📎A/N.  Welcome back.  This week has been a bit busy for me, so I have not had a chance to focus on this chapter as much as I would have liked :(

The chapter gives us a little insight into Murphy... hopefully we get to understand him a little better.

Don't forget to vote if you enjoy the chapter. Remember, each vote lets me know that someone is enjoying my story and really makes my day.

I have also dedicated this chapter to @JadeRoses who never fails to keep me on my toes with her wonderful feedback and insightful comments on the characters and plot twists.

Have a wonderful week...

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Bollocks!

The day had started out as a mess and ended as a complete and unmitigated disaster.

In his frustration, Murphy swore in his native Gaelic.  Something he only tended to do in extreme situations.  The normally unflustered Werewolf was agitated beyond belief.

Murphy O'Neill was a man of very few words.  Actions were the standard he lived by.  Conversations with others led to illusions of trust and friendship.  Both of which, he was in short supply - by choice more than necessity.

The one hour drive to Groton had given Murphy more than ample opportunity to reflect on the fiasco that begun the moment Doug's Agent walked through the door, then inadvertently continued throughout the day.

This is precisely why I work alone. 

It was his own fault, he reflected angrily.  He should have kept tabs on the family.  He should have known that there was a possibility that this might happen.  There were a lot of things that he should have done, but no amount of wishing would make it so.  He was testament to this.

If it was, he would have been with June that fateful day.  He would have killed Elijah, rather than hand him over.  He would have arrived earlier to save his friend. 

And more recently, he would have gone down into the prison when they rescued the Alpha Commander's Mate.  That way, he would have recognised the Werewolf pretending to be a prisoner for what he really was - a stone cold killer who eluded him for forty years.

Elijah, even the name left a bitter taste; one that Murphy had been enduring since his Mate had brutally been ripped from his life.  The moment that Elijah Van der Beck took June's life, his had been destroyed beyond all recognition.

They had been together a brief thirty years.  They should have had hundreds.

They dreamed of the children that would carry their lineage into the future.  Being an only child, June's family legacy now tragically halted.  And unless his sister produced offspring, so too would his family name end.  Both lines forgotten across the annals of time.

The rage he felt upon seeing his Mate's brutally mutilated body had not dissipated over the years. Instead, it smouldered and the desire for revenge the only thing allowing him to survive and continue on without her.

Overtime, the memory of her, and their life together had been securely locked into the recesses of his mind.  It was something not often brought out.  And even less spoken about.

Self preservation focused on the moment that he laid eyes on June's dead body.  The rage and hate for the creature that still walked this earth - alive and free, gave him the strength to continue living. If that is what one could call it.

It did not take long for Murphy to become numb and emotionless as the hate festered and continued to gnaw away at the grieving Werewolf. 

No longer able to face the sympathetic glances and concern from his Pack he distanced himself.  The rift he erected had eventually taken a toll on his duties as a Beta within his Pack. Avoidance was the best policy for those around him, as he shut them out one-by-one.

Physically not able to be in a place that triggered so many happy memories, Murphy left with no real intention of returning.

Revenge his only purpose for existing.  He now knew no other life or wanted to.

The grieving Werewolf traveled to Colorado, hoping to enlist the Alpha Commanders help.

As with the majority of the packs in the US, his pack was affiliated with the Alliance.  The ruling body for the Werewolf Community. 

Daniel Locke, charged with the security and safety of those within the Alliance, had Werewolves strategically located in various Law Enforcement agencies across the country.  They were responsible for keeping an eye on the local unaligned and rogue Werewolves.  Their role was to ensure that their race was not exposed to the human population. They were the front line to stop any possible exposure before it could get out of control.

The Alpha Commander taking pity on the young Werewolf helped Murphy begin his career in Law Enforcement. Before joining the FBI, he was placed into a number of Police Departments in cities they suspected the rogue Werewolf would appear. 

This strategy paid off, and eventually Elijah surfaced in Boston.  A quick transfer was arranged, and Murphy was closer than he had been in twenty years. 

His capture of Elijah was not without consequence however, and it was the last time he had agreed to work with a partner.  Elijah's subsequent escape seemed to make Ryan's death that much more tragic and pointless. 

The memory of his long departed friend, brought his mind violently back to events from that morning.  After attempting to make the Agent In Charge understand that he preferred to work alone on these cases, Murphy had been caught off guard with Kaitlyn's stormy entrance. 

The Werewolf halted mid-sentence when the scent of someone about to burst through the door hit him.  For a moment, just the briefest of moments, he'd almost believed that his long dead friend was about to walk into the office. And it wasn't just him.  His wolf sat up and took notice.

He knew the instant she appeared who she was.  There was no mistaking the resemblance.  It was no wonder he thought a ghost was about to appear.  The familial scent, the features, and even the way in which she spoke.  There was no doubt that she was Ryan's daughter.

Memories of yet another person who had been ripped from his life by the monster came to the forefront, almost threatening to wrinkle his stoic composure.

His preoccupation with dampening down his rage, which was forever bubbling just below the surface, had distracted him.

Enough so, that he had managed to lumber himself with Kaitlyn as a partner before he knew what was happening.  What was more infuriating, was that there were going to be two more human's foisted onto him.

How many times did he need to tell them he worked alone?

He did not want to be responsible for any other deaths.  He most certainly did not want Ryan's daughter's blood on his hands. There was already enough on him to drown a lesser man. 

So how in bollocks name did I manage to end up with Ryan's offspring and two other humans?

