Alana placed her designer purse, a stiff, structured thing of gleaming black leather, on the polished surface of the coffee table. She smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from her pristine white couch before settling herself precisely in the center, one perfectly manicured leg crossed over the other. Her black hair, still tightly bound in a bun from work, felt heavy against her scalp.
After her earlier conversation with Boris, Alana now faced the unwelcome prospect of another unwilling one, this time with her new houseguest. The longer she waited for Trinity, the more annoyance coiled in her stomach. There was no legitimate reason for Trinity to take so long; she wasn't as if she had anything else to do today. Defectives moved slowly, she thought with a snobbish curl of her lip, but this was ridiculous. How long did the girl expect her to wait?
As Alana's irritation grew heavier, she finally heard Trinity's door open, followed by the faint, earthy scent that announced her presence. Finally, she thought, deigning to grace me with her presence. She listened as soft feet padded against the staircase, taking their maddeningly slow time descending.
"In here," Alana called, a sharp, undeniable bite lacing her words.
Entering the cavernous living room, Trinity saw Alana seated in the center of the largest couch, legs crossed, arms primly folded in her lap. A poisonous glare was already aimed at her face. For a woman who had barely spoken to her, Alana certainly conveyed a lot, Trinity thought. She sat across from her mother, and the silence in the room echoed mockingly, daring one of them to speak first. Trinity decided it wouldn't be her; she was merely there to get information.
But the longer she sat, the more she truly observed the woman across from her: her frigid posture, the palpable chill she emitted. She didn't seem maternal in the slightest. This was her mother, less than two meters away, and Trinity could have sworn it was anyone else. In a way, it made her cherish Boris more. She was in no position to forgive his abandonment, but she didn't get this suffocating feeling around him. Boris radiated love and joy and light. He was kind, and even through everything, being around Boris felt like... like what it would have been like to have a father who loved her. It made her heart feel light in a way she'd never known.
Alana looked at Trinity, struggling to conceal her disdain and discomfort. She was only here because Boris had practically commanded it. If it wasn't for her mate's relentless pressure, she wouldn't be having this, or any, conversation with Trinity. The only glimmer of happiness or hope that existed with having this girl back in their lives was the possibility of a second chance to be a mother—a real mother to a perfect child. She had long since buried the thought of having another child, but that small, deeply buried hope was beginning to bloom again. She just wanted a daughter or a son she could truly love. Because of that minuscule bead of hope, she did her best to temper the open hatred she felt towards Trinity.
"Your father wants me—" Alana began, only to be unceremoniously cut off by Trinity.
"I didn't have a father or mother. You don't get to use those titles with me." Trinity couldn't help the words; they flew out on instinct. This woman who looked at her as if she were dirt beneath her foot really thought she could use words like "mother" and "father." The oppressive atmosphere Alana radiated made her feel small, and this was her only way of fighting back, however little. She didn't want the titles to imply they were closer to her, to insinuate they were what parents were supposed to be.
"You're right," Alana agreed, a small, almost imperceptible smile brimming at the corner of her lip, as if she found this exchange funny, or perhaps just accurate and amusing. Trinity didn't truly understand her yet. Alana spent her days meticulously pretending to be the perfect Beta's wife, a role she performed phenomenally after so many years of practice. But the last thing she wanted to do in her own home was playact. She wasn't this girl's mother, so the fact that Trinity didn't want to play some silly charade was perfectly fine with her.
"There are some basics you need to know. The heat happens maybe two, three times a year. For a she-wolf, especially unfortunately, it could be four. Pure wolves and defectives like yourself—" Alana was beginning to grow very sick of this girl cutting her off.
"What about me is so wrong?" Trinity asked, feeling more than a little offended. So many people kept calling her broken. Just because they used a word like "defective" as if it were common didn't make it any less rude, especially the way Alana had just casually said it, making Trinity's skin bristle. It was as if she were calling her useless.
