Rejected and Claimed by her Alpha Triplets Chapter 270 - I survived

270

~Lisa’s POV

I stood up slowly, my legs feeling weak. I had no idea that night had co. My heart was pounding in my chest as everything Lira told played over and over in my head, my mother, my father, my brother, the war, the coven... everything. My throat felt dry, and my hands were shaking.

"I don’t know what to do next," I whispered, staring at the floor. My voice ca out small, almost like a child’s. "But first... I want to et her. I want to see my mother."

Lira looked up at quietly, and then her lips curved into a small, sad smile. "That’s fine, child," she said softly. "It’s ti you t her properly."

Her calmness broke even more. Tears I’d been holding back started to burn behind my eyes. I tried to blink them away, but it was no use. I didn’t even know my mother’s face, and now I was going to et her as bones in the ground.

Lira walked across the room to an old wooden chest in the corner. The wood creaked as she opened it, and a cloud of dust rose into the air. She reached inside and pulled out an old brown bag that looked like it had lived a hundred years. She handled it gently, as if it might fall apart in her hands.

"This," she said quietly, walking back to , "is the last thing I have of your mother."

She opened the bag slowly and pulled out a small wrapped cloth. Inside it was an old portrait. The edges were worn, and the colors were fading, but I could still see the lines of the painting clearly.

"Your father drew this for her," Lira said, her voice soft and trembling. "He wanted to capture her smile before the world took her away."

She handed it to carefully, as if she were handing over her own heart. My hands shook as I took it.

I swallowed hard and opened the wrapping fully. The painting was old, yes, but still beautiful. My eyes widened, and for a long mont, I couldn’t speak.

The woman in the painting had soft eyes, a gentle smile, and a calm strength that shone even through the faded colors. Her hair fell in waves around her face, and her lips curved slightly like she was about to laugh.

My breath caught.

"She..." I whispered, my voice breaking. "She looks like ."

Lira nodded, smiling through her tears. "Exactly like you," she said. "You carry her face, her smile, her eyes. Even the way you tilt your head when you’re curious, it’s her."

I touched the edge of the portrait with trembling fingers. The paper felt rough beneath my skin, but I could almost feel warmth coming from it, like it carried a piece of her soul.

"She’s beautiful," I whispered.

"She was," Lira said quietly. "And kind. Too kind for the world we lived in."

I tried to hold my tears, but they slipped out anyway, falling onto the edge of the painting. "I never even got to et her," I said softly. "Not once. I didn’t even know her na until today."

Lira ca closer and placed her hand gently on my shoulder. "Now you do," she said. "And she knows you too. I’m sure she’s been waiting for you all this ti."

I bit my lip, clutching the painting to my chest. I didn’t want to let go of it. It felt like if I did, I’d lose her all over again.

Then I rembered the old bag I had been carrying since last night.

"I have sothing too," I said softly.

Lira looked at curiously. "Sothing?"

I nodded and opened the old bag. The sll of earth and ti ca out first. Inside were a few small objects, an old hair ribbon, a broken charm, and a piece of fabric stained with blood. My heart ached at the sight.

Lira gasped when she saw them. Her hands flew to her mouth.

"Where did you find these?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"They were kept by my father," I said slowly.

She reached out, her hands shaking as she took the bag from . Her eyes filled with tears as she looked inside. She touched the ribbon gently, almost reverently.

"These..." she said, her voice cracking, "these were hers. Silva’s. I rember this ribbon. I helped her tie it into her hair the day before..." Her voice trailed off.

I watched her closely, my heart breaking all over again as tears ran down her wrinkled cheeks.

Lira sat down slowly, clutching the blood-stained cloth to her chest. "This was what she wore when she ran. I never thought I’d see it again," she whispered.

The room went quiet.

I opened the portrait again and stared at it. The tears ca harder this ti. I didn’t even try to stop them. I cried for her, for my mother who had loved and lost, who had given up everything for love, and for .

Lira ca close and gently wiped my tears with her hand. "Don’t cry too much, child," she said softly. "Your mother wouldn’t want that."

I couldn’t even answer. My throat was too tight.

She smiled faintly and took my hand. "Co," she said. "It’s ti you saw her resting place."

We walked quietly through the small wooden door at the back of the cottage. The night air was cool, and the scent of pine and old earth surrounded us. The moon was high, glowing pale silver above the trees.

We walked down a narrow path covered with fallen leaves until we reached a small clearing. There, under a tall oak tree, was a simple stone. Moss had grown around it, and wildflowers surrounded its base.

Lira stopped a few steps away and let go of my hand. "That’s her," she whispered.

I stood frozen for a mont. My chest felt tight, my breath shallow. I wanted to move, but my legs didn’t want to listen.

Finally, I took a slow step forward. Then another.

The closer I got, the more real it beca. The stone wasn’t just a mark, it was my mother’s tomb. The woman I never knew, but whose blood ran in .

I knelt slowly before it, my hands trembling as I brushed the moss away from the stone. The na carved there was faint, almost worn away by ti, but still there.

Silva.

I traced the letters with my fingers, and tears rolled down my face again. "Hi, Mother," I whispered, my voice breaking. "It’s ... Lisa."

The night air felt still, almost like the world was listening.

"I don’t know if you can hear ," I continued softly, "but I found you. I finally found you."

My vision blurred with tears. "They told you were brave. That you were kind. That you gave up everything for love. I wish I could’ve t you. I wish you could’ve held ."

I pressed my forehead to the stone, and the coldness seeped into my skin. "I hope you know I’m okay," I whispered. "I survived. I tried to be strong, even when I didn’t understand why everything hurt so much."

Behind , I heard Lira’s soft voice. "She’s proud of you, Lisa. I know she is."

I turned slightly, wiping my eyes. "I just... I wish I could stay with her a little while."

Lira nodded. "Of course. Take all the ti you need."

She stepped back quietly and stood under the oak tree, giving space. The wind moved gently through the leaves, and the night seed to hum softly around .