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“Don’t do this, Walker. You know my dad would never have allowed this...” Her index finger points between us and she shakes her head for extra emphasis. “Us.”
“Your dad wouldn’t have had a choice. He was an alpha. He knows what it means to find the omega who is your scent match.”
Ella laughs. Her eyes don’t match the sound. “Hardly. My mother was not his scent match.”
I swallow as I contemplate telling her the secret I’ve kept since the day her father told me he was ready to die. The day he decided enough was enough and he could no longer cope with life.
“Your birth mother was.” The words leave my mouth as I’m still thinking about and I stare at her, knowing I no longer have the chance to take them back.
Her eyes lock onto mine, then start blinking. “My birth mother?” I know there’s a question contained within that sentence.
“She died during childbirth,” I say. “She struggled to give birth to your sister, Layla.”
She shakes her head. “No.”
“Sorry.”
“But the twins... My twin sisters aren’t my full sisters,” she whispers, then shakes her head. “I don’t believe you.”
“I know it’s hard to believe, Ella, but it’s the truth,” I say, reaching out to touch her cheek. Her lower lip trembles as she processes the information, her mind surely racing with questions and doubts. “Your father asked me to keep it a secret, but I can’t bear to lie to you any longer.”
Ella’s eyes search mine for any sign of deception, but all she finds is a deep well of emotion because I know I’m going to break her heart.
“Why would he keep something like that from me?” she whispers, her voice shaking with each word.
“He wanted to protect his daughters, especially Layla. He never wanted her to feel guilty,” I reply. “Your father loved his girls more than anything in this world, and he didn’t want the truth to burden any of you. But now that he’s gone, I think it’s time you knew.”
Tears shimmer in Ella’s eyes as she struggles to come to terms with the information. The realization that her life was built on a foundation of lies.
I give her a moment to collect herself, allowing the weight of the truth to settle between us. Finally, she looks up at me; her gaze steady despite the tears that threaten to spill over.
“Know what?” Ella’s voice is filled with a sudden fear that grips my heart.
I take a deep breath, stealing myself for the pain of reliving those last moments with her father. “That he thought he failed you when you and Ava were kidnapped,” I say gently, watching as comprehension dawns in Ella’s eyes.
Tears spill down her cheeks, and her body shakes with grief at the revelation. “He wasn’t to blame,” she sobs, the words tear from her like shards of glass. “How could he have thought that?”
“Because he went back in.” I blow out a breath as I remember that day. “You being safe was his only concern. Not his life. Only yours and Ava’s. And seeing you when you came out of the warehouse turned your father’s world upside down. He was incensed.”
Tears lace her eyes, and I know she’s about to run. I pull her into a tight embrace, offering what little comfort I can.
“That’s why my father went back in. Dying never worried him...” She shivers as she holds back a gasp. “He was prepared to leave me and my sisters.”
“No, Ella, he saved you first. He only went back in because he was angry, not only with the kidnapper, but with himself.”
Her watery eyes stare at me without blinking. The truth has shattered her.
“It wasn’t your father’s failure that haunted him, Ella. It was his anger, his regret that he couldn’t save your mother. That he wasn’t with her when she died. That he couldn’t protect his daughters. He blamed himself for not being there when you needed him most,” I explain gently, as the weight of her grief lies heavy in the air.
Ella clings to me, her fingernails holding my forearms, and she tries to remain upright.
I pull her against my chest, purring around her head, trying to console her. “He loved you more than his own life, Ella. His last act was one of bravery and sacrifice, not failure.”
“But he never killed the kidnapper,” she says quietly, turmoil coating her eyes. “He died in vain.”
With a deep breath, she pulls away from me, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “I miss him so much,” she whispers, her voice strained with grief.
“I know, Ella. We all do,” I reply softly, holding her close.
