Chapter 11
Aster
Oma’s breath rattles in and out of her chest. Odin, her grandnephew and our pack alpha, lies on his deathbed, sending his henchmen out on wild, dangerous missions. His Hail Mary Pass before he dies.
His demise seems to be dragging the life from Oma’s body, too.
I sit beside her bed and hold her gnarled hand.
I will die with him, she tells me telepathically. I drew lifeforce from the alpha to be the pack seeress. Her explanation makes no sense to me, but there was a mingling of witch blood somewhere in the Adalwulf line. It’s possible some ancient witch wove a spell to forever bind those with the Sight to the alpha of the pack for the protection of both species.
I lift the glass of water to her mouth, fitting the straw between her lips, so she can sip from it.
Odin and I will both end our life cycle without seeing the Blackthroats obliterated.Bitterness laces her words. She’s carried the weight of this feud longer than anyone alive in either pack. To her, winning against the Blackthroats means everything.
She blinks her shriveled lids at me, her blue eyes unfocused as she looks through me into the beyond. You will use your gifts to guide Aiden when he takes the throne. You will draw your power from him, for him.
“How, Oma?”
You will know.Her lips barely move when she speaks, like it’s too much of an effort.
I draw an uneasy breath.
The future she’s seen for me doesn’t mesh with what I’ve been shown. The glimmers I’ve had of the Blackthroats. Of a mate.
Of my betrayal.
They terrify me–all of them.
And working with Aiden–partnering with him? That feels impossible. He may be a cousin, but I scarcely know him. He treats me like a child.
I often still feel like a child. I’ve been so sheltered here in my prison tower. This Manhattan mansion on Billionaire’s row. I’m barely allowed to leave, and when I do, I’m under guard. My whole life has been spent within these walls. Tending to Oma, learning from her. Training.
I’ve been kept in the dark ages. I have no access to computers or cell phones or all the technology that the rest of the family employs. It’s forbidden for me.
I wasn’t allowed to attend school–not elementary, middle or high school. College has never been in the cards. All I got was a parade of tutors who came to me and taught me a carefully crafted cannon meant to mold me into the vision Oma had for me.
I’m supposed to remain untainted.
Pure. Virginal.
Untouched.
That’s what Oma says. If I mate, I lose my power, and that would be a tragedy for the entire pack. The gift doesn’t belong to me, it’s for the good of all the Adalwulfs. I’m just the vessel.
So I’m sheltered and protected like pack royalty, like the family jewel. But I’m also policed.
It’s wrong–terribly wrong–but as frightened as I am of taking the position of Seeress, part of me aches for the change. Any change! My life has been such a monotony of nothing but old pack lore and a century’s old rivalry.
As much as I will mourn Oma, there’s a tiny seed–a spark–of hope for my future without her.
What will life be like when I’m the one with the power to see? Can I demand more freedom?
Will I be able to leave these walls? Meet the male who appears in my dreams? The one who is silent. Stoic. Strong.
The one who can speak straight into my mind without moving his lips and who hears me without me speaking.
He’s my future, and I’m his.
The rest…the revenge and the rivalry and the hatred between packs?
I could walk away from it all and never look back.
* * *
Madi
Sleet pelts the jet as we land in New York. It seems like a month has passed since we left for the Greek isles.
Brick’s long body curls around mine, spooning me from behind. We haven’t spoken yet about what happens now.
Brick Blackthroat may be a powerful businessman, the toughest boss on Wall Street and a ruthless leader of his pack, but when it comes to matters of the heart, I’m realizing he might be an emotional avoidant. It explains why he hasn’t fixed his relationship with his mom. Why he went moon mad rather than deal with his need for me. He didn’t even try to figure out how to make it work with a human.
He still hasn’t.
Not that I’m any better. I pushed him away at every turn, so certain he would never actually commit to someone like me. I clung to my pride rather than fighting for us.
Neither of us move when the jet touches down. We had sex when we first boarded, which helped us both sleep, but we still haven’t talked. I mean the kind of talk with a capital T. The one I suspect we’re both avoiding.
“You’ll come back to my building.” His voice is gruff–the bossy boss thing that usually turns me on.
