Betrayed

☾ Epilogue ☽

[Mature content]

Vladimira

Two Months Later

The ball took longer to plan than I thought it would. My father wanted everything to be perfect for my mother since this would be his way of officially flaunting her to the whole supernatural realm. He also will probably be announcing the news that they had both been deliberating and discussing intensely ever since her return: my mother would be turned into a werewolf by the end of winter.

Even though there was a chance of her not making it, neither the man nor the wolf residing in my father would allow for her to die, even if they had to flout the decrees put in place that restricted the use of their magic.

They would not lose her again.

I'm currently standing behind my mother in my parent's bedroom. She's sitting at the vanity while I curl her long, red hair. Her brown eyes are accented by tones of deep red, brown, and gold, courtesy of Nadia. My father had splurged on her ball gown, which was sitting on a mannequin in the center of their bedroom.

He loved her. He adored her. He worshipped the ground she walked on. He would die a thousand painful deaths for her. Their love is something that can only be understood by somebody who has their own mate bond, which does not include me.

I was surprised he even left her side today to get some work done before the ball, leaving me to get ready with her.

My mother sighs happily before meeting my eyes through the mirror, a small smile on her face. "I'm nervous to be turned but I know what to expect and I know that it's worth it." Her hands go to her neck to play with the new necklace my father had bought her to replace the one currently resting between the valley of my breasts. "Xavier has been very upfront with me about the pains involved in the first... couple shifts." She giggles nervously.

I send her a small smile as I douse her hair in hairspray, resisting the urge to cough when it attacks my nose. "It's painful, even for people who were born wolf. It won't be easy, and I'll go as far as to say that you'll want to die, but there's nobody better to have by your side. Father was the first to shift into and tame his wolf, so I'd say he has a lot of good advice to give you." I swallow and cringe when my throat remains dry.

We still haven't told her about all the shit that went down with Aaron's pregnancy. I can't bear to ruin their relationship by telling her what my father did, even if our relationship is flourishing despite the previous blows it took.

He's scarily supportive of Titus and me, but I still refuse to show outright affection to Titus around my father. The most I can muster is holding hands, and if I'm feeling frisky, a hand on his thigh.

My relationship with Titus has flourished also. We have settled into a pattern of who gets Aaron when, but I usually end up on Titus' land anyway, snuggling with our almost three-month-old son. I can say that more times than not, our little "sleepovers" end in us having hot, sweaty sex.

The memories bring a smile to my face.

As if reading my mind, my mother glances at me curiously as she stands up from the vanity. "How are you and Titus?" She asks softly, her red curls bouncing as she examines the intricately designed dress on the mannequin.

I release a long breath. "Great... amazing actually... which is why I need to tell you something before I explode." I pin her with a scared look as tears prick my eyes.

My mother and I had grown to be almost like best friends, and my stomach is churning as I think about what I'm going to tell Titus tonight so I need to tell somebody else. When I woke up this morning with this dreaded epiphany in my head, I rushed to the toilet to throw up. Except for this time, it wasn't pregnancy that had me spewing my guts. It was sadness and anger and heartbreak all rolled up into one.