CHAPTER 16

My mother yelled, her voice resonating throughout our penthouse, "Where were you?" I put my palms up over my ears to shield them. The fork in my father's hand smacked his plate. Adelle, as you can see, I just got back from work, and I'm most definitely not in the mood for your pranks tonight! "At work," my dad replied with a scowl; his blue eyes were enraged, and my stomach began to feel uneasy. They were going to battle once more. They battled constantly. It always began with mom saying something that enraged dad, followed by his cursing her terribly or saying something terribly damaging to her that would make her weep, and then she would beat him just as viciously. Sometimes she used her hands, other times unrelated household items, and occasionally a sharp object like a knife or a pair of scissors. My dad never struck her back. Never that I witnessed, although my mother had the worst temper, and he said the worst things to her. She was quite aggressive. She retorted, drawing forward till she was standing over the dining table on the opposite side, "You are lying! You must really think that I am stupid!" Her dark eyes were blood red, and her blonde hair was wild. Dad raised his gaze to the ceiling. His blue eyes immediately met hers, and she said, "By the moon, what did I ever do in my life to deserve such a useless excuse for a mate?" Adelle, I think Rose will be better off without a mess like you in her life. If you don't watch it, I'll send you to an asylum, and you'll never see Rose again. I broke down in tears because I was so terrified of what I was seeing. Daddy wished to separate Mommy and me. My entire body trembled. My mother yelled the words out as she directed the knife at my father from a distance. "You've fucked every female that has legs in this pack, but you call me the deranged one?" she said. Tell me why Jon had to fuck my closest friend too. Why? Of all the girls in this pack, why her? For ten years, I have been with you and have endured the embarrassment of being your mate as you consistently cheat on me whenever you get the chance. My mother's tone began to alter, and her entire body began to tremble. It changed from being irate to sounding as though she was about to start crying. My sobs persisted. "Have I not been a good mate to you? A good wife to you? A good mother to our daughter?" My father yelled back at her, "Good?" before abruptly rising to his feet. Adelle, you're crazy. You're always on my neck. Why do you even have a knife in your hands? Just look at yourself, Adelle. Jon, you won't even say that you cheated on me with my best friend. "What's the point, Adelle? You're nuts. I still curse the day that I laid eyes on you and was bewitched by this bond. I can't stand you. You make me want to hang myself, and if the only peace I can get in my life is a few minutes of pleasure that another female who isn't psychotic like you can give me, then without a doubt, I'll take it. She screamed through her tears, "So why are you still with me then? "I begged my parents to stop, but they both flatly disregarded me. I didn't stop sobbing. Father pointed at me immediately. My mother's eyes met mine in a moment of perfect silence. Rose. My princess, Rose, is the only reason I didn't divorce you the day after I married you. Sometimes, I wish she didn't exist so I could leave you, but she's here and she's my princess, and I love her," she said. The tears that streamed down their faces were hasty and angry. Her black eyes grew even more intense, taking on a color resembling a pitch-black, never-ending tunnel. "Yet you hurt her mother every day as you stand here." My mother suddenly walked over to me. I was then abruptly grabbed from my chair and placed into her arms. She merely holds me against her while I yell and sob. My dad's lips parted helplessly as I stared at him with frantic eyes. Then I sensed the jagged blade contacting my neck. My father lifted his hands and asked cautiously, "Adelle, what are you doing? "This is between the two of us; leave Rose alone. Don't harm her." "You never wanted me, right? Or Rose? Now, I'll send her back to the moon and then kill myself too so you can finally be happy with all your mistresses, so that this never-ending hell would finally come to an end." *** Right Now I suddenly wake up and grab my neck because I feel like I can't breathe. Another childhood memory that still bothers me I keep coughing, as if there is something sharp lodged in my throat. Years have passed since that occurred, but whenever I thought about it in a dream, I could swear I could still feel the blade cutting my neck. I breathe out and grab the water glass that is sitting there. I consumed it all. I wanted some fresh air. Plenty of it. I got to my feet, put on my shoes and stockings, and quickly left the room. I had to breathe, and if I could, I had to shift, but I was hesitant to do so. Even though the nighttime air was fresh, I felt stifled as I made my way outdoors through the mansion. I cursed the moon as it appeared in all its splendor over the horizon. Is it punishing me for my sneaky scheme to woo Storm by delivering me these memories in the form of dreams? I'm remembering these things a lot because I don't know why. It has never been this common. I moved through the field while letting my skirt flow with the wind like a free spirit. The howls tortured the atmosphere, but they also gave me comfort in a number of ways. Ava, please calm