Tamed by the Lycan Prince

34- HELP

CHAPTER FIVE

-SERENA-

In the morning, I woke up to the smell of a hearty breakfast floating up from the kitchen. The savory scent of frying bacon, scrambled eggs and freshly brewed coffee was intoxicating, yet my stomach churned uneasily at the thought of the impending confrontation. Pushing off the covers, I moved quietly to the door, peering out into the hallway. The twins, Bellatrix and Rae, walked out of their shared room clad in their matching pink pajamas, their youthful faces unmarred by the worry that plagued me. They giggled softly, their voices harmonizing in a comforting melody that momentarily lessened my anxiety. Their innocence was calming yet also achingly poignant. They were blissfully unaware of the brewing storm.

Not wanting to spoil their morning with the somber truth of our situation, I plastered a smile on my face and stepped out into the hallway. "Good morning, you two," I greeted them.

"Morning, Severa!" they chimed together, their voices ringing through the hallway like church bells on a quiet morning.

Together, we descended the staircase to the kitchen where the rest of the house was gathered. Our mom was standing at the stove, cooking breakfast for us while our dad leaned against the counter, engrossed in the morning paper. Our youngest sibling, Ariston, sat quietly at the table, waiting for his portion of food.

"Morning," Ariston murmured, never raising his eyes from the table. Since birth, he has had a visual impairment that causes significant blurriness in his vision. Dad glanced up from the newspaper and gave us a nod of acknowledgement.

Mom turned around, wiping her hands on her apron. "Good morning, my darlings," she said, her voice as warm as the buttered toast on the plates she was preparing. "Breakfast will be ready soon."

As we took our seats, there was a knock at the door. I stiffened.

Mom, ever the gracious hostess, put down her spatula and went to answer the door. "Who could be calling at this hour?" she wondered aloud as she disappeared from view.

Upon her return, she wasn't alone. Behind her trailed Weldon, Mrs. Growler, and Mr. Growler. I could see the uneasiness in all of their faces, but it was Weldon's gaze that made me realize where this conversation was going.

"Girls, can you head upstairs for a moment?" Mom asked, turning to the twins. "Oh, and can you take your brother with you?"

The twins glanced at each other in puzzlement, their identical green eyes wide, but they complied. Rae took one of Ariston's small hands and led him away from the dining room with Bellatrix.

I made to stand as well, but Weldon shook his head. "No, Severa," he said. "You can stay. I've already told you what we are here for."

With a nod, I resumed my seat, the back of my neck prickling with apprehension. Dad finally put aside his newspaper and cleared his throat. "Well then," he said, folding his hands on the counter and looking at our guests, "What brings you here so early, Theo?"

"I don't see any point in beating about the bush," Mr. Growler said gruffly, and turned to my mom. "Parella, we need your help."

With a puzzled frown, Mom moved to wipe her flour-dusted hands on her apron. "With what, Theo?" she asked.

"Wilhelmina." Mrs. Growler's voice was quiet.

"Your daughter?" Dad asked curiously. "What happened?"

Mrs. Growler's frown deepened as tears welled up in her eyes, causing concern for my mom. She gently led Mrs. Growler to the table and helped her sit down. Mr. Growler joined his wife, taking a seat beside her while Weldon sat next to me. My parents also sat at the table, sensing that something was truly wrong.

Mr. Growler let out a deep sigh, "I'm sure you're aware that Wilhelmina has been chosen to be the new Luna, despite her protests." He stopped speaking, his eyes falling to the table in front of him. "Unfortunately, only a few days ago, Boris attempted to forcibly mark and mate with Wilhelmina."

A gasp slipped from mom's lips, her blue eyes filled with horror. "No," she whispered, hand clutched to her chest. She turned to face Mrs. Growler, sharing a look of dread only mothers could understand.

"Boris?" Dad's voice was a low growl, his usually relaxed eyes turned to slits. "That incapable boy. Does his father know of this?"

"No, we haven't told him." Mr. Growler replied.

"Beside there isn't much the former Alpha Leon can do. Boris is the new Alpha thus meaning he can do as he pleases." Weldon grumbled. His fists tightened into balls, his knuckles growing white.

"Then we must take action," Dad declared. "How is Wilhelmina?"

Mr. Growler looked down at his hands, clasped tightly in front of him. "She hasn't left her room since that day, and Dermon has been taking care of her."

"How can we help?" Mom asked.

"We cannot allow Wilhelmina to wed such a dreadful boy. As of now, we only have two options." Mrs. Growler squeezed my mom's hands tightly, her face filled with concern. "Initially, it was suggested that Weldon should challenge Boris for the role of Alpha."

Weldon grimaced at this, his fists clenching tighter. "And you know I'd be more than willing," he said, his jaw flexing. "But it would be a death sentence. Boris may be incapable in every other respect, but he is a skilled fighter."

"The second option was to find Wilhelmina's destined mate." Mr. Growler glanced at my mom.

"Her destined mate?" Dad's question hung in the air, waiting for a response. Mr. Growler turned to him and nodded, reaffirming what he had just told us.

Mrs. Growler's grip on my mom's hand tightened as tears formed in her eyes. "Parella, I can't bear the thought of my daughter marrying such a barbaric man. So please, can you help my daughter?"

Mom took Mrs. Growler's hands in hers, tears forming in her eyes, "You never have to beg, Cordea. We've been friends since the day I moved here. I will do anything for you."

Mrs. Growler smiled through her tears and hugged my mom, while Mr. Growler nodded his gratitude towards my dad. "I'll come over this afternoon to look into Wilhelmina's future," Mom offered sincerely.

"Thank you, Parella," Mrs. Growler sobbed, clutching onto my mom as if her life depended on it.