Jenny’s mouth formed into a flat line. “Calvin knew what he was getting into when he brought you to Alaska, Millie. He should never have done that. It was foolish and dangerous. He’d thought taking you home and teaching you about your roots was going to somehow fix the past. He thought that time had healed a rift between himself and the Tupilaqs, that they’d embrace you with open arms once they met you. He’d been wrong, baby, and that mistake cost him his life.”
My muscles tensed with anger over her callous words. “You’re blaming my father for his own murder!”
She shook her head. “No. I’m saying he should have known better. Packs like the Tupilaqs don’t ever forget a perceived slight. He, better than most, knew that fact, but chose not to heed it.”
I wanted to cry at the woman’s utter lack of compassion for the man she might not have loved, but certainly cared enough about to have a baby with. “Cut to the chase, Jenny. Why are we having this conversation?”
“I need your help, Millie. I have to make a decision that no mother should ever have to make, and I don’t take it lightly. This decision is the difference between life and death and can’t be ignored.”
Was she being hyperbolic or were these men going to kill my mother if I didn’t return to the pack willingly? “Life and death? Malcolm is threatening to kill you if I don’t return to the pack?”
That just seemed outrageous. She was his mate. The one he’d ruthlessly manipulated to return home to him. Why would Malcolm do something like that after all he’d gone through to force her back into the fold?
My mother covered her mouth with her hand and vigorously shook her head. “Not me,” she sobbed. “Bowman. If you don’t return to the pack, Millie, they’re going to banish your little brother from it, turning him into a stray!”
Was I missing a vital piece of information here? “You said life or death,” I reminded her then. “While it’s cruel as hell to take your anger out on your own child, banishment isn’t the same thing as death.”
“It is,” my mother vehemently argued, tears spilling over the rims of her eyes as she spoke. “Being a stray is a fate worsethan death for a pack ware. He wouldn’t know the first thing about how to survive, where to go, or how to navigate the world on his own. The loss and shame of it would consume him until there was nothing left but a hollow shell.”
I was furious at my mother’s admission. “You mean he’d be a mutt, just like the boys of Cascia House?”
My mother had the good grace to blush. “I know these are ugly words, Millie, but that’s how people will view your brother if he isn’t affiliated with a pack. You might not like hearing the truth, but it doesn’t erase the harsh realities of being a stray. They’ll scorn him. Pick fights. Gang up on him until one day they finish off the shadow of a man he grows into. I’ve seen it more times than I can count. The world isn’t kind to mutts. It breaks them down and destroys them one day at a time.”
“Why in the world would Malcolm banish his own son?” The man might be a shit father and husband, but it didn’t make any sense that he would destroy his own flesh and blood out of sheer spite. There had to be more to it.
My mother’s eyes darted quickly around the room. She lowered her voice as though she was afraid somebody might overhear her. “Because he’s not an alpha, Millie. Bowman is a beta.”
I didn’t know what the hell that meant. Well, I did, but I wasn’t sure what it meant in this context. “What does being a beta have to do with anything?”
My mother shushed me. “Malcolm is the proud alpha of the Tupilaq pack. He can’t admit he has a beta for a son. It’s humiliating. He’d be the laughing stock of the entire community.”
Life always had a way of teaching us a lesson, and this one was Jenny’s. It wasn’t just “other wares” who were projecting this disturbing sentiment of inferiority upon her son. It was her. She also agreed with the notion that you were somehow “less than” if you were not claimed by a pack or didn’t possess the proper title. Well, she was dead wrong. Ethan, Flint, Stark, Colt, and Gavin were all amazing men. They’d stood beside me when I needed them, and that’s all that really mattered to me. Too bad my mother couldn’t see the truth, even when it was staring her directly in the face.
“What do you want from me, Jenny?” I posed finally, tired of the constant games. “Give it to me straight, because I’m done with all this breadcrumbing you’ve been doing. Now’s the time to put your cards on the table and ask me for whatever it is you want. You won’t get a second chance.” I thought I knew the answer, but I had to hear her say it out loud.
My mother chewed the inside of her cheek as she decided her best strategy forward. “I want you to come home and be bound to Osyrius. If you do, Malcolm has promised me he won’t excommunicate Bowman from our community. It’s the only chance your brother has at a normal life.”
And there it was. She wanted me to sacrifice my life for Bowman’s. I shouldn’t be surprised or upset by her request. Yet I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t both. Once again, my mother was showing me I was expendable to her. Nothing more than a bartering chip for the child she actually loved.
Swallowing down my overwhelming disappointment, I calmly stated, “No. Find someone else to be your sacrificial lamb. I’m not doing it.”
An expression of pure rage, chased by absolute disgust, flashed across my mother’s face. “Think carefully about this,Millie. It’s not just Bowman’s life you’ll be saving. You’ll be saving Ethan’s as well. Osyrius is the pack’s best fighter. He’s much younger than Ethan is. I’d hate for you to have to watch the stronger man tear your beloved apart.”
I was sickened that she should try to manipulate me into compliance with the threat of my mate’s death. “Yes, Jenny, I’m sure your deepest concern is for how I would feel.” I didn’t give her the chance to answer. “I’m not worried about Ethan’s ability to take on Osyrius. My mate wasn’t raised with a silver spoon in his mouth like your stepson. It’s like you said,Jenny, strays have to fight the world on a daily basis. What’s one more fight to a man that’s survived the worst life can throw at him? Worry about your own family. I’ll worry about mine.”
My mother shook her head like she couldn’t understand my reasoning. “I’m asking you to protect your innocent brother, Millie. How can you turn your back on him like that? He’s your own flesh and blood!”
Picking up my wine, I stood. “My mother was a great teacher,” I bluntly retorted before turning and walking over to my mate without a backwards glance.
My mother left the restaurant in tears. I pretended not to notice or care. We stayed for dinner afterward, and my companions all acted like I hadn’t just had an intensely painful conversation with my estranged mother just minutes before.
Flint, in his own way, had tried to comfort me. He’d ordered me another glass of wine and handed it over the minute I’d drained my first. Because I was a lightweight, it immediately warmed my chilled and shaking hands so that I could at leastpass for calm and collected, two things I most certainly wasn’t.
Ethan placed a bolstering hand on my back and rubbed it soothingly throughout the night. To be honest, I couldn’t remember much after that. My mind was reeling with all that I’d just learned. I had a brother. One that I’d probably never get a chance to know.
When we got back to the motel, Ethan asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”
I shook my head in denial. “No. I’m too angry to deal with it right now. Maybe later.”