“No.” I stay facing away from him, watching the precipitate pelt the windows of the jet.
The arm draped over my waist tightens, and he pulls me closer, his body stiffening.
“I need to keep you sa–.”
“Don’t,” I cut in. “You hid me away on a private island in Greece with machine-gun carrying guards, and I still wasn’t safe. I’m not going to live my life this way.”
I actually sense the temperature in Brick’s body drop, like my words chill him.
“Madi,” he chokes.
I roll to face him. “Brick, I want to be with you, but so far, it looks like you lying, locking me up, and hiding me away.”
“I need you safe?—”
“I’m fine with being protected. I’m not fine with you shutting me out.”
Brick lies perfectly still, almost like he’s frozen.
“I understand your pack is under siege by the Adalwulfs, but I don’t want to be your hidden human. I want to be your mate. At least I think I do–but I don’t even know for certain what that means. I’m still learning your world–without any help from you, I might add.”
“Come back to my place.” He gives his head a quick shake. “To our place. You can make it yours–whatever you want. I haven’t even shown you the building.”
“No, you haven’t.” And that speaks volumes right there. “Brick, you just went to mating games in Sweden.”
“It was for show. There’s no one but you. You know that.”
“You said you would do whatever it takes to make me happy.”
“Yes, and I will.”
“I’m happy in Brooklyn.” The words must drop like a bomb because Brick flinches. “Your apartment was a prison to me. You literally locked me in there. That’s not something I’m going to forget with a little redecorating or whatever you’re suggesting.”
He holds my gaze with the intensity of a vow or swearing. “I’ll move to Brooklyn. I need you, Madi.”
I shake my head. “I need to be with my friends right now. People who aren’t ashamed of who I am. If being your mate means I’m not your equal, I want no part of it.”
He sucks in a breath.
“Brick, I need you to let me go.”
“Never,” he growls. The passion in his voice is a satisfying interrupt to his woodenness. He’s starting to lose control.
I put my hand on his chest to soothe his wolf. His chest is burning hot now. “I don’t mean forever. I mean right now.”
He catches my wrist and pulls my hand up to his face.
I curve my hand around his cheek, and my heart double-thumps at the tenderness of it. The Big Bad Boss letting me in. Showing me vulnerability. Accepting my caress. “I’m all in with you,” I whisper.
His chest quakes, like a dam of relief just broke.
“But not like this. You need to figure things out with your pack. If you can make it work with a human as a mate, I’m yours. If not…”
“I’ll work it out.” Brick’s voice is a rough croak.
I hold his gaze, showing my trust. Showing that I’m not angry. I’m just done. “Good. Let me know when you have.”
My phone, which is plugged into the charger near my feet, starts buzzing with an incoming call. Neither of us move.
Brick’s jaw works. His breath is rough. Finally, he says, “You should get that.”
“Yeah.” I reach for the phone and look at the screen. I don’t recognize the number.
But it’s time to start my new life–the old one has shattered.
I swipe to accept the call. “This is Madi.”
“Madison Evans?” An unfamiliar male voice asks.
I swear Brick’s chest grows bigger, like he’s prepared to defend me–through the invisible cellular waves–from any threat on the other side.
“Yes?”
“This is Edgar Lewis, personal counsel for Ms. Eleanor Harrington. I believe you two are acquainted?”
I glance at Brick, who can of course hear everything. “Yes.”
“Ms. Harrington suffered a stroke and is being cared for in a private wing of Mount Sinai Hospital. She would very much like to see you.”
Goosebumps run over my arms. “Oh.”
“May I send a car for you?”
Brick frowns.
“Right now?” I ask, then I’m annoyed with myself. Just because they’re rich and powerful doesn’t mean I can’t have boundaries. As I just practiced with Brick.
“Today, if possible. Ms. Harrington is quite anxious to have a conversation with you.”
“Deathbed confession,” Brick mutters, flicking a brow. “I’ll take you.”
I shake my head at him. To the attorney, I say, “I just landed from an overseas flight, but you can send a car to my residence in a couple of hours.”
“Thank you, Ms. Evans. I will have the driver call you when he arrives.” We end the call, and I stare at Brick. “You think she’s dying?”
