Instead of my alarm waking me up, I felt the gentle pressure on my arm, followed by a soft voice. "Cassy dear. Time to rise." My eyes fluttered open, still heavy with sleep, to see my mother, Iris, standing beside my bed. Her familiar, kind eyes, the same striking blue as always, met mine with a warm smile. Beside her were several maids, their presence usually a flurry of activity, but today, they were still, waiting.
Anxiety started to creep in as I looked around. My mother noticed the way my shoulders tensed. She'd always had a knack for reading me. She turned to the maids, her voice calm and reassuring. "Give us a moment, please."
As the maids quietly nodded and withdrew, leaving only my mother and me in my room. A breath I hadn't realized I was holding escaped me. It was a small thing, a simple request for privacy, but it made all the difference.
After the maids left, I turned to my mother with a look of confusion, "Mom, what is going on?" My mom's blue eyes turned to me and she gave me a small smile.
"I got your father's permission to bring in extra help for the ceremony today," my mother said, and I started to tear up. "To help with makeup and hair, along with nails." I knew what kind of man Alpha David was. I'm sure it wasn't easy to ask him, much less get an answer. "Why would you do that?"
A cool breeze, carrying the scent of pine and damp earth, snaked through the open window, ruffling the thin curtains. My mother's fingers, brushed a stray lock of hair from my cheek, tucking it behind my ear. Her gaze, usually distant, locked onto mine, a mirror reflecting a deep sorrow that had settled in her eyes like dust. "I haven't been the best mother lately," she murmured, her voice a low hum against the rustle of leaves. "I'm so sorry I couldn't shield you more." A sheen of unshed tears made her irises shimmer. "After…" Her voice faltered, her gaze drifting to the open window... "After we came here, there was so little I could do. But today… today is everything." She lifted her chin, her eyes meeting mine again. A flicker of fierce determination, a spark I hadn't seen ignite in years, blazed within them. "It's our only shot at getting you out." The last words were a breath, a fragile whisper that hung in the air, a secret we both guarded fiercely.
A tremor ran through me. I hadn't realized she still saw me, truly saw me, beneath the layers of my own quiet withdrawal. My own voice was a fragile thread as I pulled my gaze away. "But Josh…" The name was a heavy stone in my throat, tears prickling at the edges of my vision. Her hand cupped my chin, her touch firm yet gentle, tilting my face back towards her. "If you choose a mate from another pack tonight," she whispered, soft and low, "he'll have no claim."
The question I'd wrestled with for months tumbled out, raw and exposed. "But what if they're worse?" I whispered. Stay here, with Josh Blackwater, or leap into the terrifying unknown? Would Josh change after marking me? Treat me better? A bitter laugh threatened to escape me. What a stupid question. I knew better.
Iris's fingers clasped mine, her grip surprisingly strong. "That's a choice only you can make, sweetie," she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners. A knowing smile touched her lips. "But," she squeezed my hands, her thumb tracing a path on my skin, "there are good men out there." A genuine smile mirrored hers. She was right. She patted my hands, her energy a sudden surge as she slid off the bed and strode to the door. "Now," she declared, her voice resonating with a renewed purpose, "let's make this the best day we've ever had."
The maids came rushing in again and hurried me off the bed. "We have manicure, pedicures, hair and makeup before tonight. We will want to get there early so you can have first pick!" My mom said enthusiastically, and I could see her old self again, the one before my father died, before David. I would make the best of this, because if I did pick a mate from another pack and they let me sit with them. I would never see her again. The thought nearly made me tear up again, but I wouldn't let it. My mother was right, I needed to get there early and look my best that way no one would turn me down.
The hours passed in a whirlwind of pampering. My skin was smoothed with a waxing treatment, my brows meticulously sculpted, and my hands and feet adorned with vibrant nail polish. The attending staff, their faces alight with satisfaction, presented me to the full length mirror, "My lady, you are simply exquisite!" exclaimed the maid with the chestnut hair, her expression radiating genuine delight. I spun to face my reflection in the expansive mirror. My abundant, raven locks had been artfully arranged, a gentle braid encircling the crown to secure half, while the remaining tresses flowed in luxuriant waves over my shoulders, kissed by soft curls. A few artfully placed tendrils framed my face, lending an air of effortless, natural bangs. My makeup was applied with a delicate touch, designed to enhance rather than mask my natural looks. A profound sense of awe washed over me as I met my own gaze in the mirror; the vision was so utterly transformed, it was difficult to recognize myself. My green eyes heighted from the makeup.
I heard a knock on the door and my mom came in after. Her hair was put up in a crown braid around her head and had a natural makeup look. She grinned big coming to stand next to me. "You look so beautiful sweetie," My mom said hugging me, "Any man will be grateful to have you." She said with a smile.
The sudden clearing of a throat ripped through the air, jolting both my mother and me. My head whipped around, the cheerful hum of our afternoon instantly snagged by a familiar, unwelcome sight. A knot tightened in my stomach. The sunlight, which had been bathing the room in a warm glow, seemed to dim.
