For Me,There Is Only You |18+|

41. Suffering And Bargain

When I was trapped in the facility, I would often dream about what life would be like back home once I escaped.

In my mind, I saw myself happy, surrounded by the warmth of my parents, everything returning to how it was before I was taken. I clung to that hope, thinking it would help me survive.

But reality was far from what I had imagined.

It had been three months since they brought me back from that hell and sealed Zev's powers.

Three months since I returned to what should have felt like home, but everything felt different, almost unfamiliar.

Mom and Dad had been hovering over me ever since. They were always there—too much, almost—constantly showering me with their love, but it felt forced, like they were trying to make up for all the time that had been lost.

Mom cooked my favorite dishes every single day, insisting I was too thin, even when I could barely eat a bite. Dad, who never took a day off in his life, stayed home just to be with me, always watching, always waiting, as if afraid I would disappear again.

I knew he was busy dealing with the mess I had left behind, with all the unrest and suspicions, yet he pretended like everything was fine.

Uncle, Aunt, Nathan, even little Noel—they visited constantly, talking to me in soft voices, trying to fill the silence with their laughter, their presence. I could see the worry in their eyes.

I could feel it—how they were trying so hard to act normal, but nothing was normal anymore.

And then there was Grandfather. He didn't even pretend. He was just as cold as he'd always been, maybe even colder now. He hadn't spoken a word to me since I got back, not a single word.

He looked at me like I was a stranger, like I wasn't really there—or maybe like he wished I wasn't.

Yesterday, I visited the others—Ezra, Genesis, Phoebe, and two new boys, Kyler and Karson. Dad told me they were the only ones he could save.

The traitor, the one who leaked the information that I was the vessel for Zev, had also told everyone that other children had been rescued.

But Dad was careful this time. After learning the information had leaked during the escape, he found the traitor—a warrior—and killed him.

The children were hidden away in the forest house, deep in the woods, a place we used to visit during vacations when I was younger. It was my mother's ancestral home, a gift from my maternal grandfather after her marriage.

No one knew its location.

When I was brought back to the pack, everyone was so focused on me that they forgot about the other children. When the question finally arose during a council meeting, Dad told them there were no other children rescued. He said they had all escaped.

Even though some didn't believe him, they couldn't challenge him—there was no proof.

One of my father's warriors, Oliver, who had been injured in that battle and was now retired, proposed that he and his mate could look after the children. They didn't have any kids of their own.

Dad agreed; he trusted Oliver. He knew he was a good man.

The children seemed happy, or at least they were trying to. They were adjusting to this new life, playing and laughing like nothing was wrong.