006 | Who is she?

Rhiannon’s POV

I straightened my leather jacket, touched the ring in my nose, and ran my hands down over the loose waves of my silver hair. As I stared at myself in the mirror I worried my bottom lip, watching as it started to swell. 

With a sigh I reached forward and plucked my liquid eyeliner off my desk. I unscrewed the cap and swiped more across my eyelids, making the existing wings darker and thicker. I felt like I was smearing my cheeks in war paint – but I looked just as unprepared as I had when I’d stumbled in here, my heart pounding a million miles a minute and tears prickling the back of my nose.

The door groaned open and Cin shuffled inside, frowning at me the second she saw my expression. “You okay, Rhi?” she asked.

My emotions were too fragile for me to speak, so I just nodded. Dropping the eyeliner back onto the pile of mess covering my desk, I sloped over to my bed and flopped backwards onto it. My room was small – we were only Omegas, after all, so our cabin wasn’t big or fancy – but it was cosy, all warm wood and thick rugs and checked bedding. I tangled my hands in the duvet at my sides, scrunching and scrunching until the lump in my throat had subsided enough for me to talk.

“Did you hear about Michael?”

Her weight made the bed dip as she settled down beside me. We both stared up at the ceiling; I watched the evening sunlight spill through the window, casting golden shapes across the logs. 

“Yeah,” she rasped. “Yeah, I did.”

“It was only a matter of time, wasn’t it?”

“It was. And it’ll happen again, won’t it?”

“It will.”

We lapsed back into silence. Cin took my hand and squeezed it. 

The fight had gone out of me. Michael’s limp body had brought back memories, memories I tried really damn hard to forget. I’d left Stephen downstairs, and when I’d left I’d been fuelled by misplaced rage and a desperate ache to know who my mum really was. Dad had never told me anything, and seeing Michael like that – on my birthday, when I always thought more about who Mum was than normal – had brought that question to the forefront of my mind. Was she alive? Did she know about us? Would she care if she did? But now that urge felt selfish, and I just felt sad.

Michael had been a good guy. For him to just be gone like that, over some stupid curse none of us understood…

“It’s not fair, is it?” muttered Cin, rolling over to face me.

I kept my gaze fixed on the window. “Fuck no.”

She cleared her throat. “Stephen told me you were going to confront Dad.”

I scoffed. “I’m glad my mate is such a great secret keeper,” I said, even though it hadn’t really been a secret. “I was, though.” Knowing she would ask, I added, “About Mum. I don’t know why, I just… I always wonder more on our birthday. About who she was. And seeing Michael like that… but it doesn’t matter. I was being stupid.”

“No, Rhi, I don’t think you were.” At last I rolled over to look at Cin, who had screwed up her face as she thought. “It’s the same for me, you know. And we are eighteen now. We have a right to know.”

Hope split my chest open. That nagging ache was returning, filling my limbs with restless energy. My leg started to jiggle, making the whole bed bounce. “You think?”

Cin said something, but my wolf spoke over her. ‘Are you sure this is a good idea, Rhiannon?’

‘Honestly?’ I replied through our mindlink. ‘I haven’t got a clue. But if I lie here, thinking about Michael, and… you know,’ I gulped, ‘and how hopeless this curse is, I think I’ll go mad.’

‘So this is a distraction.’ The words themselves weren’t particularly judgemental, but Tiger’s tone sure as fuck was.

‘Maybe. But is that such a bad thing?’

‘I’m just not sure if it’s such a good thing.’

I rolled my eyes. Cin slapped my arm lightly. “Why are you rolling your eyes at me? I’m agreeing with you!”

“I’m not rolling them at you,” I said pointedly. “Tiger is chipping in her with opinion.”

“Hi, Tigs!” Cin waved. “Well, if she wants to know, Dolly thinks it’s a brilliant idea.”

