CHAPTER 4: MOTHER OF ALL REGRETS

Percival

I stared down at her—small, almost fragile—totally stunned. 

“Annabel? What the hell are you doing here?”

My mom walked into the room slowly, like the weight of the world was dragging her down. Her belly was just starting to show, barely noticeable unless you knew she was pregnant. She let out a long, exhausted sigh and dropped herself into the chair by the window, rubbing her stomach like it could soothe more than just physical discomfort.

“I’m still your mother, Percival,” she said softly, giving me this wistful smile. Her fingers ran over her hair, the same dark strands pinned up in that signature chignon of hers. “You look... different. Taller. Stronger. Handsome too. You finally look like the Alpha I always knew you’d be.”

I didn’t say anything. Just stared at her, unsure if I had the patience for this right now. 

“Look, I—”

“Percival.” Her voice cracked, and those icy blue eyes—same ones I used to see above my crib—locked on mine. “I carried you. I gave birth to you. You’ll always be my little pup. Please… talk to me.” She reached out her hand.

I didn’t take it. Instead, I stepped closer, my gaze cold and sharp as a blade. 

“I remember the night I became Alpha like it was yesterday,” I said, voice low. “I remember you calling my mate weak. I remember you saying you hoped Tatiana would win. That night, you made it clear—you’re not my mother.”

The anger inside me surged up like lava, burning through my chest. Her face crumbled, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was scared… angry. Letting go of everything I built—it was hard. But I want to be in your life. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but please… just hear me out.”

I let out a long sigh and brushed past her outstretched hand, dropping into the chair across from her. My jaw clenched. 

“What do you want, Annabel?”

She gave a small, sad smile. “I see Edeline finally changed her mind. She’s… different now. Stronger. I watched her grow at Dark Moon. She’s not the same girl anymore.” She paused, her gaze soft. “You must be proud.”

And I was. Damn proud. My chest swelled thinking about her—my woman, my warrior, the only one who could’ve pulled off what she had.

Annabel smiled again, more to herself than to me. “I can see it on your face. She changed her mind, didn’t she? Did she let you in?”

I shook my head. “Not yet. I don’t even know what the future holds with her. But I don’t want to talk about that.” I started to stand, but she reached for my arm, eyes glassy with tears.

“Please. Just talk to me,” she pleaded, her voice breaking.

I sighed again, heavier this time, and slumped back in the chair. “Fine,” I muttered. “Talk.”

She wiped her cheeks and gave me a shaky smile, full of regret. “I’m sorry, Percival. For all of it. For what I did to your father. For what I did to you.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Did you ever even love him?”

Her expression turned solemn. “I did. I still do, in some way. But we… we drifted. We weren’t true mates, not bonded. But I cared deeply for him.” She paused, her fingers twisting in her lap. “By the time I found out Nyra died… I had already met Gaspar. I loved him too. But I couldn’t stay with him. He wasn’t anyone important. No title. No rank. My father was a Beta, and he expected more from me.”

She let out a bitter chuckle, eyes distant now. “So I went to Maximus. Asked for help. Of course he agreed. He never believed in the mate bond anyway. Said family loyalty was more important. So, he arranged my engagement to William.”

I blinked, trying to keep up with the mess unraveling in front of me. 

“What about Gaspar?” I asked before I could stop myself. Some part of me needed to know.

She flinched like the name physically hurt. Her voice cracked again. “I loved him,” she said. “I still do, in some way. But I couldn’t bring honor to my family with him. I didn’t even tell him I was leaving… not until William showed up to take me away.”

Her head dropped, shame rolling off her in waves. 

“I left him a note.”

A damn note.

“I was scared,” she went on. “Scared of seeing him cry. Scared I’d break down and stay. Scared William would hurt him. I… I was just scared, Percival.”

And then she really broke. Her tears spilled freely now, her whole body trembling as years’ worth of emotions poured out.

I stared at her for a moment, then scoffed under my breath. “And now you’re in pain.” I shook my head slowly. “The moon gave you what you deserved. Put you right back in your place.” 

I felt nothing for her. She chose to leave us. She chose to ruin it all.

She wiped at her tears and nodded, trying to hold her voice steady. “I’m where I’m meant to be now. I know it’s hard to believe… but I am. Are you happy?” she asked, almost too softly. “I did love your father. I really did. We got to know each other and something grew from that. And I love you. Both you and Darius. More than anything. I’m sorry. I mean it—I’m sorry for everything that happened. I shouldn’t have gone back to William. But if you’re asking if I regret it?” She looked me dead in the eye. “No. Because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have had you. Or Darius.”

She paused for a beat, then added, “I’m ashamed of how long we kept Darius’s condition secret. And it’s on me—it’s something that runs in my side of the family. But I’ve always loved him. Just like I love you. I want you two to know each other, Percival.” Her eyes lit up with the tiniest flicker of hope.

A genetic illness? That’s what he’s been dealing with all this time?

I leaned in a little, narrowing my eyes. “I see you’re not wearing that collar anymore.”

Her cheeks flushed with shame. “No,” she said quietly. “Not anymore.”

