Page 19

My subconscious screams the name at me. Over and over, and suddenly I feel like I am being thrown down the rabbit hole, falling and falling. The face, the name, the voice all fading quickly, like water takes away the soap on the dish.

And when I hit the ground, it is surprisingly soft, the beeping of machines around me a slow, steady hum. My eyes open and I am surrounded by such jarring white.

For a moment, I am disoriented by the sharp scent of chemicals and bleach, my brain trying to recollect why I expected it to smell earthy, floral and spicy.

The memory slips from me faster than water runs through one's fingers, and I sob, grasping for it.

Trying to understand why all I feel is a deep heartache and a rage that burns so deeply, I can barely breathe.

I sit up, feeling an odd burn at my fingers. I peer down, glancing at the sheets and my heart stops for a moment when I see them shredded, like they had been ripped by claws.

But my fingers are perfectly fine, and my heart feels like it's on an unstoppable gallop.

Just then, the door swings open and Soren walks in. He's in the same clothes as the last time I saw him. The time he'd all but yelled his feelings in my face. Feelings I cannot accept right now. Or ever.

"Sera," he says in a manner that is both a plea and a prayer.

I ignore it. I don't know what it means.

How could he only care about me? People rarely ever cared about me.

I have carved my way through life alone.

There were only two kinds of people out there.

The ones who took advantage of people and the ones waiting for the perfect opportunity to.

There is no kindness out there. It is much easier to believe that everything Soren has done is for his gain than to believe that he genuinely cares about me.

"Where is Landon?" I ask. I no longer hurt, but I feel exhausted. My body feels like my blood has been replaced with pints of lead.

He leans against the door. "With Lilia. She seems to calm him better than I can.

You will be discharged in a few hours." His eyes rove over me in search of something.

I don't know what. I don't care. I am angry and resentful, and I don't remember why.

There is only one person present to pour it all on, only one person I know can handle it, and he is staring at me like he knows. Like he is waiting.

"How long was I out?" I ask him. My voice doesn't feel like mine. It is raspy and snappy.

His fingers clench and unfurl at his sides, like they always do right before he gives into the urge to touch me. But he must decide otherwise because he averts his gaze. "Two days."

I do not need to ask to know he's been here the entire time. The dark circles under his eyes tell me as much. "How do you feel?"

I look pointedly at the few drops of blood staining the gown. Someone must have helped me out of the ruined gown, bathed and clothed me. Lilia, probably.

"Fine," I say.

I can tell he wants to ask more, but my short response stopped that."Okay. Then there's someone here to see you."

And he storms out, shoulders tight.

I only have a moment to arrange the covers around my thighs before the door swings open again. I pause when Alpha Baldwin walks in with another man I don't recognize.

The last I saw him was at a function a couple of months ago. We haven't spoken much since the last Summit, but whenever we do run into each other, he always manages to wring a smile out of me with his weird dad jokes and skittish laughter.

Still, I don't understand why he would make a trip all the way here.

"He is a beautiful boy," he says in a manner of congratulations, his shoes near silent as he crosses the room in slow strides.

"Thank you."

Baldwin stops by my side, his blue eyes dropping to the shredded sheets for a second before returning to mine. The man he'd come in with remains by the door, regarding me with a scowl that mars his handsome face. If I had to take a wild guess, I'd say he was in his late twenties.

"I don't believe you've met Quinn," Baldwin inserts when he notices my stare. "My first son. Your brother."

I blink. "My brother?"

The man named Quinn sneers this time, hatred gleaming in his eyes. "Don't look so surprised. Your mother never did know how to close her legs. From the heinous sight outside, I can tell you picked up that trait, too."

My fingers tremble. I thought I had felt rage before.

No. I barely hear Baldwin snap at the male.

Neither do I hear the forced apology he utters to me.

My feet hit the floor and all I remember is the coolness of the marble against my foot before my fist connects with his face.

"You insult my mother or my son again and I will end you. "

His eyes are wide, angry. Blood pours from his nose down his black Armani suit, staining his slate grey shirt. He clutches his nose and calls me a bitch before storming out and slamming the door against my face.

I whirl, glaring at Baldwin. "You might want to repeat what you just said."

"I didn't know." There is a quiet desperation on his face and he suddenly looks as old as the many gray hairs on his head. "Ceri and I...we met late. Much too late if I care to admit. I was married with one kid and another on the way and I ran into her at the Café."

His lips pull up in that smile I'd always considered familiar and I feel nothing but horror at the realization that it is my smile.

"She was beautiful. Vibrant and awfully lewd.

Ceri was...a crazy woman. The good kind," he amends quickly before continuing into a story that makes me ill to my stomach.

"It began as an unintentional fling. Moira and I fought all the time.

It was an arranged marriage. She was the Head Alpha's daughter and he had no sons.

Marrying her elevated my status and she reminded me of it every day.

That I could never measure up to the seat she gave me. "

Baldwin grimaces and settles into the chair beside the bed.

"It's no excuse, but I was in a dark place.

Perhaps, that is why I was so drawn to Ceri.

She laughed carelessly, flirted like every second was her dying breath.

She offered me a couple of drinks and sat with me.

The first time was a mistake. We were both drunk.

The nights that followed, sadly, were not.

"We saw each other for a year. And then, I never saw her again."

I breathe the word before quite thinking it. "Bullshit. You abandoned her."

I wave my hands in front of me. "This? We are not doing this. I have no idea what you hope to gain from this, but I don't have a father and I like it that way."

He stands and grimaces again. "Abandoned Ceri?

I was willing to leave my place, my titles, my wife for her.

I was going to and she knew this because I proposed.

She agreed and then vanished the day after.

I thought she'd left me. I searched for years and couldn't find her.

I thought she didn't want to be found. A year ago, I found out that—" His mouth tightens and he sinks his head in shame.

"Moira had created a situation. A vile one that made Ceri flee. "

I don't want to ask, but I didn't know I wished to know the truth until now. What could possibly have happened that broke my mother's mind. "What happened?"

His eyes scare me as he says, "You would be better off not knowing, child."

I think of mother, the longing as she called after him, the ring she had told me was a gift from someone special. I shake my head and suddenly need the support of the wall to stay upright.

"You should rest?—"

"I will. The moment you are gone from here.

" The grief is rising again and I hate it.

I hate the tears lining my eyes. I hate looking weak in front of this stranger.

"I don't care who you think you are. I don't care if you knew I existed or not.

For me, you never did, and I am not open to changing that. "

Baldwin looks torn. Forlorn. "I understand that you may think that now. But you will come to understand soon enough that ignoring the problem doesn't make it stop existing. My home is yours, Seraphina. I would be happy to receive you. To know you?—"

"Soren is my home. The Glacial Pack is my home," I say, voice sharp. "And you are not my father."

It isn't until he leaves that I realize what I said.

Soren is my home.