Chapter 7 #2
Bar’s eyes narrowed, and then he inhaled. “You don’t want to battle me. If we break anything, the mistress will be most displeased.”
I did a quick study of the room I’d not been allowed to enter, except for a few times as a child, and snorted.
The furniture screamed money, but none of it was original.
I wasn’t sure how I knew it was expensive, but an inherent knowledge said it was.
Lifting my shoulders, I stood behind a tall chair.
“I will not submit to you. I have a mate.”
“Your mate is dead,” he growled.
To my right, the fireplace I’d always imagined hanging a stocking beside stood. To my left was the large picture window, with its garish coverings. My only exit. A painful one if I were to launch myself through it. Stay and fight, banged at my skull from my wolf.
The giant of a man stepped closer. His entire form seemed to be bulging with muscles. Every inch of him screamed danger, from the sharp teeth of his wolf to the flashing eyes of the beast gone mad.
I decided I’d try to reason with him. “Truly, I’m no good as a plaything. I fight back and bite.” I snapped my teeth together. My human canines were obviously not nearly as impressive.
Just before he could reach for me, I sidestepped, his massive arms missing me by inches. I used my smaller size to outmaneuver him. Goddess, if he got his hands on me, I’d be in trouble.
“Ah, I see you are still too slow to catch your prey.” Bianca sauntered in. Bar growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “You said I could play with her.”
Nodding, Bianca crossed to him. “After I take her to see mother, I’ll let you have what’s left of her.”
That so didn’t sound promising. Well, I had news for them—I was not going to roll over and show them my belly.
Bianca reached out to snag my arm, but I jerked away. “I will come willingly,” I snarled, a little of my wolf coming to the surface.
“Interesting.”
“Stay calm, love. I am coming for you.” Slater’s deep rumble soothed me as nothing else could.
“Fine, let’s go. Make no mistake,” she snarled, glaring down at me with all her teeth. “I’ll gladly knock you out and have Bar carry you up. Imagine all the things he will gladly do to your sleeping form.”
Do not let her see you tremble.
We climbed the stairs, the same ones I’d once tiptoed down as a child. My throat clogged with emotion. On the third level, the one where my parents’ room had been, we stopped. I worked to pretend the place didn’t affect me.
“This place is huge. Like, seriously, big. Out in Cali, it would cost you a mint.” I looked left and right, pretending to be enthralled.
“She will know if you are a close relative or not.”
Who this mysterious woman was, I had no clue, but the closer we got to the main bedroom, the deeper doom settled in my gut. The door was the same as when my parents lived there. The large, curved wood would be too thick for them to hear my screams from the floor above, if they cared.
The ornate door handle turned. The quiet snick seemed overly loud to my ears. I forced myself to breathe in and out. Crap, I hoped they couldn’t hear my knees shaking.
Inside, my gaze went to the bed, then drifted around the room, taking in the changes. My mother had kept the family’s dark, heavy furniture, handed down through the centuries. Now, the feminine pieces looked too small for the big room. Insubstantial, except for the woman propped up in the bed.
It took all my will to keep from gasping at the crone—the old woman who’d made my life a living hell.
Only she didn’t look quite as old as I remembered.
But her scent. I would never forget the way the woman smelled.
To this day, I couldn’t stand the scent of oranges.
The very sight or smell of them made me gag.
“Bring her closer, Bianca dear.” The woman motioned with her hand. The hand didn’t look quite as wrinkled as I remembered, either.
“You look just like RozLee,” she gasped. “What is your name?” she demanded.
Licking my suddenly dry lips, I opened my mouth, then closed it. “LeeLee O’Neil.” I used Slater’s last name. As his mate, it seemed fitting.
A hand snaked out, grabbing the front of my shirt, bringing me closer to her face. “Who are your parents?”
“My father is Rasmund Masters.” He was the man who raised me, cared for me, and made sure I had a place to belong for the last twenty years.
“You lie. I can smell the Mikosay on you. In you. You are Mikosay.”
Tired of being forced to breathe in the scent of the woman, I pushed away. “I am not. I grew up in the Cascades. I will give you names and numbers.” I’d kill the old bitch where she lay if she thought to harm anyone from my pack. Cammie and her child were my pack, along with her husband, Keanu.
