Understanding The Borderline Mother Novels & Stories

“And you? Why are you here? You and your daughter got what you wanted, had your ranks changed and everything went according to plan, or did she forget to mention anything else?” My mother shook her head as though she had suddenly become mute. “Then what do you want?!” Zain yelled, making both of us take a step back. “I just wanted to see my daughter. Plus, I was tired of living in a house so close to the border. It’s really not safe for an old woman like me who just happens to be an omega and has lost her wolf as well, alpha. Th-that’s all I promise.” Now, I was the one to cross my arms over my chest and narrow my eyes.

His jaw tenses in agitation, but he leaves it alone. He just doesn’t get it at all; he has no way to understand my relationship with her when his own mother is everything you could want in a parent. Kind, caring, protective, and loyal. She would move mountains for her sons and is an advocate for abused children across all states. He wouldn’t understand.

Jenny's empathy offered a glimmer of solace amid the chaos that threatened to engulf us. Yet, even as I acknowledged the shades of gray that colored my mother's character, I couldn't shake the weight of her choices, the pain she had inflicted on those closest to me, especially Jenny. The wounds ran deep, leaving scars that marred the fabric of our relationships, a stark reminder of the havoc my mother had wreaked in her misguided quest for power and control.

I sigh as she looks at me. "just wondering why your mind linking instead of talking out loud",Fury laughs. "we are linking about the thousands of rogues at the border and how to get rid of them",she looks at me and nods. Dad sighs. "we noticed coming in son and I will help anyway I can",why can't mom be nicer? She is literally being a bitch to me and Kat for no reason.

Like I said, it was always just me and my mom against this world, and I loved it that way. I’ve never been close to any man before. I never even gave them a chance to get close as I always made sure to put a clear distance between me and them. My mom would always try to convince me that one bad man doesn’t make them all bad, and that someday, I might meet someone whom my heart will not allow me to place any kind of distance between me and him. I used to tell her that that will never happen, and she would only smile mysteriously at me and stay silent.

Alas, I was already dead, and the dead could not cry out in pain. In the end, Mom was sent to a psychiatric hospital. Her self-harm had gotten so severe that she almost electrocuted herself at home. The community intervened and had her forcibly admitted. She became the strangest patient there. Somehow, she got hold of a red plastic ring and wore it around her neck as her collar. Anyone who tried to remove it would be met with frantic biting, as if she had gone rabid. "Don't touch my collar! Irene is watching! She'll be mad if you take it off!"

Saw me feel the bond muffle. “Your warriors can’t reach you,” she said pleasantly. “The barriers will hold long enough.” She took a step toward me, the practiced warmth fully gone now, the thing underneath it fully visible — the obsession that had driven twenty years of planning, the grief of a person who’d wanted something real and had been handed the tools of harm instead and had chosen to use them. “Mother started this,” she said. “I’m going to finish it.” She smiled. “Now, let’s finish what my mother started.“​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

I appreciated that, at least. I spent the first hour alone unpacking and thinking, which is how I process most things: methodically, turning each piece of information over until I understand which side has the useful edge. My mother had been pack-born. She had fled a controlling Alpha—Dominic and Rafe's father. She had spent my entire childhood hiding me from a world she knew I was built for, and she had done it, I was beginning to understand, out of genuine love and genuine fear in equal, inseparable measure. I could not be angry at her for it. I could be sad, and I was, and I let myself be sad for approximately fifteen minutes before I put it away and returned to the practical.

Mother looked straight at her before going on. “The Final Binding will break you down to your lowest and then rebuild you from the inside out. Your final gift is usually the most stubborn to emerge; therefore the most gloriously excruciating changes occur.” When horrified murmurs began, Mother raised a hand and the room stilled. They all knew the cost of rousing her ire. Though usually composed, when she did lose control it was like a switch flipping, suddenly Zraconian, and no one wanted that. She pushed away from her desk and walked between the rows of seats.