Chapter Eleven: Candour
Everything happened very quickly after that.
Clara and her mother tumbled to the floor of the porch, the older woman still reeling from the shock of the blow. Wyatt and Alpha Duncan were yelling around them, but all she could focus on was her anger towards this woman. She tried to punch her again, but she was roughly yanked away by a pair of strong hands. The healing bite marks on her arms and legs burned from the exertion, but she didn’t even notice, yelling for Wyatt to let her go.
“What’s wrong with you?” he yelled back, half-lifting her up as he forcefully brought her back inside. He was angry and confused, sending worried glances towards her injured leg. Dylan was there in a second, taking her from her mate and lifting her slightly off of the ground as he swiftly moved up the stairs.
Clara could still hear the angry voices from downstairs as they entered her bedroom with haste, where she was ungracefully dropped on a chair. She hissed at the pain that jolted through her body, but her attention was soon diverted to Dylan’s shocked expression.
“What the hell, Clara?” he nearly yelled, shutting the door behind them.
She hopped up from where she sat, staggering towards it. “Open the door,” she demanded, “So I can kill her.” She meant every word. She would kill Sandra Mercer twice over. Dylan was clearly a little surprised at her vehemence, but stood still in front of the door.
“Do you know her?” he asked with incredulity. She nodded quickly, still eying the exit. “How? Who is she to you?”
Clara hesitated for a moment, sinking down onto the bed to take the weight off of her bad leg. “She’s my mother.” She finally said, her voice quieter but still full of spite.
Looking up, she saw the expression that was tonight commonplace on Dylan: shock. After a second, it turned to confusion.
“Why did you hit her?”
There was no hesitation to answer this. “She let my father be killed and almost did the same to me.”
More shock. He seemed like he was having a hard time comprehending this all, but instead of asking the inevitable questions, he turned and opened the door.
“I’m going to – speak to Wyatt.” He managed, shooting her one more bewildered look before disappearing. She heard the loud click as it locked behind him.
* * *
Clara paced the room impatiently, each step shooting fire through her leg. She didn’t care. Her blood was boiling with anger and impatience. When she’d heard the engine as Alpha Duncan and her mother drove away, she was almost disappointed at the missed opportunity to kill her.
Dylan had locked her in here almost thirty minutes ago, and her patience had worn thin. She couldn’t hear anything from downstairs, but assumed that he was telling Wyatt everything he’d heard from her.
She didn’t know what he would think. She hadn’t told him much about her past, but it seemed like now it was forcing itself upon him. More so, she didn’t know what she would do. Wyatt would never let her go after Sandra and start a war with that pack, but surely her mother would not let her live. It was probable that Duncan didn’t even know of their relation – Clara didn’t recognise him, so he probably joined the pack after the entire ordeal.
Of course, the pack would have needed a new leader. She and her brother had made sure to deal with Alpha Marshall after their father’s death.
Jolting her away from her thoughts, the door swung open, revealing Wyatt. He looked stressed and angry as he marched in and closed it behind him.
“Why?” he said flatly. “Why did you attack an Alpha’s wife?” So perhaps Dylan hadn’t told him everything. She turned to face him fully, glaring, and repeated what she had told him.
“That woman had my father killed.” She spat. “Nearly had me and my brother dead, as well. My own mother.”
He nodded sombrely, as if this was the answer he was expecting. “You need to tell me everything.” He stated, searching her face for any signs of doubt.
She sighed, feeling her anger dissipate in his presence. “I suppose it’s about time.” She said, swallowing a little nervously. She had never told anyone about what she and her brother had experienced.
She sunk down onto the bed, fiddling idly with the side of the blanket. “My mother was a werewolf,” she admitted bluntly, looking up at Wyatt to gauge his reaction. Of course, she scolded herself, he already knew this from their encounter with the woman earlier. “But my dad was human. They met when she was visiting some distant family outside of her pack, and settled there to try and live a human life. But after my brother Sam, Luke and I were born, it wasn’t enough for her. She missed the pack, so we moved back – a werewolf and four humans.” She blurted it all out in a quick, jumble of words, but by his surprised expression she assumed he’d understood. He sat down beside her, nodding slowly.
“The Alpha let us live there, but it was clear we weren’t wanted. Only my mother was really accepted there. A few years later, my older brother shifted for the first time. That made it a little better – everybody thought that we would shift too and they wouldn’t have to -” she paused, sucking in breath. “But we didn’t. Our thirteen birthday passed uneventfully. Sam had always known it, too. He sensed that he was different, and loved it.” She spoke bitterly, clenching her fists at the memory of him.
“The pack wasn’t happy, though. They wouldn’t put up with human children living among them, and the Alpha was only too pleased to give them what they wanted. But they couldn’t let us go, of course.” Her voice was now venomous. “And so my mother, ever striving for power, suggested that we be killed. My father made sure Luke and I got out, but he wasn’t so lucky. And my mother let it happen. To her own mate.”
Clara didn’t realise she was shaking until Wyatt put a hand on her shoulder, warm and heavy. She met his gaze. “You don’t have to go on.” He said. After a pause, she shook her head.
“Luke and I went through foster homes for a year, until he met some hunters. They took us in, trained us – he was so angry…and I was too. I wanted revenge for what they did to my father. So when we were strong enough, we went back. With a few friends, we broke into the Alpha’s house and killed him and his beta.
“I saw my mother that night. She’d heard all the noise, I guess – but she didn’t see me coming. I almost killed her. But I was weak. We ran away. After that night, I never returned to their lands. I hadn’t seen her since.”
Clara’s eyes were locked on Wyatt, waiting for the anger. She had just admitted to killing the leaders of another pack, something that was no doubt infamous among the other Alphas.
He opened his mouth to speak, but she was suddenly afraid of his answer. What if he hated her? She may have despised him at first, and perhaps it was just their bond, but she had grown attached enough to want to stay.
“I’m tired.” She said quickly, cutting off whatever he was about to say. She stood, heading over to her drawers and opening one at random. She pulled out some baggy pyjamas that she hadn’t yet worn, scrunching them into a ball and hurrying out of the room as fast as she could.
Once she was safely in the bathroom, she locked the door behind her and sat down, her face in her hands. Why was everything happening now? She found her mate in the form of her enemy, her brother hated her and her mother was back. It was a cruel twist of fate, to give her something that made her happy and then throw her past back in her face.
After a few minutes of what she silently admitted was sulking, she changed into her large T-shirt and shorts and walked back into her bedroom. Wyatt was still there, leaning against the headboard of the bed with a serious expression.
He turned his head when she walked in, sitting up a little straighter. “I’m sorry,” he said. “For everything you’ve gone through. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
She frowned as she made her way to the opposite end of the bed, sitting across from him. “How can you say that? You know everything that I’ve done and you still don’t hate me.”
He crawled forward to sit right in front of her with an intense stare. “What you’ve done doesn’t matter anymore. You did what you thought was right – and I would have done the same. But it’s the past, and it doesn’t matter anymore. Besides,” he gave her a smile. “I couldn’t hate you if I tried.”
She couldn’t help the small grin that lifted her lips. Her sour mood was quickly vanishing, but fear lingered in her mind. Her mother would never let this go. Now that she knew Clara was alive, she would be hell-bent on ending her.
But for the moment, she was happy.
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I'm sorry this is so incredibly late! But there you have it, that's Clara's story. Was it what you expected?
I hope you enjoyed this chapter - the next wait will not be this long, I assure you. So leave a comment, let me know what you think :)