Name after name was called, and the reactions varied. Some individuals displayed embarrassment, while others seemed visibly angry. The most unsettling reaction Beta Carter was currently observing was unfolding before him. He knew of Ryan's situation. But the alpha demanded every name he called. Even if there was no family to collect them.
"Ryan Hunt," Beta Carter announced.
Ryan, who was seated next to Trinity and Jess, stiffened. He had desperately hoped his name would be skipped. The prospect of getting up filled him with dread. He knew it was futile to resist, and a headache began to throb behind his eyes. Rubbing the back of his neck, he felt the weight of expectant gazes demanding his response. Trinity and Jess exchanged a knowing look; this reunion would be unlike the others. Ryan remained rooted to his spot, while all eyes in the room remained fixed on him.
Trinity squeezed his hand, attempting to offer some solace. Ryan recoiled at the thought of walking to the stage, only for them to announce to everyone that his family was dead. His only living relative was his brother, whose whereabouts were unknown. A part of him wanted his brother to search for him, yet another part wished he wouldn't. If his brother came here, Ryan feared they would kill him, leaving him truly alone—a reality he couldn't bear to contemplate.
Finally, Ryan stood, but he didn't move towards the stage. He took a deep breath, attempting to steady himself, and then spoke, his voice clear and loud. "My parents are both dead. I only have a brother, and he is not here." With that, he sat back down, clenching his teeth and trying to ignore the looks of pity directed his way. He couldn't stand the thought of someone else authoring his story. He didn't want their pity. In a way, he considered himself lucky. His parents had chosen to become rogues to keep their family together, rather than succumb to the pack's pressures.
He resented their pity because he believed he didn't deserve it. His life had been shaped by experiences they couldn't comprehend. When his parents discovered he was defective, they made the difficult decision to leave the pack. As rogues, they were forbidden from entering any other pack's territory, facing death if they did. They were constantly on the run, hiding until they finally settled among humans. This, to Ryan, was far from abandonment. His parents were extraordinary; they had weakened their wolves and severed their connection to their home, all to keep their family intact, risking the madness that afflicted wolves without a pack structure.
The reason not every wolf leaves to become a rogue wasn't simply because it was unfavorable. It often led to a form of madness. Being trapped by concrete and unnatural substances stifled their animal instincts. Moreover, wolves were social creatures, and isolated wolves could become vicious and bloodthirsty, their minds becoming unnaturally solitary. It was a slow descent into madness.
His parents had risked this madness for him. They were fortunate because with his brother, there were three of them, which helped reinforce a pack hierarchy: his father as the alpha, his mother as the beta, and his brother as a warrior.
Life as rogues was challenging. Sometimes they would encounter other rogue families and form small communities, only to have to relocate for their safety if someone did something that led to death.
Ryan considered himself lucky. His parents had loved him enough to leave with him and his brother. Pity was not something he felt he deserved, having lived a life those at this table couldn't imagine. Every defective present had been deprived of a familiar bond. At this table, Ryan felt fortunate, even spoiled.
Beta Carter offered Ryan a small smile. He remembered Ryan's family. He recalled being part of the group that had gone to hunt them down and his decision to let them go. He understood their choice; it was the same one he anticipated having to make soon, knowing his own daughter had also been born defective.
Beta Carter moved on to the next name. "Jess Dean."
Jess's palms were sweaty, and her heart pounded in her chest. She was filled with excitement. She had long ago given up the dream of ever meeting her family. But the yearning to know what it felt like to belong, to be safe, had never truly left her.
She practically leaped to her feet, her eagerness overriding her fear and uncertainty about what to expect. She was thrilled at the prospect of meeting her family. She didn't know their names, or even if she had any siblings. Pushing her blue hair behind her ears, she hoped for a happy reunion. As she walked towards the stage, she stood next to the beta, her eyes scanning the crowd, searching every face, wondering which family was hers, who would embrace her.
Trinity couldn't suppress the frown that creased her face as she watched Jess's eagerness. She couldn't comprehend their vastly different reactions. Trinity had no desire to connect with people who had discarded her after everything she had endured. Jess, who had experienced similar hardships, was filled with hope. As they had grown older, Trinity felt a growing irritation whenever she witnessed Jess's bright smiles and easygoing nature. Jess trusted easily and loved deeply, while Trinity felt trapped within herself, finding freedom only with a select few. Though she could laugh and smile readily, she harbored a deep distrust of people, always anticipating the worst before they had a chance to prove her wrong.
