Tara Westover Family Home Romane & Geschichten

“You don’t even know where.” “I don’t care where.” She pressed a hand dramatically to her chest. “Cruel, dismissive and emotionally unavailable.” “I’m busy.” “With what?” “Life.” “That’s not specific enough to be real.” She fell into step beside me anyway, Leonard on my other side with a coffee and the air of a man resigned to witnessing poor decisions in progress. “It’s at Seth Palmer’s place,” Tara said. “Parents are away. Half the year’s going.” “That sentence alone puts me off.”

I had to find a way to take Sawyer down without dragging my name and my family. When the car parked in front of the Manor, I climbed out with my feet feeling heavier than a ton. “It’s gonna be fine.” Even Tara wasn’t convinced by her own words. I spent the rest of the hours at her home office, talking to my dad via Zoom about the wedding, the other project we had in New York, the bridge that he finally approved, and agreed with my ideas, and the visit of Abdellah. I left Tara with Olive to have some girl time.

You snarled at him. “Olivia Yates, stop” His voice demanding. “Stay away Winters!” You warn him. You speed up walking, zig zagging down streets trying to avoid Nate, you know this isn’t going to work but you try anyway, you arrive at Tara’s house. Tara’s house wasn’t fancy it was your generic family house; the outside made of pinky/peach wooden panelling, there were some white stone steps which led to a white, wooden double door, sat beside a large wooden window.

assistant"> We drive to Tara's house, which barely qualifies as a house anymore. It's a mansion. Her dad made a fortune in finance before moving fully back into pack life, and it shows. Massive windows. Marble everywhere. The kind of place that looks staged even when nobody's home. Omegas aren't servants anymore—haven't been for years—but Tara still somehow lives like wolf royalty. Her parents are away in Hawaii. Which, according to Tara, means civilization has temporarily collapsed. We order pizza, dump makeup across every available bathroom surface, and start getting ready like we're preparing for war instead of a club.

When the obsidian wolf-drawn sled came to a halt outside the gates, I gripped the edge of the seat so tightly my knuckles burned. “We’re home,” Taren said quietly, his tone unreadable. Home. That word stabbed deeper than I expected. Since my parents’ death, I hadn’t known what home felt like. Rhett and I had planned to claim the ancestral manor after our mating ceremony, a home built on my bloodline’s land, surrounded by the howling woods of my ancestors. I realized now that he’d probably already brought Selene there. “What’s wrong?” Taren asked, his gaze flicking toward me.

"So where exactly are you from again? You have this... I don’t know, mysterious vibe. Like you lived in the woods or something." "I’ve moved around a lot," I said calmly. "With a family that big? Must’ve been... interesting. Do you all share one room? One toothbrush?" I smiled thinly. "No. We manage just fine." She leaned closer. "Do you guys, like, hunt for your food? Trap squirrels and stuff?" The jock laughed. "I bet they live in a cabin with no electricity. Probably have a cauldron too." Tara smirked. "She’s probably a forest witch."

"No." "Good." The discussion was over, though the children disagreed, naturally. Their home sat on a hillside overlooking the academy. It wasn't inside the academy and it wasn't inside the capital—just far enough away to feel peaceful, and just close enough to remain connected. It had taken years to build, years to fill, and years to become home. Somehow it had become everything Lyra once dreamed about during that first date with Kaelen: a home, a family, and peace. They were simple dreams, the best kind.

It was the same voice she used to manipulate me into giving her sweets before dinner and letting her stay awake after her sleeping time. "What did you make?" Zara moved towards the children and they gestured towards the yard of our house. Five years ago, I had moved my family out of the packhouse and into my grandparent's cabin (after heavy renovation, of course) for some privacy. I and my mate enjoyed the privacy as much as possible and so did the children because they had access to their rooms and a very big yard. This is so not fair, I mind-linked Zara to show her my frustration at being stopped this way.

she tried to hide her tears, but unfortunately, they fell down. I immediately pulled Tara into my arms and caressed her hair as she rested her head on my shoulder. Chris and Clark also moved closer to us. “It’s okay, Tara. Your mother will be fine.” Clark mumbled and then pat Tara’s head. “She will get through with it,” Chris added. “What hospital is she in?” I asked. “It’s in Laupe General Hospital. A neighbor town of Gale.” After Tara said those words, she hugged me tight then cried out all of her emotions, and I kept on caressing her to make her feel that we were here, that we got her back no matter what.

I’ll have to find a way to clean it up later when no one is looking. Downstairs, I see Tara standing near the front door. She has a small suitcase with her and looks a bit nervous but also curious as she looks around our house. “Hello, Tara,” I say, trying to act normal and not think about the mess upstairs. “Welcome to our house.” She gives me a small smile without replying. My parents start talking with her about the arrangements for her stay, discussing things like meals and curfews and how long she’ll be staying with us. I try to pay attention to the conversation, but part of my mind is still thinking about the spilled water upstairs.