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“Theo is my heir,” my father asserts, clinging to his skewed perception of familial rights.
I can’t help but let out a laugh, the absurdity of his claim resonating through the room. His scowl only deepens. “And what would I be, father?” I challenge him.
“Oh, we both know you hate it here,” he retorts dismissively. “Tell me, is Theo an alpha?”
My mother remains silent, a master of the art of patience, sipping her tea and letting my father’s frustration mount. His scent turns acrid with irritation, filling the room with the smell of his impatience.
“Is he?” he presses, his voice rising in urgency.
“No,” she answers, her voice calm and measured.
“What do you mean, no?” He leans forward on the dining cart in disbelief, nearly causing a clatter. Catching himself before he spills his tea, he sits back, trying to regain some semblance of control. With forced calmness, he lifts his cup and downs the rest of his tea in one long gulp.
By the Fates.
I fix my eyes on him, watching every subtle reaction, every flicker of emotion. The room is thick with tension, the air almost tangible with the weight of unspoken truths and hidden agendas.
In this game of power and secrets, my father is a man scrambling to hold on to a crumbling façade of control, but the dynamics have shifted, and the truth is clear to all but him. He is no longer the puppet master he believes himself to be.
As he sets his empty cup down, I see the momentary flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. It’s a fleeting glimpse into the vulnerability he’s always hidden behind a mask of authority and dominance.
Shaking off my shock, I answer for my mother. “Father, not every child sired by an alpha becomes an alpha.”
“That’s ridiculous. Every man in your pack is an alpha, and you are an omega. I chose each of you for your genetics,” he blabbers on, showing just what kind of person he is. “I don’t believe you.”
“Theo’s sire is Sven.” My mother hides her smile behind her teacup.
“Who the fuck is Sven?” My father’s outrage lashes around the room.
“Sven is my mate,” she reveals with an unflappable demeanor.
My mother’s revelation sends shockwaves through the room, but it’s her composure that truly stands out. As my father rages, demanding to know who Sven is, she remains the epitome of calmness, her control unshaken.
“Impossible,” my father scoffs, his disbelief palpable, but the sweat beginning to form on his brow and the way he fumbles with his tie betray his growing unease—actions so out of character for a man who prizes appearances above all.
My mother leans forward, her voice steady and clear. “Did you know that everything the council stated as fact is actually wrong? A fully formed pack can find another scent match and choose to join that pack.”
My father seems to choke on his own indignation, ripping off his tie in a moment of uncharacteristic disarray. My mother’s face lights up with a smile, one that’s both genuine and free, a stark contrast to the man unraveling before us.
“Sven is a delta,” she adds softly, her words like the final nail in the coffin of my father’s delusions. “Theo is a delta.”
His reaction is a mixture of disbelief and outrage, as if she has tarnished his legacy, but the sad truth is, he’s been the architect of his own downfall all along.
“What have you done to me?” he exclaims in horror, his actions growing erratic as he knocks over the dining cart. The sugarplum scatters across the floor, but my mother calmly sips her tea as the cart crashes, taking my father down with it.
I sit here, watching my father’s world crumble around him. The man who once loomed large and formidable in my life, unyielding in his authority, now lies as a pitiable figure on the floor, undone by his own schemes.
At this moment, I realize my mother’s true strength. She’s endured, outwitted, and ultimately triumphed over a man who sought to control her destiny. Her resilience is a beacon, guiding me in how to lead, how to protect, and how to love.
As my father struggles on the ground, his legacy crumbling like the sugarplum around him, I turn to my mother. In her eyes, I see not just the mother who raised me, but a powerful omega who has reclaimed her life.
This is the turning point, the moment where the old ways give way to the new, and I, along with my pack, my family, will be at the forefront of this new era—one built on respect, equality, and love.
My father, in his arrogance, fails to see the end coming. For years, he believed himself untouchable, invincible in his own twisted world.
“Did you truly think I came here for pleasantries?” My mother’s voice cuts through the room, laced with years of pent-up rage. She looks down at him with a gaze that pierces his façade. “Did you believe I was here for you?” Her eyes meet mine, softening as a smile touches her lips. “I never came here for you.”
Foam spills from my father’s mouth as he twitches on the ground. The sight is jarring, yet there’s a sense of inevitability to it.
