Chapter 14
Selene’s POV:
The moment my stepfather clears his throat, I already know it’s going to be one of those conversations. You know, the kind that makes you wish you were anywhere else–may be in a pit of snakes or on a deserted island. Because frankly, those options seem more pleasant right now.
“So. Selene, he starts, and I brace myself “I was thinking. human world that I sense you’ve picked up too much of their
you should settle down back here in the pack. You’ve spent so much time in the
freedom”
Olt here we go. I resist the urge to roll my eyes, but it’s a struggle. Settle down! Like Thaven’t been trying to escape this nightmare of a life for years. But I keep quiet, nodding along like the good obedient daughter he wants to believe 1 am. The man’s delusions are truly impressive.
like the
After beating both Mom and 1 up years ago, he’s here to tell me he wants me to stay?
“And since you’re back,” he continues, “Thad a little idea. Why not ask Alpha Dorian to arrange a job for you? As his private doctor! You know, that way you can also stay here and to take care of your mother.”
My stomach clenches at the mention of Mom. The woman who raised me, the only one who ever showed me real kindness, iss the only reason even entertaining this conversation. If being Dorian’s personal doctor would help her. maybe I could tolerate the insanity.
I glance at my father. His eyes are glossy, and he’s putting on a performance Ike he’s up for an Oscar. The fake tears, the trembling lip—it’s all there, as if he actually cares about my mother. He’s always been good at this act, making himself look like the caring husband and father.
For a split second, I almost- —almost—believe he’s changed. Maybe, just maybe, he’s genuinely concerned about her.
Hut
of course, that’s wishful thinking.
And right on cue, he wipes away an imaginary tear and casually slips in “And while you’re there… maybe you could help your brother, Scott. You know, make sure Dorian supports him for the Chief Beta position.”
Ah. There it is. The real agenda. Myy father, in all his manipulative glory, doesn’t give a damn about my mother or me. It’s always been about power, about getting his precious son ahead. I feel my fists clenching under the table, nails digging into my palms. Of course. It’s never been about family–it’s always been about using us to get what he wants.
y up to Dorian, play
I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms. “So let me get this straight,” I say, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You want me to cozy the dutiful doctor, and oh, by the way, slip in a word about promoting your son, Scott? Am I getting that right?”
He has the nerve to look offended, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Selene, you misunderstand me,” he says, shaking his head. “I just want what’s best for the family”
Tanort, “Right. Because nothing says “family values” like using your daughter as a pawn i your
twisted game.
His fake concern vanishess, replaced by something colder. “You’ll do what’s necessary. For your mother.”
Ah, the guilt trip Classic,
But I’m not that naive little girl anymore. I know exactly what this is, and I’m not going to fall for it. I force myself to take a breath, to remember why I’m even here. For her. Not for him. Not for his power plays. And definitely not for his damn son.
~1’11 thank about it,” I say, pushing my chair back and standing up. He doesn’t deserve more of my time, and frankly, I’m done pretending.
my mind already racing: Dorian as my boss? My personal nightmare, wrapped up with a
I walk out of the room before he can say anything else, my
Title bow I muran, what could go wrong?
Everything, probabi
But one thing’s for sure—I won’t let them use me anymore. Not my father, and definitely not Dorian.
I food my roother in her room, the air thick with the smell of lavender and old books. She’s sitting in her usual chair by the window, gazing out at
lang in part then
The sight of her frail figure makes my heart ache, and for a moment, I wonder if maybe my father wasn’t completely lying
it’s hard to trust anything that comes from him.
soldy, stepping into the room. Her head turns slowly, her eyes meeting mine with that familiar warmth. The kind of warmth only she
Doncel beside her chair, trying to keep my voice steady. “Lured to ask you something. Is it true? Are you really …
Her eyes shuft away, and my stomach fighters. That hesitation, that tiny flicker of avoidance–I’ve seen it a hundred times before in people who
Ciemny mother. Surely, she wouldna-
5:47 PM ·
Chapter 11
“I’m not as strong as I used to be she finally says, her voice gentle. “But don’t worry, Selene. I’ll be fine.”
It’s not an answer. Not the one I need. “That’s not what I ask
Lasked. Mom My voice is firmer now, more despri
rue! Are you dying?”
Her hands tremble slightly as they rest on her lap, and she still won’t look at me. I feel something cold settle in my chest. She’s avoiding the question, just like my father does when he’s lying through his teeth.
“I’m just tired. Selene, she whispers, but there’s something else in her tone–something more than fatigue, Guilt? Regret? 1 can’t tell.
ne this to
I bite down on my frustration. “He’s lying, isn’t he?” I press, my voice quieter this time, though the accusation is clear. “Dad’s using manipulate me. He’s not telling the truth about you”
She doesn’t deny it. She doesn’t confirm it either, but her silence says enough.
My hands curl into fists in my lap, the anger bubbling up again. I want to storm back to my father, throw his lies in his face, expose him for 1 manipulative bastard that he is. But before I can move, my mother’s hand covers mine, her touch soft but pleading
the
“Selene, she says quietly, her voice almost too soft to hear “He’s
he’s trying to help your brother, Scott. You know how important this is to him.”
I blink, stunned. “What So you know he’s lying, and you’re okay with it?”
Shr
squeezes my hand, her eyes finally meeting mine with that familiar sadness I’ve seen far too often. “It’s not right, I know. But your brother. he’s not like you. He’s… he’s not strong enough. He needs this. Selene. I don’t know how else to help him.”
1
Her voice cracks, and I feel my heart splintering. I want to be angry at her too, but I can’t. She’s spent her life trying to protect us, trying to do what she thought was best, even if it was twisted. I look at her now, tired and frail, and all I can feel is pity. I suddenly remember the very day I ran out and tried to save myself while she took all the merciless beatings from father,
She’s wrong. So wh
wrong.
But I can’t say it. Not when she’s looking at me like that, like she’s clinging to her last hope.
“You’re asking me
me to help Scott,” I say softly, the words heavy in my mouth. “Even though you know it’s wrong”
She nods, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “I don’t know what else to do. Your father…he wants your brother to succeed so badly, and I’m afraid I’m afraid bell fail without you.”
I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. I want to scream, to tell her that it’s not my job to fix their mess. But I can’t. Not when she’s like this. Instead, I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I do it, Mom, I say quietly. “I’ll help him.”
Her relief is immediate, and she pulls me into a gentle hug. I don’t hug her back, not really. I’m too numb to react. Because agreeing to this feels like walking into another trap, another layer of manipulation. But I’ll do it.
For her. Only for her.
Doman’s glorious image came to mind. I would have to face him if I’m going to make this request and a part of me wants to barge in the packhouse and see him again, but a larger, a lot more broken part tells me otherwise–to run away from the man who hurt me, to run away no matter the cost.
Hut 1 have been running away all my life, so afraid to get trampled on by this sick, cruel world. I’m done running. Working for him means Amara would be there, his child would be there and all I people that have come to loath me would be there.
And I’ll be damned if I let them get through me again.