down. You aren't that kid anymore. To be completely honest, my parents were simply ill-suited to one another from the beginning, but that doesn't mean I want to be awakened in the middle of the night by their memories. To be completely honest, Storm wanted me to recall my history, so I suppose he is getting his desire. At a rock-related event, my parents first met. I even acquired my name that way. My birth name, Rose, was just a play on how my parents met; it actually means "little rock." I can be inventive. The successor to his father's architectural dynasty, Umber Creations, was my father, Jon Umber. It was just beginning to gain popularity at the time, but it showed promise and developed into a massive corporate empire. On the other side, my mother studied geophysics. They first connected during a nature or environmental conference. I'm not sure. I only really know that it involved rocks. When my parents entered that room, they immediately recognized each other by smell and realized they were a couple. Despite the fact that my mother was his partner, my father was a Casanova, and he enticed her into his bed just like he had done with every other woman in his past. He didn't know how to contain himself around her, and neither did she, so their sex that night went pretty far. Before he understood what was happening, he lost control and claimed her as his own. What follows is history. They started dating, got legally married, and then had me a year later. But they had a really unhappy marriage. My father's eyes were perplexed. Lust and my father were intertwined. He frequently cheated on my mother. It broke my mother's heart to have a new mistress every week. My mom started drinking to cope with the fact that her partner was unfaithful all the time. When she was inebriated, she became extremely violent. My dad used to be beaten by her. Technically speaking, he never fought back because, in his opinion, she was a woman, but my mother frequently engaged in conflict with him. This further widened the chasm between them. They eventually shifted from being lovers to more like co-parents. So, absolutely, there are errors made by the moon; otherwise, I would have no idea what in the world happened when my parents were paired together. They are the cause of my inability to believe in the mate bond now and in the future. Despite the fact that they were miserable together, their link had the unfortunate effect of making them even worse apart. Because of this, despite how frequently my parents parted, they always returned home within a week. There were so many arguments over who would get to keep me, yet both parties were unhappy because they were apart. Toxicity 101, truthfully every day they argued, and I truly wished I didn't have to witness it. I wish I didn't have to witness my mom physically abusing my dad or overhear my dad telling my mom the most disgusting things that even the worst person in the world should never have to hear, let alone a mate. Sadly, we are unable to choose our parents. And what's worse is that we can't choose our friends either. I desperately wanted to pull off my clothing and change, as many wolves dashed right by me. It's been so long since my last shift, but the issue is that this pack contains so many guidelines that I'm confident shifting is covered by at least one of them. Particularly considering that nudity is involved. I pass by the pond, which is also subject to restrictions, and I feel like taking a water lily simply to spite the members of this pack—both the rule-makers and the dimwitted wolves who blindly obey these ridiculous regulations that, in all honesty, make no sense. I sigh. I'm afraid I can't display my bold side. Then I spot a field of sunflowers and run in its direction. I've never seen a sunflower field before, so I'm extremely happy about this. I want to explore it because it's so big and seems to go on forever. I adore how the sunflowers appear to be extending their arms toward the sky. As I raise my feet to enter, my arm encounters some resistance. The killer inside of me almost kicks her leg into the air as I turn to confront whoever just grabbed me. When I saw Storm's dark eyes staring at me with the utmost curiosity, I screamed but pushed it back into my throat. I exhaled a breath of relief and allowed my limbs to unwind. My eyes are fixed on his like a deer in headlights, and as he turns to face me, the resistance to my arm begins to make sense. Looking down at his hand that is holding my wrist tenderly, I say, "You scared me," and he releases me. He informs me, taking a step away from me so that there is clear space between us, "You can't go in there. I roll my eyes and say, "Don't you tell me that it's against the rules too?" He observes, "I take it that you're a bit of a rebel," and I sigh, kicking myself for letting my true self through. Ava, you must keep a submissive and innocent demeanor rather than come out as bold! I slap my forehead. "If I'm being completely honest, I just think there are a lot of rules here and it seems like there is a rule governing everything," In contrast to the stunning moonlight, he grinned, his eyes sparkling. The moon appears to shine the brightest in this pack for some reason; is this just because there aren't as many lights there as there are in mine to prevent you from viewing the moon? In any case, I enjoy the distinction. "That, you are sort of right about, but this is an old pack, and with