I couldn’t help but grin. Dolly was my sister’s wolf, though she behaved more like a Golden Retriever. She’d go along with anything Cin suggested, eager to please and always encouraging. Unlike Tiger, who could be too damn opinionated for her own good sometimes. 

“Thank you, Dolly,” I said slowly, making every syllable crystal clear. And, hell, maybe this was a distraction – but I was feeling better already. Moping around about Michael wouldn’t make him any less dead. But solving a personal mystery? That would make my sister feel better, and that would make me feel better.

‘Don’t lie to yourself.’ Tiger scoffed. ‘You want to know just as badly as she does, if not more. This was your idea in the first place.’

‘Oh… shut up.’

Tiger laughed at me. ‘Great comeback.’

‘See this?’ I said. 

‘What?’

‘It’s your nose. I’m giving it back – I found it in my business.’ Before she could think of a witty retort to that, I spoke aloud to Cin. “Shall we go find Dad, then?”

She jumped off the bed and nodded. “Let’s go.”

* * *

By the time we’d found Dad, I had my emotions back in check. I was right – all we’d needed was a distraction. I felt bad about Michael, and a bit guilty that I wasn’t sat sobbing over the loss of him, but we hadn’t been that close. And it wasn’t like he was the first person I’d lost.

My muscles pulled taut at the memories trying to drag me away, but I held myself firm. I clenched my hand into a fist under the table, images of the war flashing through my mind’s eye. It had been bloody and underhanded, devastating on both sides, and… 

No. No, no, no. Don’t think about it, Rhi, I told myself sternly.

My gaze drifted to Cin, to the scar slitting the left side of her lips, and my stomach turned over. I had to steel myself yet again as Dad poured four cups of hot water.

We’d run out of tea and coffee a long time ago, so now we just drank heated water and pretended it filled that hole. “Thanks,” I muttered, cupping the chipped mug between my hands.

“Well, girls,” Dad said, sitting down heavily in the chair opposite me. We were back in the kitchen, but this felt more like an interrogation than a celebration. The remnants of our birthday cake had gone goddess only knew where, and with Michael’s death and our planned confrontation hanging in the air between us, the warm light of the kitchen seemed purposefully dim and the hard-backed wooden chairs extra uncomfortable. The table itself was a barrier, keeping Dad and Stephen on the defending side while Cin and I took up arms, ready to attack.

Under the table, Stephen hooked his foot around my ankle. It made me feel maybe one percent better.

But it also made me think of Alpha Caleb, which I just couldn’t do. He had a mate, and so did I. My heart – and the stupid bloody mate bond – were making it out to be the most pressing issue in my life right now, even though the Eternal Winter and Michael’s death were currently sitting at the very top of that list in reality.

And Mum. Whoever she was.

“What a birthday this has been,” Dad went on, fiddling with his own mug but not drinking from it. “I can’t believe… poor Michael.” He paused, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m sorry I haven’t got you a present–”

I cut him off. “Please don’t worry about it. We understand why.” I nudged Cin, who’d been sulking, and she nodded reluctantly. 

Silence swelled. Awkward, spine-tingling silence. 

I glanced at Cin. She kept her eyes locked on the gnarled wood of the table. Fat lot of help she’d be, then. 

“But…” I started, looking up at Stephen for reassurance. He gave me what I thought was meant to be an encouraging smile, though it came out as more of a grimace. 

“But what, sweetheart?” asked Dad, his blue-grey eyes going wide with concern.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek, holding his gaze as I tried to word what I wanted to say. My eyes brushed over his gaunt cheeks – cheeks I always remembered being rounded, uplifted with smiles and laughter and just chubby enough to soften the edges of his face – and the stubble lining his jaw. Stubble he was scratching. Dad always scratched his stubble when he was nervous about something. Did he know what I was going to ask?

I bit the bullet and blurted out, “I thought maybe you could give us some information as a gift this year. Information about Mum.”