"Okay," Alana said, accepting the challenge. "Wolves, or werewolves as most humans would call us, everyone here is a wolf. Everyone here, save a few newcomers, can shift into their wolf form." It didn't take much for Trinity to gather what she meant by "newcomers." "We all have a wolf spirit, given to us by our Goddess. We are all blessed by her, so we have the ability to shift. You do not. You do not have a wolf spirit. You're not strong. And if that wasn't enough, you do not have a pack link. The bond that binds us all together, that makes us protect our friends, neighbors. You do not have it. The pack protects what it knows, and we cannot see you." Alana looked at her for the first time with a flicker of something akin to pity, though it quickly vanished. Trinity didn't truly grasp how inept she was, but Alana would make sure she knew.
"It's why you're not really mine. I can't feel you. There are different kinds of bonds: the pack bond, the familial bond, and the mate bond. I have a mate bond with Boris; I can find him anywhere. I could feel him with my eyes closed. I cannot find you in a crowd of ten. I have the familial bond with my family, even though it gets weakened once you create a mate bond. I can still feel the tether between me and my parents. But that tether exists. Bonds are what connect us all. It is imperative that we have them. It makes you visible." Alana leaned forward on her seat, her gaze intense, wanting to ensure Trinity absorbed every word. "You are invisible to the pack, to your family. You are defective. It's not your fault, but that doesn't change anything. As wolves, we can telepathically speak to each other's minds. I can speak to any pack member, or I can use my mate link and speak directly to Boris no matter where he is."
Trinity felt her mind spin. It wasn't just what Alana said, but how it was all said. It was as if Alana wanted to drill into her mind that she wasn't supposed to be here. Even though it wasn't her fault she was defective, it felt like it was her fault she was defective.
Alana watched as Trinity digested all the information. She saw her own features in Trinity: the black hair they shared, the lean figure, the waves in her hair. But that was it. The eyes were Boris's, soft and sweet like his mother's. Yet, on Trinity, Alana felt angered by them. It was a affront to the family lineage to have her possess those eyes. She didn't deserve any part of them. The more Alana stared, the angrier she got, the more vengeful and spiteful she felt. Trinity simply shouldn't have existed. Alana felt as if she were having the hardest time, convinced no one could understand what it was like to be alone in your own home, unable to accept what didn't make sense when everyone else around you was simply crazy.
"That's why you always look at me like this. Because I'm broken," Trinity finally spoke, voicing the thought ringing in her mind.
Alana didn't answer. Her silence was her answer, the way her eyes landed on Trinity was her answer. Trinity refused to show hurt from Alana's words, from the silent reprimand. Alana had looked at her so plainly and told her that she was just wrong, that everything about her was wrong. And it hurt because even though she didn't have a bond with her mother, couldn't remember her, it hurt to know that someone—her mother, who was supposed to be the one who loved her the most—seemed to despise her the most, probably hated her as much as anyone ever had.
In that moment, Trinity knew that when the choice was presented, when Alana had the choice to get rid of her defective child, it wasn't a choice; it was a necessity for Alana to be rid of her, to have her out of her life, out of her sight, to move on. Trinity couldn't understand how someone like that could ever call herself a mother.
"Don't stop on my account. I'm here to be informed," Trinity said, trying to keep every bit of emotion out of her words. There was no point. She was already invisible to Alana.
"Now that the big things are out of the way," Alana said, a triumphant smile playing on her lips, knowing that Trinity understood exactly how she felt. "You're going into heat. Defectives to a lesser degree, not so much in your case."
"Why?" Trinity wanted to get as much information as she could, then never speak to her again.
Uncrossing her legs, Alana rose to her feet, feeling lighter. "I don't know why. If I were to speculate as a doctor, I would say it has to be your bloodline. Your father has Beta blood and Alpha blood. It seems it has probably activated some of your dormant wolf genes." She gestured dismissively with one hand. "The heat cycle for an Alpha or Beta female is intense. The smell can attract strong wolves. But it comes with equal amounts of pain. Luckily for you, a defective, you seem to rarely feel anything in a heat cycle."
"How will I know when I'm going into heat?" Trinity asked, suddenly losing her taste for this conversation.
"In full-blooded wolves, there are physical signs. Defectives, there are not. You'll need to know by the people around you. So you'll need to watch out for everyone's reaction."
"Okay, but what exactly is a heat?" Trinity knew how often a heat would happen, and why it was posing a threat to her, but she didn't know why it happened exactly—what it was.