Josh stood framed in the doorway. A slow, knowing smile spread across his face, his gaze sweeping over me, lingering. His shoulders strained the fabric of a dark blue button-up shirt, tucked neatly into sharp black slacks. Gone was the usual unruly blonde mop; his hair lay smooth and slicked back, lending his features a startlingly polished look, befitting an Alphas son. His jaw, usually dusted with a five o'clock shadow, was now clean-shaven.
A primal urge seized me, an instinct to shield myself. My fingers twitched towards the plush terrycloth of my bathrobe, the only barrier between me and his assessing stare. The flimsy tie felt suddenly inadequate.
A tremor, a barely perceptible recoil, then she was there, a shield between me and the and Josh. "Josh, dear," her voice, a delicate, strained melody, cut through the charged air. "What brings you here? Aren't you meant to be… elsewhere?" Her polite voice was paper-thin. Relief, cold and sharp, warred with a primal fear as her body obscured me. I saw the almost imperceptible tremor in her shoulders, a silent testament to her own fear.
"Just coming to collect you, Mother," Josh's voice, a low growl of impatience, scraped against my nerves. He was a predator, I knew it, and my mother's defense, though brave, was a direct challenge to him. My own blood, thick and cold, pounded in my ears. I had to act. A hand, steady despite the frantic thrumming beneath my skin, found my mother's shoulder, a silent promise of support. I sidestepped, a subtle shift that brought me into his direct line of sight. The instant his eyes locked onto mine, a sickening spark ignited within him, a predatory gleam that made my very bones ache.
"It is time to head to the venue," Josh stated, his gaze sweeping over me, dissecting me. Not even bothering to glance at Iris as he said it.
My mother's breath hitched, a tiny, almost inaudible sound. "Oh, well," she murmured, her fingers beginning to twist at the fabric of her dress, a nervous tell I knew too well. "Cassy still needs to… finish dressing." A flicker of annoyance, sharp and undisguised, creased Josh's brow.
"She isn't coming with us," Josh declared, his voice as final as a closing door. My head snapped towards my mother, a silent question in my eyes.
"But—"
His hand shot up, a swift, commanding gesture that silenced us both. "We must arrive early to greet the elders, the esteemed families. A driver will escort Cassy at a later hour." The words tumbled out, rapid-fire, a calculated maneuver to steamroll any objection.
A hollow laugh escaped my mother, brittle and false. "Oh, of course! Right then. We wouldn't want to keep your father waiting." She turned back to me, her eyes, pools of unshed tears, holding a silent plea, a desperate understanding that echoed the tremor in my own heart.
"Cassy, before I go, I got you something." She pulled out a black box from her pocket. Inside, nestled on velvet, was a necklace with a crescent moon charm, an emerald glinting at its center, all suspended from a delicate gold chain.
"Mom?" I asked. She smiled, a flicker of the woman I remembered before the fire, before everything changed. She gestured for me to lift my hair and turn around. As the cool metal settled against my skin. I felt a familiar weight, then the soft click of the clasp. "This was my mother's, and her mother's before that." My eyes widened, catching her reflection in the mirror. A pang of guilt, sharp and unexpected, pierced me. How could she have saved this, when I couldn't save… anything? "It was the only thing I was able to salvage," she said softly, her gaze meeting mine in the glass. She turned me to face her, and I saw Josh frown, his eyes fixed on the glinting emerald. My mother's fingers, trembling slightly, touched the charm, straightening it with a reverence that felt almost like a prayer. "I wore this to my mating ceremony. I hope it brings you the same luck that I had." Luck? The word felt like a cruel mockery. My stomach twisted. Leaving her felt like a betrayal of everything she stood for, everything she'd endured. But staying… staying meant condemning myself to a slow, agonizing death, and that was a fate I refused to accept. I had to choose self-preservation, a concept that felt alien and shameful when I looked at her. Small tears started to form at the corners of my eyes. My mother reached up, her fingers brushing my cheek. Her gaze held mine, a silent plea I couldn't bear to acknowledge. "I love you." The words were a soft exhale, a final surrender. Then, she turned and walked out of the room.
I knew, with a certainty that chilled me to the bone, that this was her goodbye. A choked sob escaped me. The weight of the necklace felt like a brand, a reminder of the impossible choice I needed to make. I had no idea how I was going to leave her, this woman who had given me life. But I knew, with a crushing finality, that I had to. And that knowledge was a guilt I would carry forever.
"Josh?" My mother's voice, tight with an unspoken anxiety, sliced through the air as she spun around, halfway down hall. The realization that he wasn't following.
Josh offered her a dismissive wave, "Tell Father I'll be there in a moment. I merely wish to have a word with Cassy." My own breath hitched as I fought to maintain a mask of indifference, a futile attempt to shield the tremor that ran through me. Her eyes, sharp and assessing, met mine for a fleeting instant, and I gave a barely perceptible shake of my head, letting her know not to get involved. I saw the tension drain from her shoulders as she let out a shaky sigh, her footsteps receding.