A murmur rippled through the surrounding crowd as they heard the surname. No one had known that the Dean family had given birth to a defective. They weren't just any family; the Dean family was thought of as the best and with the most guardians, some of the strongest wolves in the pack. They carried themselves with an air of superiority over everyone except the alpha, constantly boasting about their bloodline, claiming descent not only from alphas but also from a previous red moon queen—claims that afforded them significant status within the pack.
The Dean family rose to their feet. The gazes of the pack members shifted, their expressions changing. Margret Dean bristled at the scornful looks directed at her family. She knew they would relish this news, eager to see her proud and distinguished family humbled. It only made her hold her head higher, refusing to be belittled by what she considered a mistake of nature.
Hank Dean and Margret Dean, appearing to be in their mid-forties, stood up. Following them were two younger individuals, a son and a daughter.
Jimmy stood beside his parents, trying to maintain the stoic facade his parents had instructed him and his sister to adopt. However, he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He had seen her the day she arrived, or rather, he had noticed her distinctive hair as her back was turned to him.
Jess didn't realize the extent of her smile until it slowly began to fade. The people she was meant to call her parents looked ashamed, their eyes darting around frantically as if trying to evade the judgment of others, desperately clinging to a dwindling pride but ultimately failing. Her sister wore a look of confusion, as if unaware she had an older sister who had been a defective they threw away. But the eldest, her brother, seemed conflicted. He would offer a brief smile only to have it vanish as he attempted to take a step forward, his father's large hand on his shoulder halting him.
Jess felt an overwhelming urge to disappear. They didn't want her; they had never intended for her to return. She could feel it in their demeanor. It made her feel stupid. For overlooking the obvious. With slumped shoulders, she walked towards their table, mimicking the others whose families had rejected them, slinking over to sit beside people who likely wished she still didn't exist, remaining in the exiled state they had erased from their lives.
She didn't bother to speak to them; their unwelcoming faces conveyed more than enough. She simply sat down in the empty chair, her eyes downcast, her heart clenching painfully. She felt as though she could die on the spot, and a part of her almost wished she would. Not a day had passed when she hadn't thought about her family, imagining what it would be like to reunite with them, how they would realize they never truly wanted to let her go, that she was accepted.
"I'm Johnny," her brother said softly, offering her a small smile before wincing, as if someone had struck him.
Jess felt overwhelmingly embarrassed and kept her head lowered, the curtain of her blue hair shielding her face. But at her brother's words, she offered a small, soft smile, the most inconspicuous upturn of her lips. She murmured a quiet "Hi" in return, only to see him wince as if someone had kicked him under the table. Not wanting to make his situation more awkward, she kept her head down and waited for the next name to be called, trying to avoid curling in on herself too noticeably.
Trinity watched the reunion unfold, and anger simmered within her. She wished Jess hadn't been so happy, so excited, so full of preconceptions. Hope, in Trinity's experience, only led to hurt and unmet expectations. Jess was the forgiving type, and all she seemed to crave was love and acceptance. Perhaps that was why they weren't as close anymore. Trinity knew Ryan was her own chance at finding the acceptance she longed for, but she couldn't quite decipher the dynamic between him and Jess. To be fair, there was an ambiguity between them, but Trinity believed it stemmed from their shared history, not a budding romance. Whatever had gone wrong between Ryan and Jess, Trinity knew she hadn't played a part in it.
"Trinity Carter," Beta Carter announced, his voice clear.
He didn't pause at the unfavorable reunion he had just witnessed. Excitement was discernible in his tone, unlike the way he had called out the other names. Trinity felt a knot of nervousness in her stomach, but having observed the others, she felt somewhat prepared. Standing up, she walked towards the stage, standing next to the beta as everyone else had done. Her eyes scanned the crowd, wondering who would rise, who would claim her. The non-abducted individuals kept their gazes fixed on the stage, as if there was nowhere else to look.
But the longer she stood there, the more she noticed that no one stood up. A chilling thought crossed her mind: had her family died? But the looks of shock on the faces around her weren't the same sad, pitying stares they had given Ryan. This was genuine surprise.
