Chapter 9: Reunion and Revelations

Olivia’s POV

Beta Austin stood beside the dining table with his hand crossed and eyes fixed on me. Before me, sat a steaming dish of roasted meat sauce and fresh bread, which hadn’t even been touched.

“I do not need your food, I just want to return to my Pack with my son. Is that too much to ask for?” I quizzed, refusing to eat the meal being served to me. 

Austin sighed like he had been waiting for this resistance. “I cannot do you that favor, Olivia,” He said calmly.

“Then please leave… Take your food. ” I turned away, patting Jeremy’s head as though the conversation had ended.

Austin looked at me for a long moment wondering the next action to take. He had braced himself for hostility but the weariness hiding beneath my strong façade startled him. 

He sighed as his voice immediately took on a softer tone. “Just eat something,” He urged again. 

“You’re not doing yourself or your son any favors by not taking care of yourself,” He added thinking I was going to get hooked on that but I said nothing to him in return.

“Okay,” he said, sitting up straighter. “If you’re not going to eat, then let me follow another of my Alpha’s instructions. Come with me,” He said.

“Where?” I asked, my expression almost tense.

“I’m going to take you to your mother,” Austin said.

I paused and looked at him like one lost in thought. I was wondering what both Alpha and Beta were playing at. 

‘What was Damien playing at?’ I thought, yet I had no other choice but to comply.

 Followed him outside to see a royal chariot was waiting. I had anticipated a plain carriage, but this was shocking to me. Its polished black exterior shone in the mid-day sun, the Blood Moon crest imprinted in silver on both sides.

Jeremy’s little fingers curled around mine when we stepped in. Plush velvet seats awaited us in an enclosed space filled with the scent of lavender.

As the royal chariot moved up the hill away from the palace, Jeremy turned to me and started a conversation with wide innocent eyes.

“Mommy,” he said hesitantly. “Is this our new home?”

“No, sweetheart. This isn’t our home,” I replied dismissively but softly.

“Then why are we here?” His tiny fingers fidgeted with the fabric of his tunic. “Why won’t they let us go?” He asked.

I swallowed hard because how on earth do I explain the true nature of things to a child?

“They’re holding us here because …because they think they can.” My voice was bitter, but I faked a little smile for my son’s sake. 

“But don’t worry. Mommy will ensure that we get out quickly,” I assured him with a pat on his head.

Jeremy paused, before nodding his head in acceptance.

“That man from before …” He continued, his little face wrinkled in concentration. “The one who looked at me like he knew me. Was he a bad man?”

The question made my heart leap. “It doesn’t matter, Jeremy,” I cooed.

“But…”

“It doesn’t matter.” My voice was final and Jeremy asked no further. He just kept fiddling with his tunic as the chariot finally drew to a halt.

I had scarcely registered our arrival before the doors were flung wide to the most breathtaking display of estate I had ever seen in the pack. My mother’s home was a mini mansion.

As my eyes took in the scene before me, I stepped out in disbelief. The gardens were colourful and full of greenery, a small fountain by the side gurgled peacefully, and the fragrance of fresh jasmine filled the air.

  

My mother came forward to welcome me. The last time I saw her, she had been frail, weak and sickly, hardly hanging on to life but now, she was in the doorway of a great house, dressed in soft silks, her face radiant with health.

“Olivia?” My mother’s voice quivered with disbelief in it.

My world faded away as I rushed forward, hurling herself into my mother’s arms. The familiar warmth, the smell of home and lavender brushed my nostrils in a way that brought nostalgia.

“You’re alive,” I said, holding on to her. “You’re really alive,” I asked again.

My mother pulled away, tears rolling down her cheek.

“You…you’ve grown so strong,” she said, then, she cast my eyes down at Jeremy, who was lingering shyly next to the chariot.

Her lips parted In shock. “This…” Her voice shook. “This is my grandson?”

Hearing the feel of the emotion on the air, Jeremy stepped forward slowly. 

“Hello,” he said shyly.

My mother knelt before him and let out a sob. “Oh, my sweet boy…” She wrapped him close, kissing his forehead.

The maids who were previously silent ushered Jeremy inside like a king.

“Come, little prince,” One of them cooed. “You must be hungry.”

I frowned playfully at the treatment. They were catering to him as if he were the king and as I stepped inside too, my eyes moved around in admiration for the queenly interiors.

As the maids brought out all manner of exotic dishes for Jeremy, I and my mother, sat in the grand parlor, the joy of our reunion already fading into serious conversation.

“I don’t understand,” I said softly. “How did you…”

“Damien,” my mother said flatly.

“What?” I exclaimed.

My mother smiled brightly. It was Damien who saved me, Olivia. “He brought me the best healers, paid for my therapy, and when I was well again, he built this house for me.”

I sank my nails into my palm. “Why would he do that?” I asked.

My mother exhaled softly. “He regretted what he did to you.”

“He explained everything to me, Olivia,” my mother continued. “How he wronged you. How for years he had wanted to find you and how he never stopped looking.”

“I guess I’m just supposed to forgive him?” I scoffed. 

“I believe you ought to at least hear him out,” My mother pleaded.

“No. He does not deserve my forgiveness,” I spat.

My mother’s gaze softened. “You are not going to let another man raise Jeremy, are you? Look at him. He is Damien’s striking resemblance.”

I flinched, my heart constricting painfully. “Damien requested an abortion from me,” I muttered accusingly. “He never wanted Jeremy. He doesn’t deserve to be his father,” I said.

My mother leaned in and squeezed my hand. “Just think about it, my love,” She pleaded.

“I am married now and I am a Luna in my pack. Coming back to Damien is a sick illusion,” I explained.

“Another man cannot raise his son the way he would,” My mother insisted.

I spent a few hours with my mother having quality conversations with her before heading back to the palace and as we journeyed back, I still processing the conversation I had with her.

But upon stepping into the palace, I was shocked to my marrows to find Brielle, the lady whom Damien had declared to be dead, standing in the hallway.