Heart of a rogue

* Chapter 7

As we approached the pack house, a knot formed in the pit of my stomach, tightening with each step. My heart hammered against my ribs, the sound echoing in my ears like a drumbeat of dread. Declan and Abel walked on either side of me, their presence a silent reassurance amidst the tension that hung heavy in the air.

Ahead, I could see Joshua engaged in a heated argument with my parents, their voices raised in angry protest. My father, towering and imposing, exuded an aura of authority befitting an Alpha, his every movement radiating power and dominance. Despite his intimidating presence, Joshua stood his ground, his jaw set in determination as he faced my parents head-on.

As we drew nearer, my mother caught sight of us and her expression softened, tears welling up in her eyes. I felt a surge of anger rise within me at the sight of her tears, a bitter reminder of all the pain she had inflicted upon me over the years. How dare she act as though she cared now, after all this time?

"Lucille," my mother whispered, her voice choked with emotion as she reached out to me, her hand trembling. "Oh, my baby, we've missed you so much."

Her words were like a slap in the face, a cruel mockery of the love and affection I had longed for as a child. "Don't," I snapped, my voice sharp with resentment. "Don't you dare act like you care about me now."

My father's expression hardened at my defiance, his eyes flashing with anger. "Watch your tone, young lady," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "You will show your mother the respect she deserves."

But I refused to back down, my own anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Respect?" I spat, my voice dripping with contempt. "After everything you've done to me? You don't deserve an ounce of respect from me."

The air crackled with tension as the words hung between us, each syllable a dagger aimed at the heart of our fractured relationship. Tears stung my eyes, a mix of anger and sadness threatening to overwhelm me. I vowed to never let them hurt me again when I ran away. 

As my parents continued to press me with their unwelcome presence, despite my clear reluctance, a surge of frustration boiled within me like molten lava. "I told you I wasn't ready to see you," I seethed, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "But as usual, you never listen. You just barge in here like you own the place, like you have the right to dictate my life."

My mother's tear-streaked face twisted in anguish, but I refused to let her guilt-tripping sway me. "This isn't about what you want," I continued, my words laced with bitterness. "This is about what I need. And what I need is for you to respect my boundaries, for once in your life."

My father's expression hardened at my defiance, his fists clenching at his sides. "We came here because we love you, Lucille," he insisted, his voice strained with frustration. "Can't you see that?"

But I shook my head, my anger mounting with each passing moment. "Real parents wouldn't force their child to see them against their will," I retorted, my voice rising with righteous indignation. "Real parents would respect their child's wishes and give them the space they need to heal."

As the tension in the air thickened, I felt the familiar tingling sensation in my fingertips, the telltale sign of my claws beginning to extend. But despite the mounting anger coursing through me, I remained steadfast in my resolve to keep control.

Sensing my rising agitation, Declan's concerned gaze met mine, his brows furrowed with worry. I offered him a reassuring nod, silently communicating that I had the situation under control. Despite the turmoil raging within me, my heartbeat remained steady, a testament to the strength of my willpower.

In that moment, as I stood toe-to-toe with my parents, I realized that I was no longer the helpless child they had once dominated. I was strong, resilient, and capable of standing up for myself. And as I held my ground, I vowed to never let them wield power over me again. A few pack members from Declan had gathered around, curious about the argueing going back and forth.