Fated To Three, Betrayed By All… Until She Rose.-Chapter 335: From my husband.

Leilani.

My hands were clammy as I drove through the busy streets of NYC. And usually, whenever I drove around at night, I would take my time to admire the hustle and bustle. I would usually roll my windows down and allow the cool wind ruffle my hair. I would take deep breaths, enjoying the feel of this very familiar air in my lungs...

But today, I did the complete opposite of all of that.

I rolled up my window, drove past like I was in a car race and made sure to curse at every crowd I saw gathered at any point.

I even almost hit an elderly man and his wife or whoever the pretty woman with him was, until I snapped back to focus, panting raggedly because I had almost let my emotions rule me in a horrible way.

By the time I arrived at the pack’s dungeons which looked like a museum to the outside world, it was well into the night, about 11:00pm or so.

"It is way past closing hours, Madame," a burly looking bodyguard snarled at me, "...no one is allowed into the cells by this time."

His tone was cold and condescending but I’d rather count the air molecules in the room than allow myself to be intimidated by him. So I let my eyes travel from his head to his toes in slow deliberate motion, almost reveling in the way he squirmed under my piercing stare.

I slowly walked up to him, lifted my hair from my face and my neck to reveal the mark on my neck, and then I drawled; "I know the rules, but I have been marked by your Alphas. All three of them. And for that reason, you would grant me access."

At my words, he gulped tensely. His mismatched eyes were filled with terror as they darted from my face to the marks on my neck. The he asked softly— a lot better than the snarky tone he’d used earlier;

"Who are you?"

I frowned, not answering him.

"What is your name?"

At that, I shrugged. "I am Leilani Sinclair, but you may know me better as Leilani Blackthorne. You can also inform the Alphas that I am here— their mansion is only a few treks away from here. But I need to see someone real quick."

"Who do you want to see?" He asked,

"My mother."

And as soon as I said that, he didn’t even try to argue any further. He simply nodded at me and began to lead the way, his thunderous footsteps echoing through the quiet nasty-smelling hallway as he led me through the dark dungeons.

"Mrs Blackthorne is at the very last set of cells. They are the most comfortable ones, and I am quite sure that she should be awake by now..." he began to say as if silently informing me that my mother was fine.

Not like I cared that much.

I nodded at him but said nothing until we arrived in front of a clean looking cell with shiny silver barricades.

"Should I open the door?" He asked me but I shook my head at him.

"No." I said coldly, fearing that I might hurt my mother, "it’s fine this way. I only need to talk to her."

Our conversation must’ve been what had gotten mother’s attention because she soon rose to her feet, her eyes wide as she called out the one word I didn’t want to hear at the moment;

"Daughter?"

I frowned. "Mother."

"What are you doing here?" She asked but I ignored that and turned to the guard. "You can leave. You only need to give me thirty minutes or less and I’ll be done here."

He watched me carefully as if looking for signs of a lie, but upon getting nothing, he nodded once and turned away, not once sparing me another glance as he returned through the same pathway that we had come in.

For a moment, I was lost in thought and could only watch him leave until mom’s voice seeped into my self-induced bubble. She asked; "What are you doing here? Are you here to tell me about how you have refused to accept the things willed to you by your father?"

Those words riled me up so much that I couldn’t help but turn to her, hissing through gritted teeth; "My father?"

"Yes, your father. He left you things—"

"Are you talking about Malakai right now or Ragnar?" I seethed, not missing the way the light slowly drained from her face at the mention of Ragnar’s name.

She stumbled backwards, her eyes wide with mortification as she hissed; "Do not mention his name!"

"Why?" I spat, hating the dull ache now settling somewhere between my ribs. "Because you still haven’t gotten over him?" That was just a wild guess, but the way her mouth went slack told me all that I needed to know.

She hadn’t.

"Because you still feel guilty about what happened to him? Because all you could do was cry and watch while he was beheaded after being branded a thief! Something you very well knew that he was not?!"

"LEILANI!"

Her loud voice rang out. But it wasn’t only the loudness that made me snap my mouth shut. It was the raw pain. The anguish. The longing and the fear. It was everything she couldn’t voice that morphed into her tone.

"Who told you that nonsense?"

For a moment, I simply wanted to roll my eyes at her. I wanted to curse her. To hate her. But how could I when all I can now think about was why she was this scared. Why she looked so... so... intimidated.

I had never paid much thought to it but thinking about it now, mother has always been a little too scared since forever. She was always scared of her shadow, scared of father— Malakai Blackthorne— finding her without a smile on her face. She was always scared whenever I talked back to Chalice...

I drawled; "I have been in touch with someone from my father’s family. His name is Darius."

And at the mention of Darius’s name, mother’s face instantly went pale. Her shoulders sagged and she let out a small cry, her voice trembling even worse than mine as she whimpered;

"I do know him. He was your father’s adopted son."

"Oh, I know about that already," I wanted to snap at her, but my voice ended up coming out as nothing but a pitiful rasp.

"Oh," she gasped, turning away, and with a smaller voice, she added; "So he told you?"

"Yes he did." I responded without looking at her. "But I want to know why my father was called a thief and killed like a common criminal. I want to know why he was left to die out in the open like a disgrace... and why you never deemed it fit to let me know that he was never dead all these years. That he only died recently."

"Because I could not!" She yelled, completely breaking down. "Because I could never hurt you the same way I was hurting. Because I always knew you... because I knew you were a curious child and your curiosity would have brought us nothing but doom and punishment—"

"From your husband," I chirped in, completing her statement; and she gulped, looking away.

"Yes, from my husband."