His voice was steady, and there was a touch of reverence in it that made my chest tighten.
“Sorry I haven’t come often,” he continued. “I spent some time on Dad’s private island.”
He plopped down on the slightly damp earth and crossed his legs. “You’ll never believe what’s been happening,” he said, excitement creeping into his voice. “Mom won a really huge competition. She was really amazing! You should’ve seen her.”
“Daniel,” I murmured, but he only smiled up at me.
“He should know,” he said. “I want him to be proud of you, too.”
I pressed my lips tightly, looking away as tears pricked my eyes.
Pride.
Would my father be proud of me if he were alive to witness the LST? Would he have mocked me for daring such an impossible-seeming dream? Or would he have just carried on ignoring me, indifferent to my efforts and achievements?
I thought back to the dream I’d had. How he’d declared I was meant for greatness and was going to be some kind of hero.
‘Remember, little wolf. You were always meant for more.’
I still didn’t know if that had been real or desperate wistfulness.
Had he really once believed in me so fiercely? Or had I always been an embarrassing disappointment?
So many questions; no way of getting answers.
We stayed for a while, Daniel chatting freely to the photograph as if his grandfather could hear him.
I didn’t interrupt. I let him gloat about me to his heart’s content, knowing his grandfather couldn’t hear him.
Part of me wanted to let him believe it-that the dead could listen. Maybe I wanted to believe it too. That maybe, somewhere in the ether, my father could hear this. That he could be proud.
When Daniel finished, he rose to his feet and looked at me expectantly.
I crouched beside him, pressing a hand against the cool gravestone. “Goodbye, Father,” I murmured. “Wherever you are, I hope…”
I didn’t know what I hoped. All my hopes and dreams concerning my father died when he did.
“I hope you’re at peace,” I finished softly.
Just as I rose, a voice broke the quiet.
“Sera.”
The voice was soft, tremulous, familiar.
I turned.
Margaret Lockwood stood a few meters away, a thin veil drawn loosely over her hair. She wore black and held a single white lily in her gloved hands.
No attendants followed her. I couldn’t see a car idling at the gate. Just her-small and solitary against the vast expanse of gray stone and green grass.
The Lockwood estate wasn’t far from here. Had she walked? How often did she come here? Had this become routine?
For a second, neither of us spoke. I thought of the last time I’d seen her, holding pie on my porch like a cruel trick of the mind.
Every time I saw her, she looked older. Deeper lines on her face, heavier shadows under her eyes, more silver threading through her hair. She looked like her very bones bore exhaustion.
It was like she was withering away before our eyes.
“You’re here alone?” I asked finally.
She gave a small smile “I prefer it that way. Your father’s company is all I need.”
Her voice was calm, almost gentle, but the faint tremor in it didn’t escape me. The sharpness I’d always associated with her seemed blunted, worn down by time and grief.
Daniel looked up at her and gave her his signature warm smile. “Hi, Grandma.”
Margaret’s face lit up. “Hello, my love.”
She spread her arms expectantly, and Daniel looked up at me in question.
I nudged him gently. “Go on, hug your grandmother.”
He shot off towards her, but he was careful not to slam into her as he wrapped his arms around her thin waist.
She bent-slowly, like every motion cost her-and gathered him into her arms. The years seemed to fall away from her as she held him, her voice thick with tenderness. “Oh, look at you. You’ve grown taller, haven’t you?”
“I think so.” Daniel said proudly. “Mom says I might be taller than her soon.”
My mother laughed softly, brushing his hair back. “You have strong Lockwood genes. Of course you’ll be tall. Strong, too.”
A strange pang went through me-not quite envy, not quite regret. That foolish longing again.
Daniel beamed. “I missed you, Grandma.”
Her eyes went glassy. “Oh, I missed you too, love.”
She pulled him back in, tucking him into her side as her gaze lifted to me again.
“Congratulations on winning the LST,” she said softly. “I’m so proud of you, dear.”
I wanted to tell her that I didn’t need her congratulations. I didn’t need her pride.
But my traitorous heart lurched, and I gave a stiff nod. “Thanks.”
“Would you…come by the estate? For a little while. It’s been so long since we were under the same roof.”
Her request was unlike the last time she’d asked. No entitlement, just…earnest longing. Like my presence in her home was the one thing she wanted most in the world.
I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to walk those halls again, to breathe in that air that had reeked of stigma and judgment.
But when I looked at my mother-really looked-I saw something fragile there. Not manipulation, not guilt. Just…loneliness.
That huge house, those vast halls. Sure, there were a ton of servants, but where it counted, she was all alone.
“Alright,” I said quietly. “Just for a bit.”
SERAPHINA’S POV
It had been more than a decade since I’d last driven down the long, cobblestone path to the Lockwood estate.
The gates loomed just as I remembered them-tall, wrought iron bars curling into elegant, merciless shapes.
Once, I used to think they looked like vines protecting a sanctuary. Now, I saw only the prison they were.
The gates creaked open as we approached, their slow groan slicing through the quiet afternoon air.
Daniel was practically bouncing in his seat, his face pressed against the window as the familiar expanse unfolded before us.
My fingers tightened around the steering wheel. The manor was as imposing as ever-gray-bricked, symmetrical, magnificent. The slate roof glinted faintly under the late afternoon sun, the pale stone fa?ade catching light in that same proud, cold way.
The sight of my childhood home should have filled me with nostalgia. Instead, I just felt hollow.
The car rolled to a stop in front of the grand entrance.
As I got out of the car and Daniel helped my mother out of the backseat, the front door opened and two Omega servants stepped out.
At the sight of me, they did a double-take.
I couldn’t blame them. My presence here was probably akin to seeing a ghost.
Daniel, my sweet, helpful boy, helped his grandmother up the stairs, his hands firmly on her waist like he could catch her if she stumbled.
She smiled at him with a tenderness that wrapped around my heart and squeezed.
More Kickass Werewolf Reads
Dive into our collection of free werewolf romance novels—where fierce Alphas, daring heroines, and heart-stopping twists await. Every story burns with forbidden desire, loyalty, and destiny. Don’t wait—here’s a world where love bites hard and nothing is stronger than the call of the mate.
Leave a Reply