"It's a call for procreation. If you are mated, only your mate can smell it, i.e., Boris and I. To make it simple, the heat is to encourage you to have sex in hopes of creating pups." Alana felt this conversation was excruciatingly tedious. "It's an invitation if you're unmated for any male to come and have sex with you."
Trinity felt that was just insane. Why would any goddess put that in your genes? Hey, strange person I've never met, come rip my clothes off. It was insane. "Can I stop it?" she wondered aloud.
"Can you stop breathing?" Alana retorted sarcastically, a hint of disdain in her voice.
She really was a bitch, Trinity thought. "Does it come on a schedule?"
"You never really know." Alana shrugged, being far more used to the concept of heat than Trinity. She genuinely didn't see the problem.
"This just happens! Forever?!" Trinity felt her heart begin to race. For the rest of her life, she needed to be worried about sending a sexual smoke signal?
"Find your mate and get marked by them. They'll be the only one to know. The bite creates a bond between you and them, which means your scent only belongs to them."
"I don't have a mate. What else can we do?" Trinity felt like she was reeling. What the hell was she going to do?
"I mean, if you have sex, it'll go away. For you, you'll probably need to do it a lot," Alana casually spelled out, as if she were telling a patient to take an aspirin. But it was the truth.
"Every time you have sex, your smell lessens. From what I hear, it is extremely potent, so it will be an active time."
Trinity felt a blush creep up her cheeks. Was Alana seriously telling her to go out there and get pounded by everyone? Was she out of her mind?
Picking up her purse, Alana felt she had told Trinity everything she needed to know and more. She was pleased with herself. She spoke to Boris telepathically: She knows now.
Trinity watched as Alana's eyes glazed over, the brown irises glowing brightly. Trinity had seen this happen a few times with other people. Now, knowing what she did, she assumed it had to be that telepathic thing. Alana was speaking to someone. As if to prove her right, Boris quickly entered the living room, a tight, forced smile on his face, only confirming to Trinity that this was indeed the telepathic link.
Boris looked between the two of them. He had hoped this would be a moment for Alana to bond with Trinity, to forge some kind of connection. Moving to his mate, he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her securely to his side. Trinity watched, a bit shocked, as the icy woman she had just had the most aggressive conversation with became light and happy so easily. Boris didn't even have to say anything; he just hugged her, and she was no longer a malicious… asshole.
"How are my girls?" Boris asked kindly.
Trinity felt momentarily stunned. After feeling the frigid bite of Alana for what felt like an eternity, to be lumped into their family unit as one of "his girls" was weird. She had just been told plainly that she was not a part of the family.
"Fine, just a lot to speak about," Alana was the first to answer, her tone far more neutral and light-hearted—something Trinity had never heard from her directed at her.
Trinity decided to remain silent. What was that age-old saying? If you had nothing nice to say, say nothing at all.
"Anything you don't understand?" Boris asked, a bit hesitantly.
"Nope, all clear. Looks like I need to be having a lot more sex," Trinity said without thinking.
"Oh, what?" Boris cleared his throat aggressively, looking down at Alana, who was still wrapped in his arms.
Alana tried to keep her face neutral, but on the inside, she had so many words to say to that girl. Boris looked at his daughter in complete horror. He linked his wife privately: Did you tell her that was one of the ways to bring down her scent? he asked, an edge to his voice.
Alana didn't bother responding in the link. She only gave a small smile and nodded before deciding she might as well just say it aloud. "Of course, you told me to inform her. She's informed."
And you think that was the right thing to do? Boris pressed in the link.
She's here! And has to be here. It's a reasonable method.
A week, maybe more, and you think it would be best for her? For me? For us to hear our daughter do that all day?
Whatever it takes. As long as she's able to leave, I think it's best.
Trinity watched the two, who were obviously having a silent conversation in their minds. She felt a bit amused by Alana, who seemed to be getting scolded at the moment. Boris looked very disturbed.
Finishing his conversation with his mate, Boris turned to Trinity, a look of utter business on his face. "No, no, no, no, no, no, no. Nope." Chuckling nervously, he pulled away from Alana and looked between the two of them again, only to shake his head emphatically. "No. Not happening. No."
