CHAPTER 181: REUNION GONE WRONG...

Rhett

My father walked into the room. His eyes were shining with rage, not just anger, but pure, white-hot fury. I’d seen my father upset before, annoyed even, but I had never, ever seen him like this.

"Get out," he commanded. "Leave now, or I will have security throw you out."

I froze, still sitting in the chair, while my mother slowly stood with a dignity that surprised me, given the circumstances. She didn’t flinch or cower. Instead, she brushed the tears from her cheeks, squared her shoulders, and looked him dead in the eye.

"Don’t be silly, Terry," she said calmly. "I’ll leave. I have no intention of staying. I only came to save my son."

Her eyes slid past my father to the empty hallway behind him. A small, knowing smile crossed her face.

"I’m surprised your little master isn’t towing behind you," she remarked casually.

I knew instantly who she was talking about. It was Clara, my stepmother—the woman who’d replaced her.

"They’re getting a divorce!" I blurted before I could stop myself.

My father’s head whipped toward me, and the glare he fixed me with was absolutely poisonous, so that I actually flinched.

Before I could shrink into the chair, he strode forward and gripped my arm, dragging me to my feet, intending to drag me out of the room.

But my mother was faster. Her hand shot out and grabbed my other arm, holding me in place.

"No. Not this time," her voice shook. "I’ve stayed on the sidelines all these years. I let you and your family make decisions for me." Her voice had changed, and it sounded fiercer. "But I won’t anymore. I won’t stand by and watch my child destroyed by your choices. I am his mother, Terry, whether you like it or not, and I will protect him."

My father laughed dryly. "Protect him? That’s rich coming from you. After all the lies, after going against our mate bond..."

"For the billionth time, Terry," My mother interrupted, gritting her teeth in annoyance. "I didn’t cheat on you. I told you, Grandfather put me up to it, plus those pictures were fake. I loved you."

"Love?" my father scoffed. "You love me, Elena and yet you choose to hurt me for years. Besides, you lost that right to become my son’s mother. Are you done selling yourself on the streets, Elena? Do you think I don’t know? Do you think I haven’t heard the rumours about where you’ve been? The jobs you’ve taken? Is business finally slow enough that you can pretend to be a mother?"

My mother’s face went pale, then flushed red with anger. "How dare you! I did what I had to do to survive after your family threw me out with nothing! What was I supposed to do? Starve?"

His grip on my arm tightened, and his voice lowered to a growl. "Don’t you dare twist this back to me. I was ready to cut myself off from my family for you. I was ready to give up everything. But you—" he jabbed a finger toward her "—you broke our bond. You spat on it. You lied about another man. You made me believe you never loved me."

Tears welled up in my mom’s eyes, but she cleared her throat and pushed it away. "Because if I told the truth, you would have followed me. And you would have starved with me. You would have wasted your life chasing after an Omega who had nothing to offer but love. And love wasn’t enough for the Thatchers, was it?"

My father’s chest heaved as he stared at her for a few seconds before continuing.

"You could have stayed away!" my father roared. "You could have left us in peace instead of coming back now, when everything is finally settled!"

"Settled?" My mother’s voice rose to match his. "Our son is dying, Terry! And you call that settled?"

"He was doing fine until you showed up!"

"He was dying! He’s still dying! Don’t you understand that?"

My father took a step closer, and I could see a vein pulsing in his temple. "You think I don’t know that? You think I haven’t been doing everything in my power to save him?"

"Everything except accepting help from me!" my mother shot back. "Your pride is going to kill your son!"

"My pride? MY pride?" My father’s voice cracked. "You’re the one who destroyed everything! You’re the one who lied, who cheated—"

"I never cheated on you! How many times do I have to say it?" My mother was crying now, angry tears streaming down her face. "Never! That was all your family’s doing! They faked those photos, Terry! They made it all up because they couldn’t stand having an Omega in their precious bloodline!"

"Don’t you dare blame my family for your mistakes!"

"I made one mistake—I lied about being an Omega because I loved you! That was it! Everything else, every horrible thing that happened after, that was your family’s doing!"

"You broke our bond, Elena! You told me you loved someone else!"

"Because they threatened to cut off all funding for Rhett’s treatment!" My mother’s voice broke. "Because your father told me that if I didn’t leave, if I didn’t make you hate me enough to let me go, they would let our son die! What choice did I have?"

The room fell silent except for my mother’s ragged breathing and my father’s heavy, angry pants.

I sat there between them, watching this unfold as if I were observing a play. And the strangest thing was, I found it fascinating. My father, who never raised his voice, who never showed more than mild irritation, was riled up like a young wolf fresh from a fight. His anger was alive and raw.

He was a perfect Alpha, always dignified and composed.

I had never seen him lose control like this. Never seen him shout, or cry, or show this much emotion about anything.

It was almost funny, in a twisted way. The great Terry Thatcher, reduced to screaming in a hospital office over a woman he claimed to hate.

He didn’t hate her, I realised. Not even close.

"Okay," I said, cutting through their argument. Both of them turned to look at me like they’d forgotten I was there. "Okay, you’re both making everyone incredibly uncomfortable, and honestly, this is not the place for this conversation."

"Rhett—" my father started.

"No, listen," I interrupted. "Whatever happened between you two, whatever mess you made of things twenty years ago—I have a right to know the real story. The whole story. Not the version the Thatcher family told me, and not whatever half-truths you’re both throwing at each other right now."

I looked between them. "So let’s take this home. To the pack house. We’ll sit down like civilised people, and you can both tell me everything."

"Absolutely not," my father said immediately. "She is not setting foot in my home."

"It’s not just your home," I said, surprised by the firmness in my own voice. "It’s mine too. And I’m inviting her. I have questions, and I want answers from both of you. Together. So we’re all going home, and we’re going to sort this out."

My father looked like he wanted to argue, but something in my expression must have convinced him. He let out a long, frustrated breath.

"Fine," he bit out. "Fine. But this changes nothing."

"We’ll see about that," my mother said quietly.

***

The car ride home was suffocating in its silence. I sat in the back seat of my father’s car while my mother followed behind in her own vehicle. My father’s hands were white-knuckled on the steering wheel; his jaw was clenched so tight that I thought his teeth might crack.

I pulled out my phone and opened the group chat—the one with Charis, Slater, and Kael. My fingers hesitated over the keyboard for a moment before I started typing.

My birth mother suddenly showed up today... Everything is in chaos. I need help.

The response was almost immediate. Slater’s message popped up first.

On my way. I’m coming with Charis.

After that, Kael sent a voice note. I pressed play, holding the phone to my ear.

I can’t come. I’m in the middle of dealing with urgent matters. Handle it without me.

Of course. Typical Kael.

I typed back a quick thanks and pocketed my phone. At least I’d have some backup when we got home.

When we pulled up to the pack house, I was relieved to see Slater’s car already in the driveway. He and Charis were leaning against it, clearly waiting for us. They both straightened when they saw us arrive.

My father got out of the car without a word and stalked toward the house. My mother parked behind us and got out more slowly, looking uncertain for the first time since she’d appeared at the hospital.

I climbed out and immediately headed for Slater and Charis. They met me halfway, both of them looking concerned.

"You okay?" Slater asked, studying my face.

"I’m fine," I said, and I was surprised to realise I meant it. "Actually, I’m in a pretty good mood, all things considered."

Charis raised an eyebrow. "Your birth mother shows up out of nowhere and you’re in a good mood?"

I shrugged. "It’s been an interesting day. Plus, I think I’m finally going to get some real answers about my life. That’s worth something."