“Either you are a really good liar, or you tell the truth.” The old woman fell back against the pillows. “I told you that little bitch had bright red hair. There is no way that child and this woman could be the same.”
“We will find another way then. She clearly has some of the family blood. We can still use her,” Bianca said.
“Yes, we will try, but if not, you will be my replacement.” The woman smiled. The grim pull of her lips did nothing to soothe me.
“Are you needing a blood donation?” Yeah, I knew it was so much more sinister than that.
The woman tossed back the covers. “You’re just as stupid as she was.” She barked out a laugh.
That was when I knew I was looking at Greta.
The old crone had somehow lived and was younger than the eighty-plus years she’d been twenty years ago.
Taking a closer look, I’d guess the woman to be around sixty, give or take a few—not closer to a hundred as she should’ve been.
What had the woman traded? When had she given birth to a child, and who was Bianca’s father?
“Do you need help dressing mother?”
“I think I can do that by myself. Besides, it’s almost midnight.
You need to get our girl to the hall for the ceremony.
I’ll meet you there.” Greta picked up a glass from the side table, launching it across the room without moving a muscle toward Bianca.
“I am not dead yet, and you’d be best to remember that, child. ”
Shivers stole down my spine. “I love the smell of fear.” Greta moved around the bed. Her body was not as stooped as the crone’s had been. “You will make a wonderful surprise for our pack tonight. Go on. I’ll meet you there, Bianca. And don’t disappoint me,” her voice held a subtle warning.
They opened the door to find Bar, along with two other shifters, standing there. “Looks like Alaric has received a reprieve this year,” she sneered at a blond man who looked similar to the one who’d been speaking in front of the crowd earlier.
“Pretty sure he wasn’t worried.” The blond man spoke without looking at Bianca as we passed. Bianca shoved at his chest, grunting when he didn’t move. “One day you will bow down to me.”
One side of his lips quirked up. “I’m to escort you to the hall.”
Claws dug into my forearm, causing me to cry out. “Oh, for pity’s sake.” Bianca loosened her hold. “Move it, or I’ll toss you to the wolves.”
“Where is Mitch?” Bar asked. Bianca shrugged. “I told him to watch over our other prisoner. I’m sure he’ll meet us at the hall.”
We went down the back hall. Familiar with these walkways, I ran my hand along the walls.
Once we hit the outside, small lights lit a pathway through the field.
My feet stopped moving. The last time I’d made this trek, it had been after seeing my mother kill herself.
I still woke from sleep feeling the blood of my pack coating my body.
The reality of who these people were had hit me like a sledgehammer. Greta had to have always plotted to kill them. But why did she need a ceremony and blood?
“Bar, if she won’t move, carry her.” Bianca tossed over her shoulder.
Not wanting the beast’s hands on me, I began moving on wooden legs. The closer I got to the hall, the more I could remember the metallic scent, the sticky feel of blood coating me.
“I am with you, and we are not alone, LeeLee. Focus on me and my love. Stay strong.” Slater’s deep voice grounded me.
I could do this. No, I would do this. I survived a horror, but many had survived worse. I would not crumble.
Inside the grand space, they had added more fairy lights.
The occupants were all dressed in their finery.
Music was playing, and many were dancing.
The main table was set at the front, as was custom, I assumed, since I’d never actually been allowed to attend.
My eyes darted to the men and women seated there, and I swore my heart stopped beating.
The woman, laughing with her arm wrapped around the alpha... looked just like my mother. She looked just like me, except for her eyes. Like a magnet, I moved through the dancing bodies. The tinkling laugh that I hadn’t heard in years. Not since I’d been a child and never aimed at me.
Anger and hurt poured through my veins. I found myself standing in front of the elegantly decorated table, waiting for them to notice me. Always waiting for the woman who birthed me to notice her only child.
The alpha noticed me first, his smile freezing on his face. “Who are you?”
I didn’t give him the respect due an alpha once I noticed the female next to him. I tried to make myself stop staring, but my gaze was fixed on RozLee.
“Hello, mother.”
The silence that followed my announcement was almost deafening.
“I’m sorry, but do I know you?” RozLee looked stricken.
The pain those words would normally have caused was missing. For six years, I’d vied for my mother’s attention. Wanted her love, yet never even received a good night kiss. Now, twenty years later, I had no illusions. What I didn’t understand was how she lived.