Chapter 33

Kimble

Missing Talon was like walking through a fog—everything felt hazy, and I couldn’t seem to find my way until I was back with him.

At the same time, I contemplated Vandil’s words. I had known Ayla as my abusive mother all my life, and I was used to that kind of treatment. Survival was the first instinct I developed. Taking a deep breath in, I got out of the bed. I needed to refresh myself. Splashing water on my face helped. When I returned to the room, a young maid came in and smiled nervously at me.

“Luna Thyra was hoping you’d eat something,” she said, placing a tray of food on the side table.

“Thank you,” I said.

She didn’t leave and stood next to the table. “Ylva,” she said softly. “Do you remember me?” She looked curiously at me with her dark eyes.

“No…”

She chuckled. “I’m Hira, and we used to play together all the time!”

I opened my mouth to say something, straining my mind to remember her, but nothing surfaced. “No…” I murmured.

She bit her lip. “It’s okay. You were too young when Ayla took you away.” She blushed a little. “Ayla was your nanny, and she—she was a fucking bitch!”

I jerked my head back as a chuckle worked its way out of my throat.

Hira grinned. “I’ll leave you to it. Have your food, and please sleep. Tomorrow, Luna Thyra will see you.”

Hira closed the door behind me, leaving her warmth behind. I don’t know why, but I was ravenous. It was like I could eat every morsel in the Viking pack. After devouring my food greedily, I went to the window and noticed that the lights of Jackie’s room were still on. Stifling an urge to go to her, I went to my bed and slipped beneath the sheets. When I drifted off to sleep, Talon visited me. He promised that he was coming for me. That he would fight everyone in the world to take me back. And then someone stabbed him from behind.

My eyes jerked open, my heart racing as if I were in real danger. Cold sweat broke out as my breath turned fast and shallow, almost as if I was panicking. “Talon…” I muttered his name, hugging myself to stop shaking.

The subtle, familiar sensation, like a deep, restless hum, vibrated beneath my skin. My body felt too small to contain whatever was lurking inside me. Heat spread from my core, a searing energy, as though my bones were trying to stretch. My pulse quickened. I tossed the sheet covering me and got up to find Thyra sitting at the edge of the bed, staring at me, her eyes full of tears.

I gasped, scrambling away. My back slammed against the backrest as the feeling settled slowly. “Wh—what are you doing here?” I asked.

“Ylva, I’ve come to say I’m sorry…” she murmured, lowering her head. “I wasn’t—” She shook her head. “You were—” She choked again. Then she looked at me. “Please, will you hear me out just once? After that, I’ll accept whatever you decide.”

I didn’t know if I wanted to hear about a family that had betrayed me, that couldn’t protect me, but inside I knew I needed to know why. “Sure,” I said, picking up a pillow and hugging it tightly, hoping it wouldn’t let my heart break.

Thyra smiled through her tears. “Thank you,” she said. She picked up a small box, opened it, and took out some pictures. Giving them to me, she said, “These are pictures of you.”

I took them from her and studied them closely. A cute, adorable baby looked at me. She had pale blonde untamed hair. Most of the photos were of me with Thyra and Frode, but some were with young teenage boys. I guessed they were my brothers. It was the last picture that caught my attention. In it, Ayla was braiding my hair, and I was crying, looking at Alpha Frode. Shock plummeted in my stomach, its weight so heavy that my mind went numb.

“That’s Ayla,” Thyra pointed. “She was your nanny, and she hated me.”

“Why?” I found myself asking as I stared at the only proof connecting me to them.

“Ayla was crazy about your father,” Thyra said. “She’d worked in our mansion ever since she was fourteen, quietly tending to the family’s every need, but all the while, bitterness festered in her heart. Frode’s mother loved her like her own pup. Ayla was fixated on Frode and dreamed of marrying him one day, but Frode met me and we smelled each other as mates. According to Ayla, she once lived a life of promise, a life ruined by the very man she now served. It goes without saying that she hated serving me.

“She hated me and tried to seduce your father in many ways. Frode never understood her advances, and she was always tame in front of me. When she couldn’t get his attention, she would take it out on you. She would lock you up in the bathroom or take you out to play outdoors and leave you unattended for hours. She would blame others for it, and I’d believe her blindly. I was so busy building the pack with Frode that I neglected my children. But that’s what the Alpha and Luna of the pack are expected to do.” She shook her head. “Ayla took advantage of it. She couldn’t do anything to your brothers because they were older and could speak, but you—”

More tears came out. “You were less than two. One day, I caught her putting drugs in Frode’s wine. When I confronted her, she said she didn’t know they were drugs. She cried and said Hira’s mother had asked her to do it. All my attention was focused on Hira’s mother. Furious, I called her to my house for further investigation. However, Ayla took advantage of the situation. She knew that when the truth came out, she’d be executed. In the commotion that followed, she picked you up in revenge and ran away. The rest you know…”

“Ylva, please forgive me,” she said, clasping her hands in front of me. “I should’ve been more careful, but—”

I watched her breaking in front of me, hating it. Slowly, I crawled to her and wrapped her in my arms.

“Ylva…” she whimpered. “I’m sorry, baby. I failed you. Please forgive me…”

Should I forgive her?