“She thinks she’s dying.” After a pause, he says, “I’d like to go with you, Madi. You were emotional after you found out who she is to you.”
“No. Thank you, Brick, but I’m going to do this one on my own. You focus on your pack. Figure out whether I’m your official mate or not.”
“You are,” he swears.
“Make me believe it.” I scoot past him to get off the sleeping platform, and he allows me to go.
“I will Madi.” His voice is somber.
My heart is breaking.
This isn’t a break-up. This isn’t a break-up.I remind myself. This is a re-calibration. This is a chance to fix what doesn’t work.
But what if it can’t be fixed?A voice whispers in my ear, and I find my way out of the jet and into the cold, miserable New York day.
* * *
Brick
I keep myself stoic, safely depositing Madi in her apartment and ordering a security detail to guard her twenty-four/seven.
The moment I get back to my penthouse, I tear the place apart. I upend the teal corduroy sofa. Smash the glass of the framed Worhol hanging on my exposed brick wall. In the kitchen, I find crushing the metal-legged bar stools to be particularly satisfying.
Fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
My mate is in Brooklyn instead of with me. Why did I let her go?
This feels like my parents’ marriage all over again. I don’t want Madi to be my Saturday lover. Someone I steal frantic physical moments with just to keep my wolf from going mad.
I don’t even know if Madi’s offering me conjugal visits anyway.
I’m not sure what just happened. Was she issuing an ultimatum? Figure it out or we’re done?
And if we’re done, chances are good, I’m done. I marked her, which should inoculate me against moon madness, but the fact that I succumbed once makes the likelihood of going feral again much, much higher.
Of course, I had to set her free. I can’t keep her against her will. Locking her in my penthouse was my worst mistake.
No, denying she was my true mate was my worst mistake.
Hell, I’ve had too many worst mistakes with Madi to even know where they line up with each other.
I agreed because I love her, and the life I’m offering isn’t fair to her.
So my choice right now is to save myself and forsake the pack or risk a return to moon madness to keep my pack together.
* * *
Madi
A limo picks me up to take me to Mt. Sinai.
Heh. Six months ago, I’d never seen the inside of a limo. Now, it’s apparently my main form of transportation.
Oh yeah… and private jets. I need to have a conversation with Brick about carbon dioxide emissions from his jet and its effect on the environment. He needs to be doing some major off-setting.
Although, from what I saw at the Blackwood Family Foundation Ball, his family and pack do care about preserving our natural resources. Hopefully, he’s already footing the bill on some major reforestation projects around the globe.
These are the thoughts I use to distract myself from the gnawing emptiness in my chest. I may not be a wolf, but I’ve felt a strong sense of something missing since the moment Brick left my apartment.
I text Aubrey on the way to the hospital.
I’m home–I mean, back from Greece and moved back to our apartment (super long story). Right now I’m on the way to see my dear old grandmother for some kind of deathbed confession about how I’m actually a Harrington.
Aubrey calls two seconds after I hit send. “What the fuck? Are you okay?”
“Yep. I’m totally okay.” I am. “We’re just recalibrating,” I insist to convince myself as much as her. “On a scale of one to full breakup, this is a three or four.”
“What happened?”
“It’s such a long story.” And one I can’t tell my best friend, which absolutely sucks. “The short version is that I don’t feel like I’m a partner in the relationship, so I took a step back while we figure out what that looks like.”
That’s all true.
“I know Brick loves me. And I’ve finally admitted I’m in love, too. I’m also totally committed to making this work.”
“Well, that’s new.” Aubrey sounds encouraged.
“Yeah. So this isn’t me running scared this time. It’s from a position of strength. I don’t want to be a rich guy’s pampered girlfriend–that’s just not a role that’s going to work for me. I had a life before I met him. I need to have a meaningful life with him, too.”
“You want your old job back.”
My chest constricts. The loss of that job still hurts. “I don’t think so,” I say slowly. “I think I need to find another job.”
“Well, you’re still on the payroll at Moon Co–did you know that? And from the looks of it, you got a big, fat pay raise.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You got some official-looking mail from them while you were gone. One of the envelopes was ripped, so I took a peek. It was a paystub, which I thought was weird, since you said he wouldn’t give you your old job back.”
