Bad Memories

I had just zipped up my bag when the bedroom door swung open. I didn't need to turn around to know who it was — that perfume always clung to her. It dragged up every bad memory I'd buried during my years as her daughter-in-law. Every bit of suffering in this house started with Lady Margaret.

"What are you doing? And what is that?" She was still standing in the doorway, her eyes moving from my face to the bag I was stuffing with what little clothing I owned.

"I'm leaving," I said flatly, not looking at her. I picked up the bag and slung it over my shoulder.

Margaret stepped inside and slammed the teacup she'd been holding onto the vanity table.

"You're not going anywhere, omega trash." Her voice dropped into a low, venomous hiss. "You only became this pack's Luna because Cain's Dad felt sorry for you after your Dad died. So...you don't get to walk out of here like some cheap omega who forgot her place."

She was right, Cain’s dad, Alpha Nex Hargrove was the only person in this pack who actually cared about me after my father died. He was the one who took me in when I had no one left.

"That's actually none of your concern, Lady Margaret. I've already filed for bond termination and divorce through my attorney."

Margaret burst out laughing, loud and mocking, doubling over like I'd just told the funniest joke she'd ever heard. I was immune to it by now. She'd been making me the punchline for years.

"Divorce? Bond termination?" She said it like it was the most revolting joke she'd ever heard.

"You? Filing for divorce from an Alpha? From Cain? God, Leah, you are genuinely the most pathetic and hilarious creature I have ever met!"

Margaret moved toward me fast before I could react. Those long-nailed fingers clamped around my arm and dug straight into my flesh.

"Let go of me!" I shrieked, twisting against her grip, but the old alpha woman was far too strong for my weak omega body.

"Shut your mouth, you low-life whore." Margaret dragged me out of the room, screaming like something had possessed her. "Eight years! Eight years I've swallowed my shame because my precious son got bound to trash like you. A cheap omega, no bloodline, no dignity. A bastard child whose very smell makes people sick!"

Her grip tightened. My feet kept stumbling, barely keeping up with her pace. I tripped on the stairs more than once and she didn't slow down, not even a little. Pain shot through my ankle, and a dull ache spread low in my abdomen.

"Your father, that pathetic warehouse keeper, must be weeping in hell watching how stupid you've turned out. Given a chance to rise above yourself and instead you disgrace this pack with your disgusting audacity."

She didn't stop until we reached the front door. She threw it open and shoved me outside hard enough to send me stumbling. But I got back up, straightened myself, and ignored the ankle screaming at me.

A few seconds later, exactly like I'd predicted, Cain appeared. But he wasn't alone. Celeste was draped on his arm, performing her best shocked face. "Oh my god, Leah, where are you going?"

I didn't answer her. My eyes went straight to Cain.

"What's going on, Leah?" He looked confused for a second, then clocked the bag on my shoulder and figured it out fast enough.

"What is this, some kind of tantrum?" Cain asked, skeptical, while Celeste stifled a laugh behind her hand.

"I've contacted Mr. Whitmore. The divorce papers and bond termination will be on your desk shortly."

Cain lifted one corner of his mouth and looked me up and down, the way you'd do a final appraisal on something you never thought was worth much to begin with.

"You have nothing," he scoffed.

"Yeah, you're right. So let me go." I held his gaze. Didn't flinch.

"But remember this." Cain stepped forward. His face was inches from mine now, his breath hitting my skin like a slap. He was barely holding it together. I could feel it coming off him.

"You won't get anything. Not this house, not pack assets, not a single cent. Are we clear?"

"I haven't forgotten anything," I said, keeping my chin up as high as it would go.

Cain reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded stack of cash. He threw it at my face. The bills scattered around my feet.

"That's enough for a week somewhere," he said, breezy, not a drop of remorse, not even trying to spare my feelings. "Maybe two if you're careful."

I stood there looking at the money on the ground. Then I smiled.

"Goodbye, Cain." I turned and walked away.

"Won't even be a week," his voice followed me, same light tone I knew so well. "I give it less than a week before you come crawling back here begging like a dog."

I didn't stop.

"Leah." His tone shifted. "If you keep walking and you cross that gate, I will break the bond."

I kept going.

"I mean it, Leah. Stop."

First step past the gate.

"I am severing this bond with you, Leah Callahan. I reject you. And this bond will be broken forever."

Those words hit like an arrow shot straight into my heart.

The mate bond in my chest felt like something reached inside and ripped it out all at once. The pain was unbearable. Real, deep, radiating from my chest to my fingertips and down to the soles of my feet.

My entire body stopped moving for one second.

Just one second.

Then I took another step.

Eight years of Cain studying me and he still had me wrong. All this time I'd stayed because I believed his love for me was real. I was convinced we could be happy together, that things would get better, especially with the pups I was carrying.

But I was wrong. I had been too foolish, too naive to see that what Cain wanted, what this pack wanted, was never me.

*

I kept walking.

My chest felt hollow where the mate bond used to live. Not hollow like loss, but like a room that had been crammed for years with things that were never really yours, and someone had finally cleared it all out.

I didn't look back.

Not once.

I didn't know how far I'd walked when a black sedan slowed to a stop beside me.

The window came down.

A man I didn't recognize looked at me from behind the wheel with an expression I couldn't read. Not pity, not suspicion. Just professional, in a way that felt like he already knew he'd find me here.

"Leah Callahan?" he said.

I didn't answer. Just looked at him.

"We were sent to pick you up."