My mother ushers her toward the door, and the twins and I move to follow them. “Hold on, you three,” my father directs. “Let them wait. In the meantime, Jeremy and Justin, gather the leads and a couple of guards. I hope Anders arrives in time.”
Justin and Jeremy take their leave without question. On the other hand, I raise my eyebrow at my father in question.
After everyone else leaves, he says, “I don’t have a good feeling about this. Jessica is on edge, and those assholes are up to something.”
Chapter 16
Mothers Know Best
JESSICA
TWO WEEKS AGO:
March 14, 2025: 12:20 p.m.
Alpha Kings Mansion
My mother helps me decide on an outfit—a long sleeve button-down pale blue blouse with a collar and black capris. I pair the clothing with my favorite pair of chucks, instead of the black flats she placed near the bed. I smile as she shakes her head.
It’s an unspoken compromise. As much as I would prefer to stay in my comfortable sweats and flannel, I can’t face the Alpha of the second territory looking like a teenager who just stumbled out of bed.
The expression on my mother’s face shifts as she contemplates what to say.
I take a seat at my vanity table and apply a little makeup. My mother brushes my tangled hair. It’s been a while since I had it cut or styled. I tend to keep it in a bun or a ponytail. Otherwise,it’s all over the place. Occasionally, I color it to mask the pale shade with a darker blonde, sometimes brown. I just did it a few days ago, but when I shift, it reverts to my original color. Well, I certainly don’t have time now.
I rarely let anyone see my natural hair color because the paleness sticks out like a sore thumb, especially against my tan skin. Most women, and men, with fair hair also have fair skin. But for some reason, my complexion is darker. The darker my skin, the more my hair seems to glow in comparison. Many women pay top dollar at the spray tan booths for a natural skin tone like mine. What a waste of time and money. It’s easier to hide scars with fair skin.
I rest my foundation brush on my vanity and reach into my jewelry box for a choker to hide the scar on my throat. Ean has the one I wore earlier—my favorite. I handed it to him when I decided to shift and run, instead of ride in the car with Anders for another two hours.
I sigh and catch my mother’s green eyes watching me in the mirror. She finally breaks the silence between us. “I’m sorry that your father and I didn’t tell you about Anders and Alpha Agnus. Together, we decided that we would let Anders tell you when he felt the time was right.”
I stare at my jewelry box. “I just don’t understand why he would wait, and even then, he couldn’t tell me when we were alone in the car on the way to the funeral.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. “I understand why you are upset, but I also understand why he had a hard time. It’s not an easy position for either of you.”
I try to shake my head, but she has my hair in a vise grip to finish a French twist. “He should have told me?—”
My mother snaps her eyes to mine in the mirror, causing me to stop in the middle of what I am going to say. “What difference would it have made if he told you today or eight yearsago? Would this knowledge change your relationship with your father and me? With the twins? Would it have changed your relationship with Alpha Agnus?”
I frown. If I had known sooner that Anders was my biological father, would it have changed anything? Would it have changed me? Would it have changed the relationships I developed over the years?
Chapter 17
Making A Good Impression
JESSICA
EIGHT YEARS AGO:
May 18, 2016: 5:30 p.m.
Whitemore Plantation
I’m almost done with the final touches for dinner when Miller arrives. He doesn’t knock but just walks in through the kitchen door. I hear his footsteps and recognized his smell.
He looks at me and smiles. “Smells delicious. I can’t wait to try it.” I smile back and nod as I make a place for him at the table. He then makes his way to the living area, where Agnus sits reading in a recliner with a crocheted blanket over her lap.
Agnus says loudly, “Miller, help me out of this death trap. I’ve been sitting in this chair for hours, and I can’t seem to get myself out of it.”
