Chapter 10 - Hannah
The valley seems to respond to my troubled emotions, the air colder than it should be, the ground breathing unsteadily as if mimicking my breath.
I shiver into myself, lifting the piping hot mug of herbal tea from the coffee table, relishing in the warmth against my quivering fingers, and the calm that washes over me when I inhale deeply.
“It really is wonderful to see you back in Bitterroot, my dear,” Dorothy smiles, her gray eyes twinkling with warmth. “Even if your time away was spent learning about these new powers of yours.”
I return Dorothy’s smile before taking a sip of the tea she prepared, my chest tightening with an overwhelming emotion. Because I missed her. Because I missed our chats.
Dorothy Warsaw took me in when my parents died, and saw to it that I was clothed, fed, and loved in ways no one else in the pack ever cared to do. As an orphaned omega, I was a forgettable member of the pack. But then I grew up, and discovered I was shiftless, as if my rotten luck had no end.
But I just spent the last hour catching up with Dorothy and telling her how different my life had become when I found the coven and discovered I was actually a witch.
Dorothy is somewhat of a witch herself, though she has never seen the need to use that label. She has the ability to see things that others can’t, things they try to keep secret, and she has the ability to shift into wolf form.
Noticing the way she’s staring at me, I set the mug down and tilt my head.
“What is it, Dorothy?”
She giggles lightly. “You have grown up to be a fine young woman, Hannah. You were always very beautiful. But now, you are glowing.”
“I’m glad you seem to think so,” I giggle, but the sound is a nervous one. “I haven’t really been feeling that way lately.”
“Is it because you’re back in the valley? Or because you’re hiding who Clarissa’s father is?”
I gulp hard. I knew this moment would arrive, crashing this party of momentary peace. But it had to happen eventually, especially because I needed Dorothy’s help.
“Well…both,” I grimace. “You know, don’t you?”
“I knew the moment you set foot in my house, child. Now tell me, what is it that you need from me?”
“You just want me to spell it out to you, don’t you?”
“Of course,” she chuckles and pats the top of my hand. “What fun would there be if I knew everything?”
I sigh as I bask in the warmth of her delicate, soft fingers on my knuckles.
“I’ve been hiding Clarissa’s wolf from the coven ever since she was born.
No one knew who her father was. Now, I find that I have to keep her wolf hidden from her father.
There was a potion for it, but it was lost in last night’s fight.
I don’t know what’s in it because Sister Amalia never told me. ”
“Why are you going through all of this trouble when you can simply tell Alpha Conan?”
Shaking my head slowly, I feel panic rise like bile in my throat. “I can’t, Dorothy. I can’t tell him. And you know this.”
Dorothy nods. “There isn’t much I don’t know. Just like I knew how much you loved him. From the moment he came knocking at my door, begging me to allow you two to play together, it was love in your eyes. But then you left. You left such a profound love behind.”
“I didn’t leave it behind, Dorothy. I was banished from the pack.”
Dorothy frowns. “That’s the part I cannot quite understand. I mean, I can see it. I can see the note you found on your fridge that morning. I can see you being banished by Elder Bernard.”
“Yes, Dorothy. I was banished from the pack. All because they accused me of stealing the gem.” I pause as a tear falls from my eye.
“But I would have left anyway. I found Conan’s note.
If Elder Bernard hadn’t banished me, I probably would have left anyway.
The pain…the humiliation…do you understand now?
” I whisper, my throat tightening as more tears fall.
She shakes her head as she wraps her hand around mine. “It’s hard to understand any of this, Hannah. That’s not what I see from Conan’s side. He told me what happened, too. But the way it happened for you is not how it happened for him. He never—”
Both Dorothy and I shriek in surprise when the front door comes crashing in. Filling the doorway with darkness and fury, Conan glares at me.
“You are hiding something from me, Hannah, and I want the truth!” he roars.
My eyes widen with horror as I turn to Dorothy, but she appears equally stunned. She bows her head, sensing the alpha’s unbidden anger, ominous and powerful as he stands looming in her doorway, and she bows.
