Chapter 45
Everyone is ready to give their most in their most awaited and thrilling adventure in the Island with full of woods and hills. Since they’re all wolves, they want to give their wolves a break.
However, the rules should be strictly followed since Wolf can’t be controlled by the human once it’s in its form.
But they’re just happy to let their wolf have a break too.
Benedetta recovers pretty quickly. She thought she would face a bunch of questions but it’s not the case. Seemingly her family is waiting for the right time to question.
But she can’t deny that she has no idea since when she awakened her power. What kind of power she has, she doesn’t have any idea!
As if when she saw her kids in that state, something in her mind just changed, her body was burning and an overwhelmed power surged through her entire body.
It was a flick of moment but when she realized it, a push from her inside weakened her, making her weakest ever she felt.
Right now, she is thinking of utilizing her power that she has no control on it. It will be troublesome if she suddenly loses her control and harm others.
But she is concentrating on tightening the security around her kids. There is no way she will let anyone lay a figure on her kids Her kids already have suffered twice because of this. Someone is trying to hurt her kids instead of facing her directly. But it’s confusing though.
Who was he? And why did he want to hurt her kids? He wasn’t in guest list at all. The Teleportation that one of strongest powers tells no joke about the man.
Each family has separately got their own boats to land the island. However, Derek took his own with his Beta, leaving Jasmine with her guards.
The island’s warm breeze brushes against Derek’s face as he steps off the boat with others, his shoes crunching on the gravel path. It is a perfect day for a leisurely stroll, but his mind is far from at ease. Today, he has an appointment he’d been dreading to attend. His anger goes up and down each minute.
As he makes his way towards the small restaurant by the beach, he spotted her—a solitary figure sitting at an outdoor table, the sea glinting behind her like a backdrop in a painting. His mother, Mrs Armstrong.
She is already watching him, eyes narrowing as he approaches. The same icy blue eyes that has dominated his childhood, every flicker of their displeasure making his heart race. Today is no different. Derek’s hands are already trembling with fury and hatred as he slips them into his pockets.
“You’re late,” she says, the moment he is within earshot. Her voice is crisp, like the snap of a twig underfoot.
“I don’t drive a boat,” he replies quietly, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from her. He doesn’t bother to offer excuses; he knows she doesn’t care.
“You should’ve planned better,” she demands, her lips pressing into a thin line. “Your lack of organization is one of the reasons you struggle to keep your life together, Derek,”
He doesn’t respond. It is easier this way. Years of experience has taught him that silence is his only weapon in these
encounters.
A waiter approaches, and without consulting Derek, she orders for both of them. He doesn’t mind; he isn’t here for the food.
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He is here to endure whatever lecture she has prepared, knowing that resistance will only prolong the ordeal.
“So,” she begins, as the waiter walks away, “I hear you’ve taken it upon yourself to share our latest project with another company. You didn’t work hard on fighting to get it solely for us Care to explain?”
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Derek shifts in his seat, the wood creaking beneath him. He knows this is coming. It will take forever for them to move on. As if they own every single decision to take.
“Seems like you have sent some tails to give you some shitty information. Who said that I didn’t fight for this?” His voice turns bitter, breaking his wall of patience. But he sighs, knowing that she is not a woman who wants to hear this answer.
“It was a strategic move,” he says, keeping his voice steady. “Collaborating with them could expand our market reach and bring in new clients.”
“A strategic move?” she repeats, her voice laced with sarcasm. “A real strategist wouldn’t need to lean on outsiders to make his company successful. Your grandfather built this business from the ground up without ever compromising our integrity by partnering with competitors.”
Her words hit their mark, as they always did, the mention of his grandfather sending a familiar pang through his chest. He lowers his gaze to the table, tracing the grain of the wood with his eyes, wishing it will swallow him whole or swallow her entirely.
His hand reaches to his neck, with a pressure against the skin, as if he wants to tear his skin apart.
“You never think things through, Derek. You’ve always been too impulsive, too desperate for approval,” she continues, her tone softening just enough to twist the knife. “It’s disappointing, really. I had hoped you would grow out of it by now. But now seeing you letting your own wellbeing go for another woman is pathetic and laughable.”
He clenches his jaw, fighting the urge to respond. He knows it wouldn’t help. She has already controlled him. Now each step of rebellion will bring nothing but danger.
“Excuse me! Your food is ready!”
The waiter returns with their food, interrupting the silence that has stretched between them. She has ordered a salad for herself and a plate of pasta for him. Derek notices the slivers of almond sprinkled over his dish, glistening among the sauce. His throat tightens, but he says nothing.
“Eat,” his mother instructs, picking up her fork. “You look like you’ve lost weight.”
Derek lifts his fork and twirls it through the pasta, the motion automatic. He brings a bite to his mouth, forcing it past his lips. The taste of almonds hits his tongue, sharp and bitter. He swallows, ignoring the itch that starts to creep down his throat. He won’t give her the satisfaction of seeing him react, won’t let her know that her small act of carelessness–or is it malice?-has gotten to him.
As he eats, her words drone on, a constant barrage of criticism, each one a reminder of his failures, of how he will never measure up to her expectations. He chews and swallows mechanically, feeling the itch deepen into a burning. His eyes begin to water, but he doesn’t stop. He would rather die than letting her see him weak.
Derek sets his fork down and wipes his mouth with a napkin, hiding the tremor in his hands. He looks up at his mother, her expression one of satisfaction as she watches him eat. He forces a smile, the corners of his mouth straining. “You’re right,” he says quietly, his voice hoarse. “I’ll try to do better.”
Good! I will wait for the day you will make Mom proud!”
Derek flinches when her hand reaches to his neck, ” You should listen to your Mama if you don’t want to repeat what you did on your sweet sixteen. I know you can’t take the responsibility of what you have done. Neither you can face the woman if you show her the self you showed her on your sixteenth birthday!”
Derek’s jaw clenches as she trails her finger
on the invisible line that only Derek can see.
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Her eyes glow violet as she smirks, ” My son is the only one I have in this entire world. So, be obedient. You can’t leave me for others. Baby. Mom only wants you to fulfill her dreams so that nobody can make me cry again!”
Derek’s eyes widen in shock. He gasps when he feels a rush of strong burning waves tightening his throat. The allergic reaction is thousands of times less painful than this strong waves
My sweet son! You should know your place! Okay? Don’t dare to disobey me!”
Derek struggles to breathe but somehow a thought cross his mind,
“Di–Did you sen–send that bastard…to hurt- Hurt my kids?” His face turns bloody red. Nobody can see him suffering. From outside, it looks like he is just silently having his pasta.
Hah? Well-!” She grins mischievously, ” Was you scared of him
“Damn you!!!” He whispers,”
“Save your breath, Baby! I told you, you are both lucky and unlucky. You are lucky to be my son – Also you are unlucky for being a son of a bastard. If only you acted like your brother, I probably have let you enjoy your dreams and freedom. But what can I do? Your eyes, your damn face just anger me. So to make up for everything that makes me angry, you should behave! Like a good son.”
She let him go, leaning her back comfortably, “Whatever!!! Don’t dare to show your dominance in front of me. I hate your wolf. If I could, I would have killed him when you shifted. Damn that wolf!” She grunts.” That’s why I hate Werewolves!”
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