Her Daughter’s Mate

Aria's POV

I checked the time again. 9:45 p.m.

The third time in ten minutes. There was no sound in the house, but only the ticking of the wall clock. My phone was on the table and the screen was on with unanswered calls.

Damien still hadn't picked up.

I exhaled and rested my back against the couch, and had to take a breath. I was likely to be busy, I said to myself. He had to be. The job of the pack was sometimes too much, and perhaps there was some emergency at the border. He could never skip the eighteenth birthday of his daughter on purpose... could he?

However, I was aware of lying to myself.

"Mom?"

I glanced round and beheld Lyra standing at the doorway. Her hazel eyes, which were usually bright, were dull.

"Is Dad coming?" she said, and her fingers were twitching at the hem of her sleeve.

I cleared my throat and replied. "Of course, sweetheart. He'll be here soon."

She looked at me as she did not think it. Last year neither did he come. Or the one before that."

Lyra, I said, patting the place next me on the couch. She leaned back, leaning against me. "Your father loves you, okay? He's just... busy."

Too busy to have his daughter a birthday? she mumbled.

That struck me like a blow to the heart.

I smiled feebly and wiped a strand of hair off her face. "He'll come. You'll see. He wouldn't miss this one."

But after hours of waiting, I too could no longer feign it. The cake remained untouched, the candles melted in small puddles of wax, and the food was lying cold on the dining table. The decorations which I had spent all the day preparing now looked like ridicule.

At eleven, Lyra was no longer able to conceal her dismay. She then rose and said goodnight, Mom, and went off to her room.

Goodnight, baby, I called after her, and had to smile, which she could not see.

As she closed her door the house sank back into silence.

I washed the dishes one by one, without weeping. This was not the first occasion when Damien was doing this, yet this night was not supposed to be the same. She was turning eighteen. Her first change was on the way, her first mating ceremony was not far away-- everything was different.

He should've been here.

Where are you, Damien?

I jumped at the sound of the front door being thrown open. My heart skipped. I swiveled around, and I was relieved. "Damien!"

He leaned against the door, and was waving. Even before he could talk the strong odor of alcohol pervaded the atmosphere. My relief vanished.

I said, You are late, and attempted to speak in a calm voice. "Lyra waited all night for you."

He laughed derisively and tossed his keys on the table. "So?"

"So?" I repeated, shocked. "It was her birthday. You promised you'd be here."

He walked past me. "I had things to do."

What do you think can be more important than your daughter? I demanded.

"Watch your tone, Aria." He warned.

"I'm just asking," I said. She wept herself to sleep to-night, Damien. You have been out of her eighteenth birthday.

He gave a bitter laugh. "Eighteenth birthday. Big deal. She remains the same wolf-less girl that she was yesterday.

The words stung. Do not, do not, do not talk about her, I said hastily.

"Why not?" he snapped, stepping closer. You think I do not hear what people talk behind my back? That I have a wolfless daughter? A weak omega? You believe that does not disgrace me every day of the week?

I froze. I had heard him say mean things, but never such.

She is your daughter, I said.

"And she's a disappointment!" he roared.

I said quietly, "You're drunk."

I tell the truth, he retorted bitterly, sinking down on the couch.

. Alright, I said, trying to keep my voice level. But, Damien, do not do this, please. Don't make it any worse than it is to-night. Just go to bed. We'll talk in the morning."

He stared at me with disgust. You still think you can tell me what to do, huh?

I heaved a sigh and turned to go up stair. I was too fatigued to argue again. But then I smelled it--the weak odor of perfume. Feminine. Sweet.

My stomach twisted.

Is it because this man has dumped the birthday of our daughter to be with a hoe?

"Who were you with?" I asked quietly.

He stared at me, as though he were deaf. "What?"

"Don't play dumb, Damien. I can smell her all over you." The cracking of my voice was in spite of the effort I made to remain calm.

He drew up his lips in a sadistic grin. And why do you think you can ask me?

I said, I must say, I am your mate, but my heart was beating.

A low, mocking laugh he gave. "Mate. Don't make me laugh. A partner is meant to make you complete. A husband provides you with power, heritage, heirs. What have you given me, Aria? A daughter who is not even shiftable.

Tears burned my eyes. It is not my fault that she does not have a wolf, Damien. You know that. It's in the bloodline, not--"

Don't talk science with me, he snapped. "Science can't hide the truth. I have a son already--with one who has a right to me.

For a second, the room spun. "What?" I whispered.

He was tall, towering over me, and he had a satisfied look. "You heard me."

I took a shaky step back. "You cheated on me?"

"I moved on," he said coldly.

I put a hand over my heart, and attempted to calm myself down.

"Why, Damien?" I managed to say. And everything we have been through? After all the years--"

He interrupted, and his voice was harsh and definite. "Because you failed me, Aria. And from this moment on..."

He paused.

“I, Damien Blackwood,  reject you as my mate.”