“Alpha Conan…” she whispers fearfully.
Dorothy has never had to bow to Conan. He’d always been like a son to her. She helped care for him as a young boy. And now she’s bowing respectfully.
She senses how angry he is.
I can sense it, too, coursing through my veins as if his anger is my own.
“Conan…” I shoot to my feet. “You need to calm down.”
“Don’t tell me what I need to do, Hannah. It’s you who needs to tell me the truth. Right now.”
Without another word, Dorothy slips off her chair and quietly disappears down the corridor to her cabin.
Her departure leaves me feeling unsafe, my heart hammering in my chest. Conan remains like a dark, ominous presence in the doorway, and I can’t see his eyes.
They simply appear like dark orbs of condemnation.
“Please, come inside so we can talk,” I plead, my bottom lip trembling, suspecting why he’s here, brooding with anger.
I didn’t get a solution in time. It’s too late. I’ll just have to figure out a way to deflect this.
Conan steps inside the cabin, kicking the door shut behind him, his fists curled at his sides so tightly that the veins on his forearms burst prominently.
“Talk.”
The command is spoken from a true alpha’s lips, a tongue demanding reverence and submission that it takes every ounce of inner strength to fight against. To stop myself from blurting out the truth.
I must remember that I cannot trust him. I must remember that he hurt me. That he could hurt me again if I gave him that power by becoming vulnerable again.
“I don’t know what you think, storming in here and telling me that I’m hiding something from you,” I say haughtily as I fold my arms. “I—”
“Oh, don’t give me that, Hannah.” He marches across the room with fierce, vindictive steps, his sheer size blowing a stiff breeze through the air. Or maybe it’s his powers he’s using.
I gulp hard as he towers over me, pointing a finger at my face.
“You have no right to stand here and pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about, Hannah,” he growls, his breath searingly hot as he glares at me. “I want you to say it.”
I narrow my eyes at him defiantly. “I don’t know what—”
“Hannah Young!” he grates through gritted teeth. “It’s over. You cannot lie to me anymore. That child who’s asleep in my house is mine, isn’t she? I scented her, Hannah. I’m not imagining things.”
My chest heaves uncontrollably as I face the alpha, seeing no way out except going right through it.
If I ever wanted to hurt Conan Becker as much as he’d hurt me, it’s with this right here—when he learns that he lost eight years with his daughter.
“Fine!” I throw my hands up. “You want the truth, Conan? Well, here it is: Clarissa is your daughter. There! Are you happy now?”
Conan’s face pales as he straightens up from his leaning stance, his eyes flashing with a flurry of mixed emotions.
“You lied to me…” he whispers in disbelief. “You told me her father…”
“I told you that you wouldn’t know her father,” I retorted with a scoff. “Because you wouldn’t. The man you were the night she was conceived was not the man you became the very next day.”
Conan frowns. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, I think you know exactly what I’m talking about, Conan. All your empty promises meant nothing by the time the sun came up. You took what you wanted, and then you left because none of it was true.”
Conan presses a hand to his temple. “Are you hearing yourself right now?! You’re trying to justify lying to me about my daughter because I wasn’t there the next morning?
Nothing you say can change what you did, Hannah!
You ran off with my daughter, and you still lied about it after eight years! Who the fuck are you?”
“I am who you made me become!” I snap back.
Conan takes a step forward, eyes full of pure, dark rage. He’s about to say something when he opens his mouth, but he shuts it when his eyes turn black gold.
He’s receiving a message through the mind link. A message that has him staggering backwards the second he snaps out of the daze.
“I have to go,” he says, voice horridly dark, twisted, as he points a finger at me. “We’re not done with this conversation. I suggest you go back to my house and keep watch over our daughter. There are demons on our tail.”
With that, Conan spins on his heel and storms out, shutting the door behind him with a loud thud that cues Dorothy’s arms around me.
That’s when I crumble, sobbing uncontrollably.
Conan knows Clarissa is his daughter now.
And this hits me harder than it should have when I thought I could use this to hurt him instead.
Who was I kidding?
Conan never stopped having power over my emotions.