35
REINER
“Wait Daddy but I don’t get it,” James objected, sitting up into his bed. “Why Red didn’t understand that… that the wolf was not Gwanny?”
I closed my eyes for a second, taking a breath.
I was happy to have smart and curious children – but after a day like the one I’d had, I’d much
rather they simply enjoyed the story and then went to bed.
“Well, I guess she was a bit dumb” I commented.
“Super dumb!” Jim reiterated. “Even if Grandma did wolfie like you and Mommy … she should
have known it was her! I recognize you and Mommy!”
“Aren’t
you tired, baby?” I sighed. Fortunately, Violet had collapsed in the middle of the story.
Jim shrugged his shoulders. “A bit.”
“Then you might want to take a nap,” I suggested. “You also have school tomorrow.”
“Can we go to the park after school?”
I nodded, “If the weather’s good, sure.”
The prospect put him in a good mood – and when I pointed out that he’d need energy to go play in the park, he quickly crawled under the covers.
“Good night, Daddy,” he smiled, already with his eyes half closed, as I kissed him good night.
“Good night, baby.”
I stopped to give a kiss to Violet, too, who despite her fever had insisted and gotten to sleep in her own bed (what if Jim feels lonely Daddy? ), and then went to Becks’s room.
She had been sleeping peacefully for half an hour already – so much so that she did not wake up when I placed my hand on her forehead to check her temperature. Fortunately, she was as
fresh as a rose.
Good. The drugs were starting to take effect.
“Good night,” I murmured, tucking her in, and then went to the living room. I’d prepared the couch with blankets and pillows, to spend the night there in case Becky or Violet felt sick
again.
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8 Points
I settled on the couch, found a comfortable position, and closed my eyes, trying to get to sleep.
It didn’t work.
After an hour spent tossing and turning and trying to fall asleep, I decided to turn on the TV to the most boring program I could find and leave the volume to the minimum, hoping the white noise would help. It was my go–to trick when the kids didn’t want to sleep.
Nothing.
My brain stayed on, fixed on that day – in particular, on Becky.
s**t, I was damn proud of her. I didn’t think she had to apologize to me, not expected her to, because hers had only been a reaction dictated by the panic attack, but I was so happy that she had managed to find the strength within herself to even face that conversation – to be able
to say “yes, something hurt me and still upsets me today.”
I knew how proud she was, and that her way of dealing with problems generally was either
sweeping them under the rug or ignoring them by going on with her life – so I knew what kind
of effort taking the time to acknowledge that problem had required of her.
And she had chosen to deal with it.
You’re a force of nature, baby.
That conversation, brief as it was, had made me breathe a sigh of relief: finally, that tension
between us was gone, and serenity had returned.
Although, perhaps, when I had to confront her about what happened four years ago, that
serenity might disappear.
The thought made my stomach clench.
I might not do that. I could… leave everything as it is.
I immediately discarded that idea: leaving everything as it was meant allowing that wall
between us to stay there, it meant never knowing what had really happened to us, and that I
would not allow.
Fortunately, after another half hour, the white noise from the TV seemed to work – or maybe I
was just really exhausted and fatigue was starting to set in.
Good, I thought, closing my eyes. Let’s hope the night goes smoothly.
I woke up caught by a strange quiver of restlessness: my wolf was pacing restlessly, snarling
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and panting, mad with worry.
What the…
And then I felt it.
A dark cloud, laden with terror and desolation, was at the edge of my mind – right where the mate bond with Becky was.
Something was happening.
Before I knew it, I was up and running toward her bedroom.
“Becks?”
+8 Points
She was in bed, in which she was restlessly tossing and turning. Small whimpers came from her, and I could smell salt in the air.
How much did she cry for me to smell her tears?
She was having a nightmare – and a bad one.
“No…” I heard her whisper. “No, please don’t …”
My stomach turned to ice.
What … what are you dreaming of?
“Please, I’m … I’m pregnant, don’t …”
I ran to her side and gently shook her shoulder. “Wake up” I ordered her.
She tossed and turned – her face the depiction of anguish.
“Please…” she sobbed.
“Becks, wake up,” I told her again, this time harsher.
“I
not fair… he doesn’t… Sheila, don’t …”
I felt the color drain from my face. My mother’s name.
Why was my mother in Becky’s nightmare? Who was this he? What the hell was going on
inside her head?