Turning her head, she looked at the beta who had called her name, seeking some explanation. He was smiling down at her. The man was a giant. Trinity, at a healthy five foot ten, was by no means short, but this man made her feel like a shrimp. He had to be at least seven feet tall. She had to crane her neck to meet his eyes.
"I'm your dad," Beta Carter finally spoke, the words he had longed to say to his daughter for so long. He was her father; she was his, a part of his family.
Beta Carter couldn't help himself. His sweet little girl was right in front of him. His heart soared, beating rapidly in his chest with joy. His wolf howled in delight at finally having his pup back. He knew she was angry; he could smell it radiating off her like a burning flame. But he was determined to make things right between them. Despite the nagging feeling that he might be making the wrong move, he pulled her into his arms, embracing her tightly. He inhaled the scent of his daughter, though it was currently overshadowed by her hatred. At that moment, however, he didn't care that she remained stiff and unresponsive in his arms; his happiness was enough for both of them. He was simply thrilled.
Trinity felt her entire body seize. Every feeling and emotion within her sputtered. When Beta Carter presumptuously hugged her, it felt like an insult rather than a homecoming. She kept her arms rigidly at her sides, refusing to return the embrace. Her skin prickled with discomfort; she desperately wanted to crawl out of it. It wasn't enough that he had discarded her without any regard for her safety, failing to ensure she ended up somewhere secure. Now, he had the audacity to touch her, to hug her as if they shared some familiar bond. In that moment, she wished she were someone else, someone bold and reckless. She felt foolish for not even realizing they shared the same last name, never once considering that he could be the one, that he was her father. The numerous times he had looked at her when she first arrived should have triggered a warning in her mind, but it never did. She had actually thought he was nice. The moment he released her, she took a step back.
The anger inside Trinity erupted, though her face remained neutral and unchanged. Her anger was palpable, radiating from her. This man was her father. They had already met, and he hadn't said a word. He had been there the very moment she arrived and had remained silent, waiting until they were in front of everyone to pretend to be excited to see the daughter he had ignored all day. She wished she were someone else, someone bold enough to act on her emotions, to scream in his face or spit on him. But she wasn't that kind of person; she was always cautious.
A woman at one of the nearby tables stood up. She looks like me, Trinity thought. They shared the same large, doe-like eyes and black hair. Their face shapes were almost identical. It was clear to Trinity that these people didn't care for her. When her name was called, her mother hadn't even stood up. Even now, on her feet, she looked coldly at Trinity. There was no warmth of a mother in her gaze; it felt as if the woman was looking straight through her.
Trinity knew she was supposed to sit at their table, as everyone else had done. But the thought of it made her feel sick. He had stood at the front of all these people, knowing exactly who she was, and hadn't uttered a single word to her.
Didn't say a word. Trinity never liked to speak when she was angry; she was afraid of the terrible things she might say. Turning away from her supposed family, she walked back to the defectives' table and sat next to Ryan as if nothing had happened. People around her looked shocked and outraged. She knew her father, Beta Carter, was important, someone everyone listened to. But she didn't care.
When she returned to the table, Ryan immediately pulled her close, resting his hand comfortably on her shoulder. She leaned into his side, wishing she could be anywhere else.
The onlookers seemed to grasp some unspoken understanding, which appeared to temper their judgment of her disrespectful actions.
Boris had anticipated sadness, excitement, perhaps some hesitation. But all he had sensed from his daughter since her arrival were extremes: extreme fear and extreme hatred. His daughter was not subtle; that much he had quickly learned. The scent of her hatred was so potent it was almost overwhelming, permeating the area and clogging everyone's senses with its intense sharpness.
When she was back in Ryan's arms, her father noticed that the potent smell receded. It was still faintly there, but one had to strain to detect it. Somehow, the boy seemed to calm her instantly. The strong, acrid scent of anger that had been like the pungent smell of a ghost pepper in his nose had vanished.
He felt at a loss, unsure of how to proceed. He desperately wanted to take her home, but he wasn't certain she would be willing. And then there was her mate to consider. He longed to get to know his daughter, without her mate's constant presence.
Sorry for the delay. Work is quite hectic.