My omega boyxboy

Ghosts from the Past

"Don't you miss me?" she asked, her voice deceptively sweet.

Miss her? My mind recoiled. No way in hell.

"LEAVE!" I shouted, my voice cracking with raw emotion. I couldn't bear to have her here, not in this place, not in my life. She was poison, a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, and she was going to ruin everything. If she stayed, the nightmares would come back, the darkness, the blood. I could already feel the phantom weight of it on my hands—the blood dripping from my fingers, the screams, those terrible screams that never left me.

She had to go. She had to go now before it was too late.

But she didn't move. Instead, she smiled, that same cold, unfeeling smile that haunted my memories. "Oh, my dear boy," she said, her voice laced with mock affection, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to make things right."

Her words made my stomach turn. Make things right? She had no idea what "right" even meant. This woman—the one who gave birth to me—had taken everything from me when I was just a child. She had twisted me, broken me, and then abandoned me to pick up the pieces alone. She didn't want to make things right. She wanted something, like she always did.

"I know I treated you badly when you were a boy," she continued, her voice dripping with false sincerity, "but I'm here now to make up for it. Please, just give me a chance."

I laughed bitterly, my chest tightening with rage and pain. Treated me badly? That was an understatement. She had made me kill my father when I was only four. She had turned me into a monster to get her revenge, using me as a pawn in her twisted games. And then, when I was no longer useful, she left me. Just like that. Cast me aside, and I was branded an Omega, a rank I didn't deserve, but one that made sure I stayed at the bottom, unwanted, unloved, tainted by her sins.

And now she was here, in my life again, as if nothing had happened, pretending she could just wave it all away with a few hollow words.

"I'm sorry," she said softly, but I could see the lie in her eyes. She wasn't sorry. She wasn't here to apologize. She wanted something, and I wasn't stupid enough to fall for her act. Not again. Not ever again.

"I don't care what you want," I growled, my fists clenched at my sides. "You need to leave, and you need to leave now. I don't want you here. I don't want anything to do with you."

"Bea, I think you should give your mother a chance," David's voice cut through the tension like a blade, and my heart sank. I could feel his presence behind me, strong and sure, but in that moment, I wanted to scream at him. How could he not understand? How could he even think to side with her?

I turned to him, my eyes wide with disbelief. "You have no idea what you're saying," I hissed, my voice trembling with anger. "You don't know her. You don't know what she's done."

David's gaze softened, his brow furrowing in concern. "I'm just saying, maybe—"

"Maybe what?" I snapped, cutting him off. "Maybe she'll apologize? Maybe she'll say she's sorry and we'll all have a happy family reunion? She's not sorry, David. She never has been, and she never will be."

He looked taken aback, but before he could respond, my mother spoke again, her voice sharp and commanding, the way it always had been. "Daniel, I know you hate me," she said, taking a step closer, "and I don't blame you for that. But I'm your mother. I'm the only family you have left."

"Family?" The word tasted bitter in my mouth. "You're no family of mine."

She flinched slightly, but the mask of control quickly returned. "I can help you, Daniel. You don't have to live like this anymore. I can give you everything you've ever wanted."

"I don't want anything from you," I spat, backing away from her. "I don't need anything from you."

Her eyes darkened, a flicker of frustration crossing her face. "You're still so stubborn," she murmured. "So much like your father."

The mention of my father sent a wave of grief and rage crashing over me. My father, the only person who ever cared about me, the one she took from me. The one she forced me to kill.

"Don't you dare talk about him," I said, my voice shaking with barely controlled fury. "You don't have the right."

For a moment, she was silent, her gaze locked on mine. And then, she smiled again, that cold, calculating smile that made my skin crawl. "You'll come around," she said softly. "You always do."

I felt sick. How could she be so sure? So confident that she still had control over me, that I would fall into her trap once more?

David's hand touched my arm gently, pulling me back from the edge of my spiraling thoughts. "Daniel," he said quietly, "maybe we should talk about this."

I pulled away from him, shaking my head. "No," I said firmly, my voice breaking. "I can't... I can't do this, David. I won't let her do this to me again."

"Daniel," David pleaded, his eyes searching mine for some understanding. "I'm just trying to help."

"Help?" I turned on him, the anger flaring up again. "You can't help. Not with this. This is my past, my nightmare, and you don't get to tell me how to handle it."

He looked hurt, but I didn't care. He couldn't understand. He couldn't possibly understand the things she had done, the things I had done because of her. I wasn't that scared little boy anymore, but she still had the power to tear me apart with just a few words.

My mother tilted her head, watching the exchange with thinly veiled amusement. "I see your mate has a backbone," she said, her eyes flicking toward David. "That's good. You'll need someone strong when the time comes."

My blood ran cold at her words. "What are you talking about?"

She smiled again, that same wicked smile that haunted my nightmares. "You'll see, darling. Soon enough."

I took a step forward, my fists clenching again. "If you think for one second I'm going to let you back into my life—"

"You don't have a choice," she said simply, cutting me off. "Whether you like it or not, you're still my son. And there are things you don't understand yet. Things that are bigger than both of us."

David stepped forward, placing himself between us. "He's not alone anymore," he said firmly, his voice steady. "Whatever it is, he doesn't need you to fight his battles."

My mother's eyes gleamed with something dark, something dangerous. "Oh, sweetheart," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "You have no idea what's coming."

And with that, she turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, my heart pounding in my chest and my mind racing. What did she mean? What was coming?

David turned to me, concern etched across his face. "Daniel, are you okay?"

I wasn't. I wasn't okay at all.

But I couldn't find the words to say it.