The cloud against my mind darkened even more – and I knew there was no more time.
I wouldn’t let my mate suffer anymore.
“Rebecca, wake the f**k up!”
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35
Using my Alpha voice did the trick – Becky’s eyes snapped open, full of fear and tears.
And I felt my heart rip.
–
I couldn’t stand seeing her like this feeling her pain, her torment.
She threw herself into my arms the very moment I moved to hug her, sobbing and throwing her arms around my neck.
Okay. If she reacted like that, it was really bad.
“It’s all right, I breathed, holding her close and rocking her as she sobbed on my shoulder. “It’s
all right, baby, I got you. It was just a nightmare, I got you“.
“Don’t make me leave” she cried, almost choking me. “Please don’t make me leave, I didn’t do
it, I swear I didn’t…”
“No, you’re not going anywhere, I promise …”
“It’s fake – I promise it’s fake, don’t believe her, you can’t trust her…”
What is she talking about?
Making her leave? What was fake? Who was this her – my mother or someone else?
What was all of that about?
“I won’t,” I told her, trying to calm her down. “I believe you. You’re staying right here, Becks“.
But she looked absolutely inconsolable. She was holding on to me so tight… almost as if she
was scared I’d leave.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I added, stroking her hair. “I’m right here with you, don’t worry“.
“Please don’t make me go away, please … I swear… I swear I didn’t…”
“I know, baby, I know“.
“Don’t take my babies away, please … I swear…
Everything clicked.
The babies. Don’t trust her.
I love you.
I’ll carry the pain and the truth.
I swear I didn’t do it. It’s fake.
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It’s fake.
Thank the Goddess I was already sitting down.
Holy s**t.
Becks had no reason to lie – and certainly wouldn’t be able to while completely hysterical.
My theory, which saw her abused and blackmailed, began to crumble.
“I’m not a slut, I promise I’m not …”
What the actual f**k.
“You’re not,” I told her, this time taking her face in my hands and forcing her to look at me. “I
know you’re not. I believe you. I swear I do“.
Nothing, though, seemed enough to console her – no words or hugs or gestures. She was in such an awful place, mentally, that my words barely reached her.
So, I held her in my arms, close to me, allowing her to let out all of her pain until she had no
more tears left to cry.
I knew that, the next morning, I’d find bruises around my neck and shoulders, from where her arms had wrapped too tight – but I didn’t care.
Slowly, her tears and sobs began to calm down: an hour later, they finally stopped.
Becks stayed in my arms, absolutely spent – and finally, that dreadful cloud disappeared: she was too tired even for that. There was now a strange sense of peace in its place – a most
welcomed numbness.
This is enough. I’m getting to the bottom of this now.
It was clear that my mate was being tortured by awful memories of the past – that someone, namely my mother, had hurt her horribly and that the memories continued to do so.
I was not going to let that b***h hurt my Becks, the woman I loved, a moment more.
“Rebecca” I called her, cupping her cheek. She turned her face, trying to avoid eye contact.
No, you’re not doing that, baby.
“Rebecca, look at me,” I ordered her.
With a sigh, she complied. Her deep blue eyes were totally spent, dull.
“You’re telling me everything that happened four years ago, and you’re doing it now“.
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8 Points
–
Another sigh this time, more defeated.
I felt a blind rage grow inside of me. My mate- my powerful; brilliant, confident mate… was feeling defeated. Spent. Broken. I’d known her basically for all her life had been by her side through a lot of s**t, and never seen her like this – which meant that, whatever had happened, had been worse than anything, for her.
How did she dare to hurt her like this?!
“You won’t believe me anyway,” she muttered.
Great. Sheila (I couldn’t bring myself to call her my mother) had also managed to destroy her trust in me.
Just f*****g great.
“I will,” I told her. “I only know that I’ve been lied to about what has happened and that it’s hurting you. Please, tell me, baby. Tell me where it hurts“.
“You won’t…”
Then show me, I begged her. I knew she preferred to use our bond when we had to talk about something difficult: I hoped that asking her to show me her memory, something she couldn’t just change and manipulate, would reassure her enough – after all, I couldn’t not believe a memory.
Thankfully, something in her eyes changed: hope was now glimmering in them.
I wanted to sob from the relief.
Slowly, almost tentatively, I felt her mind approaching mine: I welcomed her in, and images and memories began to fill my mind.
