We didn’t have enough time to mourn them before we were sold, so the grief is still very raw.
“He told my pack what happened, and they threw us out. He joined the pack after he’d had me. I was about a year old at the time. Dad had a failed relationship with a beta, and she didn’t want me. That never bothered me, because my dad was amazing. The pack was childless, but had always wanted children,” he adds. “I don’t know why you’d invest so much time in loving someone, just to toss them out.”
“You don’t,” Ansel growls. “Soul bonds are special. Your parents didn’t have a choice in being drawn to each other on a random Tuesday because they went to the same grocery store.”
“It was a Friday,” I murmur. “She was in a rush and rarely went to that store. Mom used to say people were stuck-up there.”
“I remember the neighborhood,” Bell grumbles. “They were. Dad had money, but Helen, my stepmother, was the beneficiary.Herbeneficiary was her sister, which was a mess.”
“My aunt is a bitch,” I sigh, shaking my head as I take a sip of water. “My mom had a big fight with her pack, but my father actually is someone within the pack. He called my mother a whore, and said he didn’t believe I was actually his. All of it was very messy.”
“I’m sorry,” Ansel offers. “Some people shouldn’t be responsible for others.”
“Hmm,” I say. “I consider Alan more of a father than my own. I don’t understand why, but there was always this odd feeling I had. I spent a lot of time at school and at extracurriculars growing up in an effort to avoid my mom’s pack once I turned ten. I was happy for her, regardless of everything that happened.”
“Dad owned the house his previous pack was living in, so he sold it out from under them and bought something for just the four of us. No one is as petty as an omega scorned,” Bell says smugly.
It’s as if now that we’ve started, we have word vomit. We can’t stop the words, and a tear slides down my cheek. Talking about our parents hurts. Bellamy and my family became one and the same. Mom put Aunt Matilda in her will, just in case. She never wanted us to be separated.
Unfortunately, that seriously backfired.
“Bell and I are soul bonded,” I say suddenly, biting my lip.
“I had a feeling,” Abbott reassures me. “I’m glad you’ve had each other through all of this.”
Bell’s pinky tightens around mine before releasing me to pick up my fork and hands it to me.
“Try another bite,” he suggests. “Just one to see how the food sits.”
Nodding, I take the fork while he takes over. “When I met Winter, her eyes widened and she burst into tears. Her hand went to her head, and all I knew is I had to go to her. Our parents had no idea what was going on, but I knew something was wrong. I wrapped my arms around her, making sure to touch as much of her skin as possible. Her eyes closed in relief, and she told me later it was a stabbing pain in her eye. Like a migraine but worse. When her eyes opened, one was white and the other blue. They stayed that way.”
Finishing two more bites of food, I decide I’m done. My stomach has shrunk due to not eating normally.
“Our parents were shocked, but chose to take it as a sign that we were meant to be a family,” I say. “They got married right away in a small ceremony and it was perfect. We were so happy until the accident.”
“What happened?” Cassidy asks.
“It’s…confusing,” I admit.
“The police officer told her aunt that they were hit by an oncoming driver going in the wrong direction,” Bellamy says. “The SUV flipped on the road over the median and was hit by a truck. Both our parents died in the wreck. They went out on a date, while we hung out at home. Sometimes…”
“No,” I whisper. “It wouldn’t have been better if we’d been with them.”
“I agree,” Ansel growls, making me blink as I glance at him.
“Death isn’t the answer,” Abbott agrees, but his eyes are on Cassidy instead of us.
I have a feeling I’m missing something really important.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Cassidy says instead, ignoring Abbott. “Your parents sound as if they adored you. It’s just…a feeling I get when you talk about them. Beyond the sadness, there are really happy memories.”
“You’re right,” I say, forcing myself to take a breath as the tears flow faster.
Bell doesn’t hesitate to pick me up and place me in his lap, food forgotten as he holds me.
“Aunt Matilda is where things went wrong,” he says, his voice murderous as he echoes my thoughts.
“Matilda Richards,” Shiloh says, typing the name in.