I raised an eyebrow, voice sharp with sarcasm. “So, how’d it feel? Getting humiliated by your own mate?”

She looked up at me, then exhaled like she’d been holding it in for years. “I earned it,” she said.

That made me freeze.

“The night you… the night I was handed over to him,” she began, voice trembling, “William rejected me. Gaspar told me that night he’d make me regret ever leaving him. That he’d punish me in ways I couldn’t imagine. And he did.”

She rubbed her hands together in her lap, eyes staring through the wall like she was back there again.

“He wasn’t going to mark me at first. But that night, he did. After that, everything changed. He couldn’t bear to be touched, not by anyone but me. But he still wanted me to suffer. He kept me collared, leashed like a dog, left me in the yard in my human form for the pack to mock. I hated him for that. But… his touch was the only thing that made me feel human again. The only thing I looked forward to.”

Her voice cracked a little.

“At meals, I had to sit at his feet—or in his lap. I could only eat what he gave me, with his hands. He treated me like a damn pet. And that didn’t stop until I got pregnant. That’s when everything changed. He doesn’t do those things anymore, not like before. But I still have to eat from his hands. The whole time we were traveling… sometimes he’d attach me to a zipline like a dog, just to think. And in our quarters… I used to sit and wonder how I’d turned into this cruel woman.”

She blinked away tears, face drawn with regret.

“I hurt Gaspar. He spent years building himself up, climbing ranks just to earn me back. But by then… I was already carrying you.”

I stared at her, hard. “And what exactly is the point of telling me all this?”

She looked down, breathing out a hollow laugh. “I know what I’ve become. A monster. I did horrible things, chasing pride, chasing approval, just trying to be what my family expected. I hurt Gaspar. I hurt William. I hurt you. And now I want to make up for it. I feel like the moon gave me a second chance with this baby. I want to be better. I want to raise him right.”

Her expression turned solemn. “But I also believe I deserve punishment. So after I give birth… I want to take the lashings.”

I blinked, stunned.

She wasn’t lying. She meant every word.

“You’re joking.”

She shook her head. “No. I want to do something for someone else. Just once. Something everyone’s been waiting for.”

I slammed my forearm down on the table, the sound echoing. “You think lashings are gonna fix this?! Who the hell does that help, huh? Tell me.”

I stood, anger bubbling under my skin. “You think that’s selfless? It’s not. It’s your guilt talking. You think you’ll feel better after a little pain, but that’s just for you. It doesn’t help your baby. It doesn’t help your partner, who can’t even handle a newborn. And it sure as hell doesn’t fix twenty-three years of lies. Lashings aren’t justice—they’re a damn excuse.”

I shook my head in disbelief, my voice raw.

“You want to be selfless? Start by being a mother. Start by facing everything you’ve done, without looking for a way to wash it clean. Because this? This is just another way to feel better about yourself.”

“Leave.” 

I moved to the door and swung it open, my eyes locked on the blank wall ahead as pressure coiled in my chest. It wasn’t rage—not entirely. It was more than that. Heavy. Tight. 

She stood up slowly, all teary-eyed and shaky, like the dam had finally burst. As she made her way over, I didn’t look at her. Couldn’t. She stopped right at the threshold, hesitating like she wanted to say something—or maybe she just wanted me to stop her. 

I didn’t. 

“I’m really sorry,” she whispered, just before stepping out. 

Percival, you better hold on to your girl. 

I shut the door behind her without another glance. She gave me a small, guilty smile on her way out, and it only made my gut twist harder. She didn’t belong here. Not with us. Not in this mess. 

I dragged a hand down my face, fingers tangling in my hair. “Thank the Goddess for that,” I muttered. 

But the fire inside me hadn’t died down. I needed to burn it out before it swallowed me whole. 

And I knew exactly where to do it. 

No way Edeline wanted to see me right now—not with the mood I was in. But being near her was the only thing that ever helped. 

Not today. 

Today, it was the field. Training. Pain. Something real. 

I threw on my gear and stormed down the stairs, slipped out the side door of the pack house, and made a beeline for the field. I needed to move, hit something, sweat it out. 

But the second I turned the corner, I stopped dead. 

Nineteen pairs of furious eyes locked on me. 

Older wolves. Men. Women. Faces I recognized. And behind all that anger—grief. 

The parents. 

The ones who’d lost their kids. 

I didn’t need them to speak. I already knew. 

“Alpha X!” someone shouted. 

I remembered the first wolf I took down that day. Darrin. Matthew’s father. That man—he was the one stepping forward now. 

I squared my shoulders, chest high, letting every inch of dominance roll off me like a damn storm. “What business do you have with me?” I asked, my voice low and cold. 

He flinched, just a little, but stood his ground. Couldn’t meet my eyes, though. 

“All our children died,” he said. “Because of you. Because your partner thought it was funny to rile up the men while she was in heat.” 

“Our sons paid the price.” 

Watch your tone. 

The growl rose from deep inside my chest, sharp and guttural, as my wolf edged forward, ready. 

I didn’t know how this was gonna go down. 

But I was wired tight, and barely hanging on. 

And I hate being boxed in.