Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Harlow
Slap… Slap
The sound echoes somewhere deep in my mind until silence overtakes wherever I am. Now, I feel like I can keep sleeping. I deserve this rest.
… Slap …
Apparently rest is only for the fucking wicked. I don’t want to wake up. I want to keep drifting in nothingness, drifting in peace.
… Slap …
Yet, at the same time, I feel the urge to return, or more accurately, feel something forcing me to return.
“Wake up!” someone shouts from what seems like miles away. “Wake up!” The distant voice invades not only my hearing, but also my senses. My cheek feels warm as my eyes barely flutter. I don’t want to open them.
“Wake up!” I hear the distant shout again. It’s somewhat annoying, and I almost keep my eyes closed out of spite, until I feel panic through the bond. The fear is so strong I fight the urge to drift back to sleep, but the pull sucking me under is strong. Almost too strong.
That is until I feel my head whip to the side. My cheek starts burning furiously from the force of someone’s hand connecting with my face again after who knows how many times they’ve already slapped me. I hear the voice again, and this time I can recognize it as Bree’s.
“Come on, you useless piece of shit. Give her your blood! You know as well as I do that she is no good to either of us dead!” I hear Bree snap.
A loud, pained groan leaves my lips as I force my eyes open.
My vision blurs, and relief flits through the bond from my mates.
I don’t have time to examine it before I am thrust back into the nightmare I thought I escaped from.
I’m still in the car with my tormentors.
A man who stole my blood and tried to rape me, and a woman who claims she isn’t a monster but kidnapped me from my home and tore me away from my newborn daughter and mates.
Sadly, this isn’t just a bad dream. A whimper escapes me as I’m forced to abandon the hope that this was never real.
The car stops suddenly, and Bree leans closer to pry my eyelids open.
“Why isn’t she healing? Aren’t werewolves fast healers or is that just bullshit? Is it only Alphas that heal fast?” I hear Vadum’s disgusting voice echo around me.
I feel like I am floating. Like my body is about to lift into the sky and settle on a fluffy cloud.
“Oh, so smart to think of that! Maybe it’s because you took too much blood, you imbecile!
You said you just wanted a taste, but no, you had to go overboard and forget there’s this thing called limits.
She isn’t a never-ending fucking juice box!
She just had a baby, you idiot. She wouldn’t have shifted yet.
Not while she’s breastfeeding!” Bree screams at Vadum.
I don’t hear his voice or any stupid remarks, and despite the throbbing pain, I’m pretty sure my body jolts when I hear a ripping sound.
My lips are suddenly pried open, and instinct takes over.
Despite how weak I feel, I thrash as Vadum presses his bleeding wrist to my lips.
I cough and sputter, refusing his blood and spitting it out.
I don’t want it. I refuse to accept any part of that vile man inside me, even if it ends up costing me my life.
“Stop being so stubborn, Harlow! Do you want to die? You just stopped breathing a few seconds ago! Think about your daughter and drink his fucking blood!” Bree snaps at me.
She pinches my nose as Vadum forces his blood down my throat. I can feel the wound on my head closing. The pounding slowly fades, leaving behind nothing but a dull ache as my vision clears.
Bree finally lets go of me and lets out a breath of relief. How can she think it is okay to act relieved when she is the one who fucking did this to me?
Well, technically, it was Vadum, but it isn’t like she tried to stop him from sucking on me until he nearly drained me.
“She’s fine now,” Bree mutters to him. “Keep going. Corbin said he will be waiting for us near the service station. He just needs to figure out how to get off the mountain, then we can follow him from there,” she explains as Vadum gets back in the driver’s seat and starts the car.
I wiggle, sitting up higher and flexing my wrists in an attempt to loosen the ropes. Bree slowly leans back in her seat. As her eyes meet mine, she notices me watching her and shakes her head.
“Don’t look at me like that. Don’t pretend that you’re better than me. As if you wouldn’t do the same thing for one of your mates!” she snaps.
I both understand her and don’t at the same time.
I know I would do anything for my mates, that’s just a fact, but I never asked her to justify her actions.
All I can do is look at the woman who kidnapped me and claims to be my sister.
There is no way I would hurt a sister like this, even one I just learned about.
“I’m not claiming I’m better, but I would never do this,” I shake my head to emphasize my words. “I would find another way to help them,” I tell her, certain I would never stoop so low.
Bree presses her lips in a thin line and focuses her gaze out the window. As much as I want this conversation to end, I need to know more.
“What did you mean when you said that thing back at the house?” I ask her, letting my gaze focus on my own window as I try to figure out where we are. To my great disappointment, I don’t recognize my surroundings at all.
“‘I can’t help but wonder… I wonder if our mother felt any guilt when she set me in that basket and left me on Dad’s doorstep.
How could she walk away from her own child like that?
’” I repeat Bree’s words. I don’t struggle to quote them because they are burned into my memory.
Without thinking, I turn my head to look at her right as she purses her lips.
“I never understood why my father never spoke of her,” Bree says.
I tilt my head to the side, watching as her strange statement slowly sinks in.
“She left me in a basket on his doorstep and walked away. But she kept both of you,” Bree adds, and my brows furrow.
I squint my eyes as I try to read her facial expression, but she doesn’t give anything away.
“That makes no sense. Thane told me you are Curtis Black’s daughter, but I don’t remember ever seeing you at his facility,” I hum once the words leave my mouth, still raking through my memories, just in case I had seen someone resembling Bree.
She rolls her eyes at me and scoffs, crossing her arms in front of her chest.
“Yeah, that’s because I was sent away to boarding school.
Besides, I’m five years older than you,” she pauses.
“Our mother told me she couldn’t bear to look at me.
Her own daughter. Her flesh and blood. All because I resemble my father.
Her rapist,” Bree says, gazing out of the window.
Her last words come out as just a whisper, and I barely catch them.
I suck in a breath. “Harper?”
Bree closes her eyes and exhales. “Yes Harper. Your mother … She was supposed to be mine, but instead, she abandoned me … Not you two, though. She loved both of you. More than you could ever imagine … But she couldn’t love me. She couldn’t even look at me.”
A lone tear rolls down her cheek, and all I can do is stare at her. I don’t know what to say, but Bree doesn’t need my words as she keeps talking. “I just wanted to know her … To get to know both of you.”