Murphy had watched Kaitlyn throughout the day.  The apple did not fall far from the tree.  She had her father's inane instinct and didn't miss a thing.  He would be impressed if he didn't feel some level of guilt for the possibility of history repeating itself.

A number of times he had been thrown back twenty years.  The resemblance, attitude and the determination was uncanny.  He'd found himself absently thinking that Ryan would be proud of his progeny. 

It had unsettled him when he realised Kaitlyn had picked up on him sniffing the scene for any telltale clues.  His sense of smell being that much greater than a humans, gave him the ability to pick up information that would otherwise be missed.

Attempting to ascertain where Elijah may have been, his movements had been at the micro-level. 

So how had she noticed it?  No one ever does.

Her attention to the smallest of details was astounding.  Kaitlyn's discovery of the arm was something even he had failed to notice.       

Even so, he was unprepared to be responsible for a team, let alone a partner.  However, based on the recent conversation with the Director, no choice was given to him.  The matter had been taken out of his hands.

He was now left with having to come to terms with the fact that he was responsible for someone other than himself.  Something that did not sit well with him or his Wolf.  He had left that behind nearly half a century ago.

By the time Murphy arrived in Groton, the evening had set in; a slight chill nipped at the night air as Autumn showed its presence.   The house he was staying in was in a remote and secluded part of the area, and there were no close neighbours.  More importantly, the house bordered the local state forest.

After dumping his keys inside the house, he disrobed and transformed into his animal form on the verandah.  Murphy was wound up tight and his Wolf was becoming agitated.  He needed a long run to calm his nerves and think through his next steps.

The moon was high in the night sky and midnight was well passed by the time his Wolf calmed down enough to return home.  The small rabbit they caught was not enough to sate his appetite and, not wanting to alert the local community there was a predator killing the larger fauna, he needed to return to the house to eat.

Half-way between the tree line and the house, Murphy's Wolf gave control back to him, and he transformed back into his human form. Taking the back-steps up the veranda two at a time, he opened the screen door and halted. 

Bollocks!

Standing on the other side of the verandah, wrapped in a blanket  which had been left on the porch swing, was a very stunned and shocked looking Kaitlyn Quinn. 

Despite the moon being the only source of light illuminating the immediate area, he could clearly see the blood had drained from her face. 

Her eyes were open wide; her pupils dilated so that very little of her iris could be seen. Her body instinctively letting in more light so that her brain could process the information rapidly, allowing it to be hyper-alert.

Murphy could hear the erratic thumping in her chest as adrenaline blasted her senses, making her heart rate faster in order to force oxygen to her muscles, and limiting the amount to her stomach.

Kaitlyn's breathing had become eratic and laboured as the instinctual fight or flight response challenged her initial frozen disbelief.

As the Werewolf took a step closer to her, Kaitlyn's brain engaged her fight instinct. The blanket fell to the ground, and she steadied herself for attack, instinctively reaching for her weapon with her right hand.   Her left fist, steadfastly holding on to what he could have sworn was a photograph. 

Damunú aír!

Murphy was thankful that she was not wearing her gun as he was positive she would have used it; and whilst a shot or two would not kill him, it would most definitely hurt.

"I am not going to hurt you," Murphy assured her gently, as he raised his hands up to show her he meant no harm.

"Are you... him?" her voice came out croaky with an edge of panic as it rose an octave.  Her eyes darting around the verandah as if calculating the best escape route.

"No, like you, I am trying to stop him."

At this, he took a step forward and their eyes locked. The alarmed woman seemed to consider his words. Not once, breaking eye contact.

"But he's just like you."

Recognising this as a statement rather than a question, Murphy closed his eyes for a moment.  Even in her stunned state, her mind was connecting the dots.

"If you mean, not quite human? Then yes, we are.  But make no mistake Kaitlyn," his muscles clenched as he icily spat out his disgust at her implication, "I am nothing like that cold-blooded bastard!"

The intense scrutiny as she stared directly into his eyes, made him uncomfortable.  It was though she was searching for the darkest secrets that he harboured deep within his soul. 

Seconds stretched into minutes as time painfully passed by.  Each moment longer than the last, as he waited for her mind to process the situation.

Murphy recognised Kaitlyn's need for the reassurance that he was not like the monster she knew the Boston Wolf Killer to be.  He allowed her to see through the wall he had erected to separate himself from the outside world.  Hoping it would be enough to alleviate her fears. 

Taking a step back, she took in the rest of him as if attempting to reconcile what she knew, against what she had just seen.  A myriad of emotions flickering across her expressive face.  He watched as the obvious inner turmoil raged a battle within her.

The Werewolf cursed himself, How the hell did this day go from disaster to complete fuck up? 

A thought suddenly struck him.

What is she doing here in the first place?

Focusing back on the woman teetering between two separate states of mind, Murphy knew the instant she had made her decision.  Her pupils returned to their standard size.  Her muscles relaxed and her breathing recovered.

They continued to stare at each other as she determined her best course of action.

"Okay, I believe you," she breathed out finally, as she looked back up at him, a slight blush appeared on her face, "but can you please, for the love of Mike, put some clothes on!"

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📎A/N. ..... did any of you see that happening ??? guess not :-)

....I think she took that well considering??? :-)  However, I am not sure her brain has totally processed what she saw ...

... Love to see how he's going to explain it all to her !!

... also, not sure I would have told him to put some clothes on in that situation... but that's just me ;-)

Don't forget to vote :-)

See you Saturday...until then, take care.

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