“That is weird.” I should be annoyed at Brick’s attempt to buy me, but I have to admit knowing I still have a paycheck coming in takes some of the pressure off figuring out my next steps.
“His form of an apology, maybe?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
I would never say I have a Cinderella complex, but I do feel loved by that gesture. Included, even though Brick didn’t want me to come back to work.
Is it a sign he plans to incorporate me back in at the office?
When I imagine going back to work for my Big Bad Boss, though, it doesn’t sit right. Things have changed too much. The hurt of being falsely accused and having others still believe I had something to do with the security breach is still too deep.
The limo pulls up in front of Mt. Sinai.
“Ooh, okay, I’m at the hospital now.” I wait for the limo driver to open my door. I now know how these things work.
“Yeah, what’s up with that?”
The driver opens the door and offers his hand. I take it and climb out like I’m the princess of Monaco or something.
“I don’t know. I got a call from her lawyer saying she had a stroke and requested to see me.”
“Work her for an inheritance,” Aubrey tosses in her two cents.
“As if I’d want th–”
“Don’t let pride get in the way. She fucking owes you. She owes your mom. Demand your due.”
I smile. Aubrey is always in my corner. “I have to go. Will you be home tonight?”
“I will be home. Want to watch 80’s movies?”
“Definitely. See you soon.” I end the call.
The driver points toward a man in a suit standing in the doorway of the hospital. “That’s Mr. Lewis. He will take you to Ms. Harrington’s room.”
“Oh.” A personal escort. I dust off my imaginary princess crown. “Okay, thank you.”
I follow Mr. Lewis through the maze of hallways on the fifth floor of the hospital until we get to a large private room with two walls of windows and at least two dozen giant flower arrangements sitting on every surface.
On the bed, Eleanor Harrington wears a full face of makeup, her dyed blonde hair in perfect order. Despite the effort put into her appearance, she appears frail and small in the bed. An IV runs to a port on the back of her hand, and an oxygen tube is plugged into her nostrils.
“Madison, darling.” She holds out a knotted hand.
Three men in expensive shirts and ties turn and stare at me.
My heart stops when I realize they must be her sons. One of them–Brett Harrington–is my dad.
“Who is this?” One of the men demands.
“Leave us.” Eleanor may look like a small gust of wind could carry her away, but her voice is as regal and commanding as any queen’s.
“Mother, what’s going on?” another of the men asks.
“Your mother has some legal affairs to see to,” Mr. Lewis says. “Please step out of the room, so we can conduct business.”
All three of the men eye me suspiciously. I don’t flinch. Not for one fucking second. Here I am–your bastard daughter or niece. Look your fill, gentlemen. I am just as worthy of occupying space and breathing oxygen as you are.
“But what is this about?” the first man presses.
“Get. Out!” Ms. Harrington snaps, and all three men scurry to obey her. “Madison, my dear. Please come closer,” she says after they’ve gone.
I step closer to her, conscious of remaining poised. Not to please her, but to prove to myself that no one in this family will make me feel less-than. I spent my lifetime feeling that way thanks to them. I’m done.
She peers at me. “You don’t seem confused about why you are here.”
I nod coolly. “I have unraveled the secret of my parentage.”
“So you know that you are my granddaughter.”
“Yes. My mother told me what you did.”
The old woman winces. “I am sorry for what I did to her. Back then, I thought there’s nothing I couldn’t arrange or rearrange–including the life of my only grandchild.”
“Only?”
She nods. “Thank God your mother didn’t do my bidding. She did a marvelous job raising you. So much better than I did with my sons.” She waves a gnarled hand toward the door. “They are all buffoons. Spoiled, self-absorbed idiots incapable of finding their way out of a paper bag.”
I don’t answer. One of those idiots is my father. The asshole who didn’t even acknowledge me.
As if she’s reading my mind, she says, “Brett never knew.”
My lips fall open. “Never knew…”
“Never knew you existed. He thought your mother miscarried. I know, I should have told him, but…” she trails off, her mouth tight. “I was wrong. I kept him from you. I didn’t want him to marry your mother. I’m sorry.”
