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“How can you be certain? I mean, how well did you know my dad? Mom died when I was little and I don’t remember you growing up.” I winced at my choice of words and hoped she didn’t think I was being rude.
We came for information and we wouldn’t get any if I started off by offending her.
“Your mother and I shared more than a last name, Talia.” She offered a weak smile that did little to hide the pain in her stormy blue eyes. “The question you should be asking isn’t how well I knew your father, but how much do you really know about your mother.”
“I don’t. I tried over the years to get my father to tell me something, anything about her but he dodged my questions and drank himself into a stupor whenever I brought her up.”
Galen turned his hand palm up, offering his support and I took it, entwining my fingers with his.
“You’re not Northwood pack. Not really.” Aunt Sylvia closed her eyes and let out a heavy sigh. “Neither were your parents. Either of them.”
“Dad was a member of the Northwood pack. He raised me as a member.” I shook my head, refusing to believe what she’d said. “You’re wrong.”
She had to be.
My days with the Northwood pack were over. My membership had been revoked and I’d been exiled, but that didn’t erase my upbringing or my father’s lineage.
Unless that was yet another lie.
There were so many. The ones I’d told Galen, the ones Maddox told me and it seemed my father told his fair share as well. It became impossible to keep track of them all.
“I take it he never told you the story of how they met.” She sucked a breath between her teeth and pursed her lips. I’m not surprised.”
“But you know-”
“There were no secrets between me and your mother, but it just so happened I was there.” Aunt Sylvia raised her hand to stave off any more questions or interruptions. “Your father was a rogue. He lived on the outskirts of our village.
“You expect me to believe my father was a lone wolf? I scoffed, unable to hold back. “He could barely take care of himself. He needed the pack and was as loyal as a golden retriever to the very end.”
“Some might say your mother tamed your father, or broke his spirit, but it’s not true. She soothed something wild, something dark deep within him. If I had to use one word to describe their relationship it would be fierce.”
Aunt Sylvia stopped rocking and leaned forward; the metal mechanism clanking as she forced the footrest closed.
“You said your father couldn’t take care of himself? Did you ever stop to wonder why? And don’t say because he was an alcoholic.” She pointed her index finger at me, pinning me to my seat with her glare. “That was a symptom, not the problem. Your mother had demons of her own. Real ones and your father fought them. He protected her. He didn’t talk about the things he’s seen because he’s seen some scary shit.”
Galen sat in silence, transfixed by every word my aunt spoke as my parents’ story unfolded.
It wasn’t the story I expected.
I’m not sure why I thought it would have gone differently for my parents. When I looked back on my childhood, there weren’t very many sunny days, or rainbows. Silver linings were few and far between.
I was well cared for and my father loved me. I had no doubt about that and I never wanted for necessities, but there was a cloud that hung over us. A storm settled over our house the day my mother died and it followed us wherever we went.
A fog of sadness that rolled in and clung to everything.
It seemed like things had finally taken a turn when I was in my teens. My father continued to rise in the pack ranks, I had a job in town and I’d caught the eye of the alpha’s son. We were fated and I was going to get the happily ever after my parents never had.
Nothing turned out like I’d planned.
Not that I was complaining - at least when it came to being mated. I dodged a bullet there.
The jury was definitely out when it came to my demon pack lineage, but something told me that whatever my aunt had to say, it wasn’t going to be good.
“After all these years, why now?” Aunt Sylvia’s hands trembled in her lap. “Why are you really here, asking questions?”
“You already know why, don’t you?” Galen barked out a bitter laugh, fell back against the couch cushions and rested his right ankle over his left knee. “Talia’s visit isn’t a surprise. You knew she was coming, with or without her father’s passing. You were just biding your time until she showed up.”
“Galen.” I chastised with just his name and raised my hands in a placating gesture to my aunt who’d jumped to her feet at his accusation.