it, so are its traditions - old," he replies, putting his hands behind his back. However, entering the sunflower field is not against the rules; rather, I don't want you to get lost or hurt in case someone mistakes you for an invader and attempts to mind link you but you don't reply because most of the shifting wolves roam through this area and it is a pretty large field. I realize what he's saying and say, "Oh!" before finally stepping away from the field. Yes, in no way. I definitely don't want to get lost in this bundle! Silence would put an end to me. Storm asks, "Walk with me?" and I accede, following him as he points me in a certain route. Again, he makes care to maintain a noticeable distance between us, and all I want is to close it. Storm would undoubtedly be that person, if social distance were a person. He always keeps a distance between us since, I'm sure, his pack has rules against men and females moving or standing together. I break the ice between us by saying, "Shouldn't you be asleep? "I guess being an Alpha isn't the most relaxed job." You're right, but shifting is the only way to let that energy out, and for some reason, being an Alpha also comes with a lot of energy. I push my hair behind my ears and ask, "How often is quite a bit?" He keeps his hands behind his back. I try not to respond to this, forcing my eye muscles to remain normal "at least once a day." That much changing is a lot. In essence, he works a shift each day. That is crazy. I would comment, but I don't think I'm meant to remember how frequently I used to shift because I'm supposed to be suffering from amnesia. Sincerity was never common. I typically worked three shifts every month, one of which was the required shift on the full moon. "You haven't shifted in the week you've been in my pack," Storm remarks. You have no idea how jealous I am of that. I gave him a smile from above. "The fact that you haven't shifted in at least a week tells me several things. You either forgot how, which I think is quite impossible but oh well, or you're not from a small pack because wolves there are used to shifting a lot." Storm, I fear that I'll wind up killing you rather than enticing you. Ma, what the heck? Why are you a critical thinker? Now, just to allay your suspicions, I have to shift frequently. Despite the knives in my heart, I grin at him. After that, he says nothing more, and we continue to walk. The breeze is pleasant and comforting as we pass numerous fields that are blooming with wildflowers, including one spring. This set is really lovely. It seems so natural that it even makes me feel the need to embody my actual nature—that of a wolf. I ask Alpha, "Alpha, could I ask you a question about your pack?" as my hands caress a really lovely pink rose. Storm answers, "Sure," and we both go to the pink rose patch. Why are most of the people here named after flowers? Storm's expression immediately changes. His facial expressions are nothing short of amused as his head reclines and he lets out a tiny laugh. He then touches a rose with his hand. "Because flowers are considered beautiful, parents want their daughters to be the most beautiful because beauty matters a lot to the females in this pack. I don't know why, but it does, so they name their daughters after flowers because of how pretty and alive flowers are when they bloom," he explains. I nod as I look down at the flower patch. It made a lot of sense but also absolutely no sense. Since I've been here, every other female I've met or heard Tinley talk about has had a name derived from a flower. She either goes by the name of a Willow, Rose, Iris, Daisy, or some other flower. Flowers include even Indigo and Fleur. He asks, still grinning, "I take it you've met the millions of girls named Rose and Lily in this pack?" His hair leaps when he shakes his head. I nod in agreement even though I haven't yet met a Lily, but I have met three Roses. One of them was Bellerose, but Rose it is anyway. There is a flower in every girl Tinley tells me about. I ask, still stroking the pink rose's petals in the patch, "Why there are so many girls named Rose?" Since roses are regarded as the most beautiful flowers, he explains, bending down to select a rose from the patch. "And every mother wants her daughter to reflect the moon's beauty and be equally as beautiful, so they name her Rose. I think its thoughtful logic." He gets to his feet while holding the pink Rose. Considering that my parents gave me a name that is derived from a rock, I don't think I have any right to judge. A tiny rock! Parents may choose to name you after a flower or a rock. If everyone didn't already have it, of course, wouldn't you prefer to have a name like Rose? I finally let go of the rose petal and turn to face Storm, saying, "Honestly, I would never want to be a Rose or a flower in general." I responded, "Flowers wither. What's the point of being the most beautiful when your beauty is bound to fade? When it is destined to wither away and be picked by your very own admirers? Destroyed by them? I don't see the point. Instead of being called a Rose, Daisy, or some Magnolia, I think I'd rather be called the beauty or radiance of that very flower instead of the flower itself because beauty is never forgotten but a withered flower will be picked by its Storm suddenly grabs hold of my hands and opens them to insert the rose he had chosen. He ties my palm up. "Mawee. I suppose that's your name now."