It’s hard to breathe. My chest feels like a steel plate is pressing down on it.
I don’t want to forgive her. She doesn’t deserve it.
But something about the precariousness of my entire existence right now, something about sending Brick away and breaking my own heart yet again, about realizing how fucking complicated and not very black and white life is gives me a sliver of compassion.
She’s a dying woman. If she needs to get this off her chest, I will allow it.
“My mother suffered.”
“I know, my dear. I’m sorry. Edgar has already cut a check for her.” She flaps her hand in the direction of the lawyer, who holds up an envelope.
I narrow my eyes. “What are the conditions this time?”
“Ah, so bright and savvy. No conditions. I’m trying to make amends to you and her.”
I keep my face blank. Money doesn’t fix twenty-two years of spurning us, but I’m not about to refuse it, either. My mom needs that money.
“I want you to run Torrent Cosmetics.”
My eyes fly wider, and I suck in a shocked breath. “What?”
“You’re bright. Motivated. The child I always wanted to have. You’re capable of great things, Madison.”
I rub my lips together. They suddenly feel so dry. “I prefer Madi,” I find myself saying.
“Madi.”
“You—” I swallow down the lump in my throat. “You rejected me. You didn’t think I was good enough to be in your family. Now that I have a Princeton education and a job on Wall Street, I’ve proven I’m good enough?”
Eleanor’s eyes fill with tears. “I’m so sorry. I know I was wrong. I made a mistake when I found out your mom was pregnant, and then, when I learned she kept you, it felt too late to change course or tell Brett. I kept doubling down on my mistakes. I watched you from afar and pulled strings to ensure your success. But now,” –she waves a trembling hand at the monitors and IV drip bag– “I have the benefit of near death to make me realize my reign is coming to an end. I want to make amends–to correct my mistakes. And I would love to have you by my side, Madi.”
I blink back the water in my eyes. “What’s in it for me?” I ask with a humorless laugh.
“A large stake in Torrent Cosmetics now and controlling interest when I die.”
My mouth falls open. I wasn’t trying to manipulate her for money. My brain makes a few rough calculations. We’re probably talking about an inheritance exceeding a billion dollars. My net worth would be comparable to Brick’s.
This is insane. I don’t know why I feel like I might puke.
“And if I say no?” I choke out.
“It’s still yours. You’re my legacy, Madison.”
I let out a long, shaky breath.
“You might as well come and learn how to run things from me now, while I’m still alive. Otherwise, there will be a steep learning curve when you inherit the throne.”
I blink back tears although I’m not sure why I’m crying. There’s just so much emotion stuck in my chest. Pain from all the years of feeling rejected by my father and his family. Overwhelm at now being chosen as worthy. Anger warring with forgiveness.
“May I think about it?” My voice cracks.
Eleanor clasps my hand in both of hers. Her skin is dry, and her hands are cold. “Of course, my dear. It’s not a trick or a test. I’m proud of who you are, Madi, and after keeping you apart from the family all these years, now I selfishly want to know you better.” Her eyes well with tears.
I’m not sure I can say the same.
“You don’t owe me anything. We can start small. You can come to work with me, change your mind and leave. For once in my life, I’m not trying to manipulate.”
I try to swallow and fail. “What about…him?” I look out the door in the direction my sperm-donor went.
“I’m going to tell him. I don’t know how he’ll take the news.”
The floor of the room feels unstable. My skin is hot. I need to get out of here. “It’s a lot to digest, Eleanor.” I call her by her first name mostly as a sign of disrespect. Because I sure as hell won’t be calling her Grandmother. If I call her anything at all.
The old woman receives the rebuke in my voice with a steady blink of her eyes. “I know. I am sorry. I made a horrible mistake with you and your mother. I am trying to make amends before I die.”
I manage a wobbly nod and stumble backward toward the open door.
The lawyer thrusts the envelope addressed to my mother in my hand as I back out. “Take your time considering the offer,” he murmurs, as if this was a business deal not a family matter.
I flee, my stomach in a tight knot as I fast-walk down the hospital hallway.
It’s strange that my first thought is to call Brick rather than Aubrey. And that loss cuts so much more acutely than anything Eleanor Harrington has ever done to me or my family.