“My companion was slain before my eyes,” he states softly. “I experienced only anger and pain, desiring solely to impose that upon the man who deprived me of everything.” Regrettably, I was never able to do so. Cyrus never discovered his actual mate, and in my fury, I terminated him too swiftly to savour the act. Upon assuming the role of Alpha, your father exhibited a comparable bloodlust to mine and initiated the massacre of my pack. I could not let him get away with it.”
A visage of humiliation envelops his robust countenance, his fingers tapping nervously upon the tabletop.
“On the evening of King Arthur’s birthday celebration, I dispatched my warriors to the King’s Mansion with a singular objective.” Injure Noel as his brother injured me.
Anger surges through my veins at the thought of this battle. How many innocent lives have been obliterated in the pursuit of vengeance?
“However, I did not succeed…”
I abruptly raise my head towards him, and before I can enquire about his meaning, I hear two pairs of footfall approaching the dining room. A young man resembling John approaches us as the door opens. A recognisable aroma permeates the room, one I have not encountered in over twenty years, and I observe a pair of little feet behind the young man. He moves aside, the colour draining from my face as I gaze at the exquisite woman beaming at me. Her hair is now long and grey, however her eyes remain unchanged despite the passage of time. I rise to my feet, my heart racing intensely.
“M-Mom?”
Quinn
“Mother?” “ the man stammers, his face pale as he gawks at me.
I glance behind me, only to encounter a closed door obstructing my way.
Whom is he addressing as Mom? I wonder.
John emits a gentle giggle, prompting me to glare at him for his mocking before I redirect my attention to the apprehensive man. A solitary tear descends his cheek, yet he refrains from approaching me, as though he fears I would dissolve with even the slightest breath in my direction.
He appears remarkably familiar; nonetheless, I cannot precisely recall the context in which I have encountered him.
“Look harder, Ry,” John mind-links me. “You know him.”
“Do I?” “ I ask, squinting my eyes at the mysterious man.
I examine his characteristics, noting his black hair, silky pale complexion, and warm brown eyes.
such eyes… Where have I encountered such eyes…
“I believe we should first take a seat, Ry,” John states, rising to give me his chair.
I approach my husband, prompting the young man to whimper.
What is the reason behind his sadness? I ponder, my heart aching for him.
A recollection abruptly emerges of a little child with a stutter earnestly attempting to recite a poetry, with a few sorrowful tears cascading down his cheeks as he falters through his lines.
“You are the young boy from my dreams…” I whisper, a gentle grin forming on my lips as I turn to confront him. “You once recited poetry to me… You would become exceedingly frustrated when you mispronounced a word…” I murmur, snapping my fingers in contemplation. “You’re all grown up now, aren’t you?I express my increasing enthusiasm at encountering a somebody from my past.
…Perhaps he can provide us with greater insight into you than John can… my wolf, Tinka murmurs.
The man’s eyes well with tears, his silence rendering me somewhat uneasy, yet I persist, resolute in my quest to ascertain his identity.
“You are quite attractive,” I remark, maintaining my grin despite the man’s silent gaze.
Am I causing him discomfort?
“Is she your companion?” “I enquire, directing my attention to the young woman beside him, who is grasping his arm.” “She’s very beautiful,” I smile, hoping to provoke a reaction from either of them. The young woman grins at me but I can tell she and I have never met by the way she looks at me.
I glance at the petite elderly woman, her brows knitted in fury towards John and me, my heart racing at her evident disdain.
Did I offend her in a previous existence?
“Who are you?” “I enquire of her, the diminutive woman shaking her head in response.”
“Honey, will you sit down, please?John exhales audibly, directing me to the chair.
He beckons for the young man to sit as well, but he refuses to move an inch, absolutely frozen by his feelings. The yearning in his gaze stirs an emotion inside me, one that is both affectionate and pristine, reminiscent of the comfort derived from sitting beside a fireplace on a frigid winter night, where the flickering flames caress my being, wrapping me in their protective warmth.
“What is my significance to you?” “ I whisper, a nauseating feeling growing in my belly when a pained look flashes in his eyes.
“Y-you don’t …. Do you not recognise my identity?He whispers after an extended quiet, his words piercing my heart with their sorrow.
Guilt pours over me as his anguish rises with my silence and I close my eyes to concentrate, willing my memories to come back to me, but all I see is an empty nothingness.
“It’s okay, Quinn,” John says via mind-link, his voice quiet and calming. “Refrain from exerting yourself excessively.” Your recollections will resurface when you are prepared.
This is why I adore my hubby so much. He is the voice of reason when I feel so absolutely lost and useless. He is my steadfast support, my sanctuary, my affection.
“Allow me to introduce you two,” John states, indicating towards Matt and me. John throws his arms around my waist and pulls me to his side, the young man watching us in absolute disbelief. “This is my wife, Quinn, and my son, Matt,” he remarked with a smile. “Quinn, this is Jadi, his mother Melina, and his partner, Ricky,” he says, pointing to the man, his mate and his mother.
John then points to a beautiful woman with long white hair and gorgeous honey eyes. I feel the impulse to show respect to her and bend over in a deep bow together with Matt.
