Page 67 of Brutal Reign
Stuffing my chapstick back into my pocket, I draw a deep breath, turning to face her. “Dad wants me to leave training camp.”
She snorts a wry laugh. “And this is news to you?” she asks, cocking a brow.
“Well, no,” I grumble. “But…” I trail off with a grunt of frustration, waving a hand. “It’s this whole challenge. He seems to think that if we just work with my wolf to prepare for it, this won’t end how we all know it will.”
Mom winces, her blue eyes rounding in sympathy behind the lenses of her black-framed glasses. “Well… it can’t hurt to try, right?” she suggests.
“So you’re on his side?” I spit, cutting her a glare.
“I’m on the side of whatever gets you through this with as little collateral damage as possible,” she states calmly, holding eye contact.
I avert my gaze, shaking my head with a scowl. “Jake’s not leaving training camp to prep for the challenge."
“Jake’s obviously not making sound decisions right now,” she replies.
“At least he gets to make hisown,” I mutter, staring down at my lap.
Mom sighs, shifting closer to me. “Honey, I know this is a lot to deal with…”
“You have no idea,” I snort.
She reaches out for my hand, taking it between her own. The warmth of her palms radiates into my skin as I lift my head to meet her eyes again. “Just talk to me, Riv,” she implores. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”
I yank my hand back, pushing up from the couch and pacing across the room. My head’s a mess right now, but I can still hear my Aunt Fallon’s words echoing through it as I pivot around to face my mom again. Maybe she’s right; maybe Ishouldconfide in her about what’s been going on. She’s always calm and rational– the opposite of my father. If anyone can help me sort through this, it’sher.
Dragging my hands through my hair, I pace back in my mother’s direction, working up the courage to come clean. “The challenge wasn’t the only thing that happened during the full moon,” I choke out past the lump in my throat, my voice a strained rasp.
Mom’s brows shoot up, her mouth rounding in shock. She quickly recovers her composure, staring into my eyes as she murmurs, “Are you saying…”
I jerk a nod. In our culture, the first thing that comes to mind at the mention of the full moon is the forging of mate bonds, so no further explanation is needed.
My mom nods slowly, drawing a steadying breath before she asks, “Who?”
“Seb Walker.”
She continues nodding, remaining calm and composed as ever. “I see.”
“And Ace Conway.”
Her composure cracks and she flinches slightly, blinking back at me in confusion. “How…?”
“I’ve been asking myself the same thing,” I grumble, averting my gaze and kicking the toe of my boot against the floor. “It shouldn’t be possible, but I’m bonded to both of them.”
Mom’s throat bobs with a thick swallow, as if she’s digesting the information. There’s no judgment in her gaze when I dare to meet it again, though; no disgust or resentment. All I see is caring concern as she opens up her arms, softly murmuring, “Come here.”
I don’t even realize how badly I need her hug until I cross the room to claim it. Dropping down beside her on the couch, my mom pulls me into her embrace, her arms circling me tightly as she squeezes my body against hers.
“It’s gonna be okay, baby,” she coos, and I sniffle, belatedly realizing that tears are wetting my cheeks.
When did I start crying?
I pull away from her embrace, sheepishly wiping the tears from my face. “I don’t know what to do, Mom,” I admit, desperation hollowing out my chest. “I mean, fate must’ve screwed up, right?”
She gazes upon me thoughtfully for a moment before giving a little shake of her head. “Fate always has a plan, sweetie,” she replies softly, reaching over to sweep a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Sometimes it’s just hard to see it.”
“Easy for you to say,” I scoff dejectedly. “You weren’t given two mates.”
“No, but your dad and I weren’t exactly on good terms when our bond snapped in.”