His shoulders sagged. “Rhiannon…”

“Why won’t you ever tell us?” Cin asked wetly, blinking back tears. “It’s not that we need anyone other than you. We just want to know who she is. Like, okay – why are we so huge in our wolf forms if we’re just Omegas? Mum had to be a Luna, didn’t she? And is that why she didn’t stay with you? Did she have to go and be with some hoity-toity Alpha mate somewhere?”

“Cin,” I murmured, catching her hand in mine. 

She gasped around a sob. Her nails dug into my palm. “Sorry,” she rasped.

In the quiet that followed, I glanced up at Stephen. His hands were clasped on the table, and he looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “You don’t have to stay,” I said softly. 

He looked at my Dad, who patted him on the shoulder. “You’re part of this family now, son. You’re welcome to stay. And the girls are right. They should know this; I’ve kept it a secret for far too long.” He sighed, scrubbing a hand into his blonde hair. 

It slithered back down to his jaw. Scratch, scratch, scratch.

“You’re right, Hyacinth,” he said, after what felt like an eternity. “Your mum was a Luna. A very powerful Luna. And we were in love.” His face twisted. “But we… after she… when you girls were born, she told me to run away with you and never look back. It wasn’t that she didn’t love you. She did. More than anything else in the whole world.”

Cin was still crying softly, so I swallowed the serrated lump in my own throat and spoke up. “Why did she want you to take us away, then?” 

“Because you were my daughters, but if we’d stayed, the pack’s Alpha would have claimed you as his own.” His throat bobbed. His nails scraped over his stubble. “We weren’t really together. We were having an affair. The Alpha thought she was pregnant with his pups, not some Omega’s. She told him you’d both died during the birth, and I ran.”

Tears gleamed in his eyes. I reached for him. “Dad…”

“It’s all right.” He smiled blearily, daubing at his damp lashes. “It was a long time ago, now. And I got you girls. That’s always been more than enough for me.”

* * *

“What is it, Rhi?”

I was pacing back and forth in my bedroom. Stephen was sat on the end of my bed, his chin propped up on his clasped hands. 

“I don’t believe him,” I said. “It was too easy. He’s kept that secret for eighteen years, and all of a sudden he just gives in and tells us?”

“Rhi–”

“And did you see his eyes? They were darting all over the place.”

“Rhiannon–”

“And the way he was scratching his stubble! He only does that when he’s nervous, lying, or doesn’t want to answer a question.”

Stephen stood up, his hands snaking out to grab me. I stilled, glaring up at him. “What?”

“Maybe this isn’t what you want to hear right now, but does it really matter? If he’s keeping her identity from you, he probably has a good reason for doing so. You’ve got him. Isn’t that enough?”

A muscle pulsed in my jaw.

I saw Michael. I saw blood. I saw that last battle, the one I’d lost her to…

“I need this,” I rasped. “I have to know.”

“No,” he murmured, “you don’t.” He pulled me down onto his lap. I went with him stiffly. “Do you want to talk about Michael?”

“No,” I snapped. “Not really. Talking about him won’t bring him back.”

“But it might help us process it–”

I stood up. “I’m going out. I just need to be by myself for a bit.”

Stephen eyed me worriedly. “Are you sure you should be alone right now?”

I jerked a nod at him.

“I can go, this is your room…”

“Stay.” I shrugged. “Or go. I don’t mind. I want to go for a walk anyway. I need to clear my head.”

He nibbled at his bottom lip, but he didn’t argue. “Maybe that would do you some good. Make sure you wrap up warm.”

As I dug through my closet, ripping out layers of knitted jumpers and scarves and hats, all from his mum, I mouthed his words back to myself. “Make sure you wrap up warm,” I scoffed silently.

‘Be nice,’ Tiger chastised me. 

‘Remember when I asked for your opinion? Yeah, me neither.’

Without another word, shoving on clothes as I went, I stormed outside.

And walked headfirst into Alpha Caleb’s chest.