was supposed to do.

My mind raced as I followed them in my car. The more time I spent around them the stranger I felt. I couldn’t help but smile. I felt euphoric in their company. I wondered if this was what love at first sight felt like.

When we walked into the diner I instantly knew which one was their brother, Fuller. He was sitting at a booth playing with his cell phone. His hair was slightly messed up. He had a five o’clock shadow that looked like it was a permanent fixture on his chiseled jaw. His muscles were well defined and tight. His blue jeans appeared well worn with fade spots both on the back pocket where his wallet pressed and on the front pocket that housed his cell phone. His plain white tee shirt was wrinkled, like he had just put it on. He was attractive, very attractive. I felt inexplicably connected to him and his brothers. There are no words to explain the level of instant attraction and familiarity I felt towards them.

Fuller stood as we approached the table and shook my hand as he introduced himself. His hands were smooth and firm. He felt very powerful and unequally gentle. His smile made me smile and pulled me to stare into his deep, brown eyes. Quincy and Darren sat in one side of the booth, Fuller pulled a chair up to the end of the table and I had one side of the booth all to myself. He flagged down the waitress and ordered four coffees.

I will have a fruit salad, please, I said politely to the waitress as my stomach growled.

What? Fuller exclaimed. No, you can’t eat that. That’s why you look so sickly!

What? Fruit is healthy.

Trust me, you can eat healthier. Fuller’s voice calmed me. She will have three eggs, sunny side up but only cooked for like three seconds. Do you understand me? Just long enough to hold it together on the plate.

That’s almost raw, Sir, the waitress said with a tone of confusion and disdain for Fuller’s own tone.

I would prefer them raw but you can’t legally serve them to me like that.

The waitress shrugged her shoulders and walked away to place the order. Fuller told me that I like meat and I like it raw and that I’m more of a night person than a morning person. How did he know this about me?

You all seem really familiar to me. Are you sure I don’t know you from somewhere?

No. I am sure, Fuller responded to my inquiry. You really don’t know about who you are? He looked in astonishment to his brothers, who were passionately looking in my direction as my eggs arrived.

How do you know that about me? I hate mornings. I do my best work at night. In college I worked nights for a shipping company and felt the best I had in a long time. And a rare steak is my favorite meal to order.

Let me ask you something, Kalyna, Fuller leaned back in his chair and propped his foot on the corner of my seat, have you ever been in love? Have you ever had sex?

I was taken aback by such blunt questions but at the same time felt compelled to answer them, and answer them honestly.

Actually, no, I have never been in love and, if you must know, I am still a virgin. What are they? Some kind of cult? They don’t give off a religious vibe.

They all smiled. So are we, Fuller responded with kind eyes. You never really found anyone you connect with in Arizona, did you? At least, no one you felt the way you feel about us right now. It’s a lot to take in. Fuller took out a pen and scribbled an address and phone number on a napkin as he left money on the table for the check. This is our store address and my number. Come by tomorrow at noon for lunch. We will answer all of your questions.

They stood and left, smiling at me as they exited the restaurant. I sat there, confused. Darren and Quincy waved at me through the window as they walked to their car. I finished my coffee, ate the eggs and realized that I had never felt so good. The rawness of the eggs seemed to satisfy a primal hunger that lurched inside of me while the brothers warmed my heart and after a few minutes I felt a strange longing for the three men. I missed them like nothing else I had ever missed. It was as if they filled a void that I’d never known I had.

* * * *

The next day I went to their store and was greeted by all three of them. They gave me a tour. It was a small and quaint establishment. A large meat counter was the centerpiece and shelves filled with local produce and other products took second place. The store was busy. In the back they gave me a glimpse of where they cut the meat. It smelled so good. I had always liked the smell of raw meat but never admitted it to anyone.

Smells good, doesn’t it, Darren said as he smiled at me.

Fuller grabbed some fresh steaks, wrapped them up and we left for the brothers’ house. The drive took about fifteen minutes along a winding main road that stretched farther into the country. After another ten minutes on a back road we came to a long log fence that shielded rows of grapevines from the road. A giant old willow tree sat where the road met a long dirt driveway. The tree was quite elegant in its enormous presence and drew my attention. The driveway rolled up and down small hills flanked by grapevines with peacocks roaming through them. It wound on for about a half mile before it reaching a large, old but beautiful house.

The three brothers pointed to the various surrounding buildings. To one side was the winery, a large stone building that showed its age and grace. To the other side, behind the house, were fields and barns that housed chickens, turkeys and pigs. Ducks swam on a large pond or small lake in the distance near which sat the slaughterhouse.

The porch to the house was large with five stone steps leading up to it. Stacked stones made a waist-high wall that enclosed it and created a sanctuary from the cool ground below. Inside Kalyna was given a tour by all of the brothers. There was a giant living room, a library, dining room and bathroom. The kitchen looked rarely used and was filled with appliances from the 50s. The basement housed a wine cellar, freezers, exercise equipment and random cardboard boxes. Upstairs were more bathrooms and a staggering ten bedrooms. The house was graceful and beautiful despite its age and