Werewolf Compilations

Chapter 73

Alpha Grant

I remember the day my mother died. I was young. My father told me to wait in my bedroom while she

was taken from the bathtub. Noises came through the door as my father led two men into their

bedroom, into the bathroom where her dead body was. They carried her out—I heard them come down

the hall—and an hour later one of the house workers came to get me for dinner like nothing had

happened.

I told the woman, Theresa, to wait for me downstairs because I wanted to change my clothes. When Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

she was gone I went into my parent's bathroom and stared into the tub as if it was a gateway to hell.

The water was marbled with her blood and slowly turned to a pool of unearthly ruby. I stepped in and

sat down in the mixture of my mother and the bathwater until Theresa found me and pulled me out. I

remember the water was warm and reeked of iron.

Years later my father told me that Mates make you weak. He told me that he'd made the mistake of

letting my mother in, but once he did, he had set himself up for ruin. He told me that Mates die, and

once they do, you die with them.

My father told me to never have a Mate. He told me this until he died a year after I took over the pack.

Once she brought the knife to her neck, I knew she was like my mother, I knew she would ruin me. She

is just like her. My mother was emotional, dramatic, beautiful, depressed, loving, defensive and testing

when needed. My father gave in, that was his mistake.

She tested me today—she is always testing me—and I almost lost it.

I could give in like my father. I could love her, I could really love her. But it is too late. If I let her in now,

the past would repeat itself. My father treated my mother like I am treating her, in the beginning. Then

he gave in, but she was still broken from the time before, she was mentally tainted from the distancing

and reject. In the end, she died because of what happened before my father let her in.

I have tainted her. It is too late. She will always be broken if I keep her. If I let her in now, I will lose her.

I need to set her free, she needs to heal, but something inside of me can't. I can't let her go. I am

selfish.