Three Fated Hearts by LNC

I stand in front of the door of my childhood home, memories rushing back to me. It's always hard to come here because, growing up, this house was just not warm. There was love here, not love that included me. My mom loved me as much as any mom could love their child, but that love tended to be stifled by my dad. He only had eyes for my sisters and often tried to keep my mom from focusing on me. She did what she could whenever she was able, but there were many times that she had to pretend as if. She had to pretend as if my pain wasn't important, as if my feelings didn't matter, as if I was less than a member of this family.

If I hadn't had Mark and Lynn, along with their parents, I'm not sure how I would have gotten through. When my mom couldn't be a mom to me, I would go to their home. I was like the second daughter to them, their third child. I loved every moment that I spent in that house and the love that they showed me.

I'm sure many would wonder why I didn't just move into their home when I graduated high school. If I was such a part of their family, why didn't I join them officially? To be honest, I did consider doing just that, but I never followed through. I didn't want there to be any more tension in this pack surrounding me. The truth of the matter is that showing interest in me caused tension in the ranks. Since my dad is the head warrior, he always works closely with the ranked members. My dad would be hateful toward anyone who showed me any interest, including Beta John and his family. I felt it would be better to break away from the pack so everyone could live comfortably. My decision hurt Mark and Lynn, but they understood.

I gather my courage and knock on the door, holding my breath. I know my mates said mom should be here alone, but you never know. I wait impatiently, shifting from foot to foot. I hope mom is here and I don't have to search the packhouse for her. I finally hear rustling behind the door and the click of the knob. The door opens slightly, and I can see darkness on the other side. My mom's head pops through and gives me a solemn look.

I don't say anything; I take in her appearance. She has dark circles around her eyes and looks a bit ashen. Her lips look dry, and her clothing is disheveled. Mom steps back and opens the door wider. I cautiously walk into the house, taking in the dark room. There are no lights on and no curtains open. I step to the side and allow mom to close the door. She takes a few awkward steps until she is standing in front of me.

Mom starts to wring her hands and looks around the room, taking care not to catch my eye. I don't really know where to start or what to say. I'm hurt by the fact that mom canceled on me, but this wouldn't be the first time. In the past, when we did things like this, important bonding things, it was often when my dad was distracted or away. We had to be loving mom and daughter silently in most cases. I never understood why, but I never asked either. I always took, for a fact, that my mother loved me unconditionally and left it at that.

“Mom, I-"

“I'm sor-" We both try to talk at the same time and quickly stop. I chuckle uncomfortably, not understanding why this is so awkward. I walk to the living room and have a seat on the couch. I notice a glass filled with an amber liquid on the coffee table, but I don't comment on it. Mom follows me into the room and sits in an armchair.

"You met your fated mate? What happened? Why aren“t you with him?” My laughs a bit.

"I chose your father. We had a family and I couldn't ignore that. Besides, my fated mate had a family of his own. We decided to stay in our present lives and reject each other. While I was there, I felt sick and when I went to the clinic, I found out I was pregnant. When I came back and told your father, he was angry. He accused me of sleeping with my fated mate and swore the baby was his. I denied it, telling him that if we had slept together, he would have felt it. I got a DNA test when you were born and showed him that you were his, but that didn’t change anything. He never paid you much attention, always doting on your sisters. I honestly think he believes that I had the test results altered. He doesn't truly believe that you are his child.”

"Why didn’t you tell me that you and dad were chosen mates?” Mom shrugs her shoulders.

“I didn’t think it mattered. We chose each other and love each other. There was no reason to tell anyone the truth.” I nod and say nothing. Mom continues to stroke my hand, and we sit in silence for a while.

“We have to tell the twins. He can't get away with this.” Mom shakes her head; fear flashes across her face.

"You can't tell your mates that what your dad did. They will have him locked up. He's the head warrior, and that would be bad. This is the worse thing he has done to me, but I don’t want to make it a thing. I know he was wrong, but I love your father.” Dad has always had a bad temper, and there has always been a lot of yelling in the house. He would get angry and break things, and yell at people. The most he would do, physically, is slap you or punch a hole in the wall by your head. None of that is okay, but it happened so rarely that we all just dealt with it. By us all, of course, I mean just my mom and me. He never lost his temper with my sisters. Dad stabbing mom in the hand is worse than he has ever done before.

I take my mom's hand in mind and rub it, checking it over. “Are you okay?"

"Yes, it healed a couple of hours ago. You don't need to worry about my hand.”

“Mom, you can't stay here. You have to come with me. I know you don’t want me to tell my mates, but I can't let you stay here. Please, tell me you will come with me.” My eyes are pleading with my mom. She sighs and nods her head.

“Let me get some things together and we can go.” I watch her walk out of the room. I don’t know how I will explain to Lincoln and Landon without telling them what happened. I have to figure out how to keep mom safe without blowing things up.

Mom returns to the living room with a bag in her hand. I stand up and hold my hand out to her. Mom takes my hand, and we head to the front door. Before I can open the door, it opens in front of me, and I step back in shock. Aida stands at the door looking between mom and me. She notices the bag in mom's hand and looks up at her. “Where are you going?”