44. Mason

Chapter forty-four

Mason

I dropped silently to the ground as the cool night air rushed against my skin, carrying with it a complex tapestry of scents. The manicured lawn of the Alpha House's garden offered a subtle green fragrance, mingling with the sweeter notes of night-blooming flowers. But beyond that, the unmistakable smell of town life permeated the air.

A figure emerged from the shadows, and my muscles tensed instinctively. Camille. The moonlight filtering through the canopy cast harsh shadows across her face, accentuating the lines of grief and anger etched deep into her features. She walked rigidly, her shoulders tense and squared, as if bracing for a fight. Her hands were clenched at her sides, knuckles white with strain, and there was a fierce, almost feral energy about her. Her lips were pressed into a thin, unforgiving line as she fixed me with a look that could have frozen fire. In that moment, I realized just how formidable an opponent she could be. My wolf stirred, recognizing a potential threat, but I pushed him down. This wasn't about dominance or territory. This was about Shya, about love, about doing what was right. And this was a woman pushed to her limits, teetering on the edge of desperation. The Camille I knew—the strong, intelligent Alpha, the proud mother—was barely recognizable beneath this hard, unyielding exterior.

"Mason." Camille's voice was cold. She took a step forward, her eyes never leaving mine. "I thought I made it clear you weren't welcome here anymore."

I shrugged, meeting her gaze with my own. "I needed to see Shya."

Her lips thinned even more, disapproval radiating from every pore, though whether it was from me refusing to lower my eyes or the fact that I had seen Shya, I didn't know and didn't give a holy fuck.

"My daughter is no longer your concern. You need to leave, Mason. Shya has responsibilities to this Pack. A duty to fulfill."

The word "duty" ignited a spark of anger in my chest. How many times had I heard that word used to justify what they were doing to Shya?

I took a step toward Camille. "That's some fucked up bullshit, and you know it. Her duty? Forcing her into a false mating for the sake of Pack politics?"

Camille's eyes flashed dangerously, a low growl rumbling in her chest. "Watch your tone, Mason," she warned. "You don't understand—"

"No," I cut her off, taking a step closer. The anger within me surged, but I kept a tight rein on my control. "I understand perfectly. You're locking her in a relationship that will slowly eat away at her."

The thought of her stuck in a relationship with someone who didn't see the real her, the wild and free and strong and confident her, made my chest ache.

"Tying her to Edmond, to anyone who isn't her true fated mate, will kill her day by day. You're sacrificing your daughter's happiness for your own agenda."

Camille's face contorted with a mix of anger and pain. Her eyes, so like Shya's, flashed with a dangerous light. "How dare you! How dare you presume to know our family? Shya's bloodline has ruled here for the last two hundred years. This is what she has been molded for since she was born." Her voice dropped, taking on a tone of reverence and determination. "She knows she must do whatever is needed to secure this Pack against all threats. Her happiness is secondary."

I shook my head, rage bubbling up at how cruel parents could be. "If I had a child, their happiness would be my only concern." The wolf within me was snarling, demanding action, but I knew that violence wouldn't solve this.

When I spoke again, my voice was low and intense, each word deliberate. "What you're doing to Shya is no different from what Tristan did. You're just perpetuating the same cycle of abuse and control." I watched as Camille's eyes widened, shock replacing anger for a moment. But I pressed on, knowing I had to make her understand. "You claim to love her, but you're stripping away her choices, her freedom. Just like Tristan did. You're using your authority to force her into a situation she doesn't want while ignoring her feelings and desires. That's not love, Camille. That's control."

I took another step closer, my voice dropping to a near-whisper. "You saw what Tristan's manipulation did to her. He and his pet witch took her mind apart piece by piece. And now you're doing the same thing, all in the name of duty and tradition. You're teaching her that her own happiness doesn't matter, that she exists only to serve others' needs."

She took a step back as if I'd physically struck her.

"You're wrong—" she started, but I wasn't finished.

"Am I?" I challenged, my voice softening slightly. "Camille, I know you're hurting. I know you've lost so much. But ask yourself, truly ask yourself: if you love Shya, how can you do this to her?"

Camille's face crumpled, the mask of anger giving way to raw pain. For a moment, I saw the grieving mother beneath the Alpha face.

"She's our future," she whispered, her voice breaking. "With Tristan out there, she will always be vulnerable. Always be at risk. Mating with Edmond will secure her place. I'm trying to protect all my children. I'm trying to protect her."

I shook my head. "By crushing her spirit? By denying her the chance at true happiness?" I took a deep breath. "If you really love her, you'll let her make her own choices. Even if that means going against Pack traditions. Even if it means letting her be with me. Letting us rule together."

Camille's eyes flashed with a mix of emotions—anger, fear. "You honestly think you can replace Michael? That you, above all of our own people, can rule here?"

"Yes," I said simply. Of that, I had no doubt. I held her shocked gaze for a moment, then turned and walked away.

She was right about one thing. Shya would never be safe while Tristan was still out there. And I knew just what to do about that.