Rhett
My father walked into the room. His eyes were shining with rage, not just anger, but pure, white-hot fury. I’d seen my father upset before, annoyed even, but I had never, ever seen him like this.
"Get out," he commanded. "Leave now, or I will have security throw you out."
I froze, still sitting in the chair, while my mother slowly stood with a dignity that surprised , given the circumstances. She didn’t flinch or cower. Instead, she brushed the tears from her cheeks, squared her shoulders, and looked him dead in the eye.
"Don’t be silly, Terry," she said calmly. "I’ll leave. I have no intention of staying. I only ca to save my son."
Her eyes slid past my father to the empty hallway behind him. A small, knowing smile crossed her face.
"I’m surprised your little master isn’t towing behind you," she remarked casually.
I knew instantly who she was talking about. It was Clara, my stepmother—the woman who’d replaced her.
"They’re getting a divorce!" I blurted before I could stop myself.
My father’s head whipped toward , and the glare he fixed with was absolutely poisonous, so that I actually flinched.
Before I could shrink into the chair, he strode forward and gripped my arm, dragging to my feet, intending to drag out of the room.
But my mother was faster. Her hand shot out and grabbed my other arm, holding in place.
"No. Not this ti," her voice shook. "I’ve stayed on the sidelines all these years. I let you and your family make decisions for ." Her voice had changed, and it sounded fiercer. "But I won’t anymore. I won’t stand by and watch my child destroyed by your choices. I am his mother, Terry, whether you like it or not, and I will protect him."
My father laughed dryly. "Protect him? That’s rich coming from you. After all the lies, after going against our mate bond..."
"For the billionth ti, Terry," My mother interrupted, gritting her teeth in annoyance. "I didn’t cheat on you. I told you, Grandfather put up to it, plus those pictures were fake. I loved you."
"Love?" my father scoffed. "You love , Elena and yet you choose to hurt for years. Besides, you lost that right to beco my son’s mother. Are you done selling yourself on the streets, Elena? Do you think I don’t know? Do you think I haven’t heard the rumours about where you’ve been? The jobs you’ve taken? Is business finally slow enough that you can pretend to be a mother?"
My mother’s face went pale, then flushed red with anger. "How dare you! I did what I had to do to survive after your family threw out with nothing! What was I supposed to do? Starve?"
His grip on my arm tightened, and his voice lowered to a growl. "Don’t you dare twist this back to . I was ready to cut myself off from my family for you. I was ready to give up everything. But you—" he jabbed a finger toward her "—you broke our bond. You spat on it. You lied about another man. You made believe you never loved ."
Tears welled up in my mom’s eyes, but she cleared her throat and pushed it away. "Because if I told the truth, you would have followed . And you would have starved with . You would have wasted your life chasing after an Oga who had nothing to offer but love. And love wasn’t enough for the Thatchers, was it?"
My father’s chest heaved as he stared at her for a few seconds before continuing.
"You could have stayed away!" my father roared. "You could have left us in peace instead of coming back now, when everything is finally settled!"
"Settled?" My mother’s voice rose to match his. "Our son is dying, Terry! And you call that settled?"
"He was doing fine until you showed up!"
"He was dying! He’s still dying! Don’t you understand that?"
My father took a step closer, and I could see a vein pulsing in his temple. "You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t been doing everything in my power to save him?"
"Everything except accepting help from !" my mother shot back. "Your pride is going to kill your son!"
"My pride? MY pride?" My father’s voice cracked. "You’re the one who destroyed everything! You’re the one who lied, who cheated—"
"I never cheated on you! How many tis do I have to say it?" My mother was crying now, angry tears streaming down her face. "Never! That was all your family’s doing! They faked those photos, Terry! They made it all up because they couldn’t stand having an Oga in their precious bloodline!"
"Don’t you dare bla my family for your mistakes!"
"I made one mistake—I lied about being an Oga because I loved you! That was it! Everything else, every horrible thing that happened after, that was your family’s doing!"
"You broke our bond, Elena! You told you loved soone else!"
"Because they threatened to cut off all funding for Rhett’s treatnt!" My mother’s voice broke. "Because your father told that if I didn’t leave, if I didn’t make you hate enough to let go, they would let our son die! What choice did I have?"
The room fell silent except for my mother’s ragged breathing and my father’s heavy, angry pants.
I sat there between them, watching this unfold as if I were observing a play. And the strangest thing was, I found it fascinating. My father, who never raised his voice, who never showed more than mild irritation, was riled up like a young wolf fresh from a fight. His anger was alive and raw.
He was a perfect Alpha, always dignified and composed.
I had never seen him lose control like this. Never seen him shout, or cry, or show this much emotion about anything.
It was almost funny, in a twisted way. The great Terry Thatcher, reduced to screaming in a hospital office over a woman he claid to hate.
He didn’t hate her, I realised. Not even close.
"Okay," I said, cutting through their argunt. Both of them turned to look at like they’d forgotten I was there. "Okay, you’re both making everyone incredibly uncomfortable, and honestly, this is not the place for this conversation."
"Rhett—" my father started.
"No, listen," I interrupted. "Whatever happened between you two, whatever ss you made of things twenty years ago—I have a right to know the real story. The whole story. Not the version the Thatcher family told , and not whatever half-truths you’re both throwing at each other right now."
I looked between them. "So let’s take this ho. To the pack house. We’ll sit down like civilised people, and you can both tell everything."
"Absolutely not," my father said imdiately. "She is not setting foot in my ho."
"It’s not just your ho," I said, surprised by the firmness in my own voice. "It’s mine too. And I’m inviting her. I have questions, and I want answers from both of you. Together. So we’re all going ho, and we’re going to sort this out."
My father looked like he wanted to argue, but sothing in my expression must have convinced him. He let out a long, frustrated breath.
"Fine," he bit out. "Fine. But this changes nothing."
"We’ll see about that," my mother said quietly.
***
The car ride ho was suffocating in its silence. I sat in the back seat of my father’s car while my mother followed behind in her own vehicle. My father’s hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel; his jaw was clenched so tight that I thought his teeth might crack.
I pulled out my phone and opened the group chat—the one with Charis, Slater, and Kael. My fingers hesitated over the keyboard for a mont before I started typing.
My birth mother suddenly showed up today... Everything is in chaos. I need help.
The response was almost imdiate. Slater’s ssage popped up first.
On my way. I’m coming with Charis.
After that, Kael sent a voice note. I pressed play, holding the phone to my ear.
I can’t co. I’m in the middle of dealing with urgent matters. Handle it without .
Of course. Typical Kael.
I typed back a quick thanks and pocketed my phone. At least I’d have so backup when we got ho.
When we pulled up to the pack house, I was relieved to see Slater’s car already in the driveway. He and Charis were leaning against it, clearly waiting for us. They both straightened when they saw us arrive.
My father got out of the car without a word and stalked toward the house. My mother parked behind us and got out more slowly, looking uncertain for the first ti since she’d appeared at the hospital.
I climbed out and imdiately headed for Slater and Charis. They t halfway, both of them looking concerned.
"You okay?" Slater asked, studying my face.
"I’m fine," I said, and I was surprised to realise I ant it. "Actually, I’m in a pretty good mood, all things considered."
Charis raised an eyebrow. "Your birth mother shows up out of nowhere and you’re in a good mood?"
I shrugged. "It’s been an interesting day. Plus, I think I’m finally going to get so real answers about my life. That’s worth sothing."
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