Trinity couldn't help the small chuckle that left her lips. Boris's reaction was funny; it was cute and normal, what you'd expect from any dad. The fresh breeze of his parental care was like a healing balm to the earlier frostbite given by Alana.
"I was only kidding," Trinity said, saving Boris from his mental breakdown. "There's no one here I'd do that with."
Her words made Boris pause. He was confused. "What do you mean?" He felt a large amount of skepticism. "Not saying you should, but wouldn't it be Ryan, naturally?" he wondered, trying to make it clear he wasn't promoting anything at all.
Boris watched, transfixed, as his daughter smiled. It was a smile he had never seen before, and it made Boris's heart sting. She had never looked at him like that—never looked playful or happy or joyous in any way. It felt momentous, like something he wanted to remember and engrain in his mind for all time.
Alana watched in Boris's mind as he recreated the image of Trinity smiling for the first time. His thoughts were completely centered around it and her. Alana truly wished he would keep these kinds of things to himself. She didn't need him broadcasting things that only made her mad. She could barely stop her eyes from rolling.
Boris couldn't help broadcasting his daughter's beautiful smile back to Alana; it was all that was in his head at the moment.
"Ryan's my friend!" Trinity clarified.
"I thought he was your mate?" Boris felt himself finally understand why Ryan had said Trinity's heat was an awkward situation.
"Yeah, we've been friends for years." Trinity still couldn't understand why they assumed he was her mate. I mean, mate seemed like a big step. Boyfriend at bare minimum.
"Why the hell are you sharing a room with your male best friend?" Boris felt his anger rising at the thought.
Trinity was completely confused. She just slept in Ryan's room. "Because you guys only gave him one key card."
"But he was carrying you," Boris countered.
"I was unconscious."
"You two are... cozy." Boris refused to say anything that wasn't innocent in nature, but his meaning was clear.
"And! He's not my mate." Trinity felt stupefied. Did the heat make every guy think if you carry someone, you're automatically having sex? She felt like this whole thing was really odd. " That's just odd." Trinity laughed.
Getting up, Trinity felt a bit lighter. Boris definitely added some air to the room. With everything buzzing around her head, she really wanted to talk to Ryan and Jess. Tell them everything she had learned. It was like this knowledge took an imaginary pressure off her shoulders, and she could finally breathe and understand what her eyes were finally seeing.
Her mind wandered back to when the wolf had nearly crashed into them. The way the wolf shook as it turned back. The way it moved. Trinity felt her mind slipping, imaginary dots that she hadn't had the pieces to fill in felt like they were becoming complete.
Turning back to Boris, she asked him a question, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice. "Are there wolves that live in human society?" she wondered, her voice sounding quiet and weak.
"Of course," Boris noted the change in her, but didn't know why it had happened.
"They just come and go as they please?" Trinity felt her heart squeeze, wondering if she would just bump into him.
"No. Not exactly. There are lone wolves. They clump together. And there are rogues. All of them have been exiled from the pack in some form or fashion. Some just don't fit into pack life. Others are criminals. Most rogues are violent criminals."
Rogues are normally violent criminals, Trinity thought, the phrase bouncing around her mind.
"They escape punishment and live amongst the humans. If they come across any pack lands, they're most likely to be killed."
When they left me, they knew rogues could find me.
"You left them with us," Trinity muttered so quietly she didn't think she'd be heard.
Boris heard her, and his pain only deepened. "We don't just let them go. We have teams that go and hunt them. They're not free because they're in the human world; they're just harder to catch." Boris thought about what Ryan had told him that first night Trinity had experienced with rogues. Why she didn't forgive him. Why she couldn't.
"What do you know about rogues, T?" He used his old nickname for his daughter, hoping it would make her tell him the truth.
Trinity felt as if her chest was collapsing. She didn't know what to do. That's why when she first got here, she thought of him. Why she felt like they smelled the same. They're all wolves. "I don't... I don't know, I... umm... I have to go. Not outside, but away." Trinity felt her mind was scattered, and she couldn't arrange her thoughts properly.