Series: Werewolves of Wall Street Series by Renee Rose
Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 59360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59360 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 297(@200wpm)___ 237(@250wpm)___ 198(@300wpm)
Ruby sucks in a breath, holds it, then lets it out slowly, like she’s considering her words. “I think…” She glances toward the door. “I think our parents were the worst possible model for a relationship, and you’ve taken a page from their book.”
I sink onto the couch and bury my head in my hands. “I feel torn in two, Rubes. Pack versus Madi. Every move I make is wrong for one of them.”
Ruby comes and sits beside me on the couch. “Start with Mom,” she says softly.
My head jerks up, and I frown. My mom and her duplicitous loyalties are an old problem. Hardly one that is most pressing to solve right now. “I’m not sure how that will help.”
“It will,” Ruby says. “You need to clean up that mess. Once you do, I think it will be easier to see what’s required for our future.”
She hooks her hand around my elbow and stands. “Come on. I’ll go with you.”
I push back the chaos that churns behind my breastbone. I can’t go mad again. I wouldn’t be able to pull back a second time.
We take the elevator down to the fourth floor, where I installed my mother under a constant guard.
Ruby taps lightly on the door and pushes it open. The fourth floor houses four apartments, which I use as guest suites. They are decorated with the same industrial minimalism as my penthouse.
I’m shocked by the sight of the frail, older woman lying on the couch. My mom looks pale and thin. There’s yellow and green bruising on her forehead, jaw and cheekbones. Bandages wrap around her ribs and loop over one shoulder like she broke her collarbone.
“Brick,” she croaks and attempts to sit up, groaning as she swings her feet toward the floor.
“Don’t sit up.” Before I can think, I find myself crouched before her, my hand covering hers.
Her blue eyes light with that same hope and love I always see in them, only this time it hits me that it’s real.
She couldn’t fake that.
“Mom…you look awful.” I scan her broken body with horror. Shifters heal fast. If she’s still recovering days later, she must have been nearly beaten to a pulp.
As Madi tried to tell me.
The pain of being separated from her hits me anew, causing more chaos beneath my skin.
“She’s had to regrow a few ribs,” Ruby tells me, accusation in her voice.
I squeeze my mom’s hands, shocked at how much emotion I suddenly feel for her. As if the last ten years of stonewalling all feelings related to my parentage only made the pain grow and swell, and now that I’m opening the door, it pours over me like hot lava.
“Thank you–” My voice breaks, and I clear my throat. “Thank you for protecting my mate.”
My mom’s eyes fill with tears. “It’s my fault they found her there.” Bitterness shreds her throat. “They must have followed or tracked me. I told no one where I was going or why. I can only surmise I’ve been under surveillance all this time.”
Breathing feels difficult, like I’m in a hot sauna, and the air scorches my lungs. “It’s not your fault. Madi needed you, and you went to her. Your loyalty was to me and my mate.” I surprise myself as I say the words, but it becomes obvious that they’re true.
And if I admit that truth, everything in the past must rearrange to fit it. My mom would never harm her own family. She may be an Adalwulf, but she’s aligned by love with us.
My mom attempts to adjust herself to sit higher and wheezes.
I gently lift and arrange her, moving a pillow behind her back.
“Odin was making his last stand,” my mom says weakly. “Or Oma was. Their reign of power is about to end.”
“Because they will die together.” I realize suddenly that there’s no purer source of knowledge about the Adalwulfs than my mother. I’ve just never mined her for it because I didn’t trust.
She nods. “The magic bound them. But Oma is ancient–she’s sapped all the life force and sanity she can from Odin, just as she did from your grandfather. Odin will be her last alpha, though. The magic is already in place to transfer to her successor.”
“A young virgin.”
“Yes, Aster. She’s been locked away like a medieval princess her entire life, serving the old hag. She will not unduly influence your cousin. The pack leadership may actually become stable again.”
I study her. Is she hoping I won’t destroy them?
“Brick, Odin and Oma killed your father.” My mom’s hands tremble beneath mine. “I didn’t know the cigar was poisoned. They manipulated me into thinking the gift was my idea. I didn’t know. I would’ve died on my own blade before I would’ve killed my own mate.”
It’s been ten years since my father’s death, and she never said this before. But then, I haven’t let her near me. I refused to read her letters. When I have seen her–like at Thanksgiving–she was soaked with the scent of guilt and shame and regret.