Astor’s Pov
I waited two hard days before I went to find Faith. I felt many things: anger, fear, confusion, and a strong need to get her back. My wolf was very
troubled.
However, the pack faced numerous problems simultaneously. I had to make sure my pack was safe. All our borders had to be secure, and every guard had to be checked. I had to do this before I could leave my duties to get her.
I had put my best warriors to watch her when I found out where she was.
My wolf wanted to shift and run, but I had to use my car so that I could bring
her back safely.
When I got to her father’s house, I felt a bad feeling in my stomach. I could already tell that she was gone.
I jumped out of the car and ran to the door. I tried to knock, but whoever was inside was just taking their own sweet time, and I felt like breaking the door open because my patience was wearing thin, until an older man opened it.
He looked kind, gentle, and a bit sad. His own wolf was quiet, like an Omega. He bowed his head to me, showing respect for my rank. But he didn’t need to. He was my mate’s father.
“Where is she?” I growled.
I looked around the living room, hoping to find her scent. I can tell she’s been gone for more than half an hour. My warriors didn’t even notice.
He moved back, looking at the floor. “She… she went back home, Alpha. I’m
sorry she ran away. However, she dislikes fights and shouting. She promised she wouldn’t run again if you two fought again.”
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“Fight?” I asked, confused. “What fight? We didn’t fight. I just came home and she was gone. I don’t know why and she was supposed to be at the
ceremony, by my side.*
He wrung his hands, looking very upset. “I know it’s your life, Alpha, and I shouldn’t speak. But please, forgive her. She had a very hard life. It’s hard for her to trust people because her parents hurt her very much. We were supposed to protect her, but we made her life a living hell. I will never forgive
myself.”
The man’s voice cracked, and he cried. I’ve rarely seen a grown man cry like that. His sadness was so raw. I wanted him to stop, to be strong in front of me. But he was telling me something important about my mate. Something
she never told me.
I always thought Faith had a normal childhood. I knew her adoptive parents were not rich, and her mother was an Omega. But I never thought she was abused. This thought sent a shiver of cold through me.
“What are you talking about?” I asked him quietly. My anger was gone, replaced by a bad feeling.
“She didn’t tell you?” He said, truly confused.
He had a right to be confused. Mates usually talk about these things. But we were not a normal couple.
“No, she didn’t,” I said, my jaw tight.
“Then I think she should tell you herself.” He insisted, wiping his eyes.
“That won’t work for me!” I snapped, losing patience.
He nodded and pointed to a chair, and sat in another.
The house was small, a bit messy, but it felt warm. Safe. I saw why she came here. It was a safe place, very different from my cold, grand pack house.
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“Your daughter lied to you,” I began carefully. “Because she’s not coming back to me. She ran away days ago, after my Alpha ceremony. I thought she would be there. But she ran here instead. I’m trying to understand why she
did it, because we didn’t fight.”
His eyes grew wide with horror. “No, she wouldn’t lie… she told me that you two had a fight and… oh no. Oh, I’m so sorry, Alpha.”
He started to bow again, shaking his head quickly. I put my hand firmly but gently on his shoulder, helping him sit back down.
“It’s not your fault,” I said, my voice softer than I meant. “You said she had a hard childhood. Maybe if I understand what happened to her, I’ll understand why she did this. Why did she leave her place and make me look like a fool in front of everybody?”
He swallowed hard, looking far away, lost in his memories.
“Her adoptive mother… my mate… she never truly accepted her. Never. She was always… a problem, to her. From the moment she was born.”
He started talking, slowly at first, then faster, like a dam had broken inside him. And the more he talked, the sicker and sadder I felt for her.
“From the moment she could understand words, she was told she wasn’t good enough. Not smart enough, not pretty enough, not quiet enough, not thankful enough. Every good thing she did was met with a ‘could have done better.‘ Every mistake with a sharp ‘I knew you’d fail.‘ She was always compared to other children, always found not good enough. She was made to feel like she didn’t belong in her own home. She had to do chores late into the night while her friends played outside. If she tried to join them, her adoptive mother would pull her back. She was not allowed to have friends visit. She learned to speak softly, to walk quietly, to hide in the shadows. Because if she stood out, her adoptive mother would get angry at her.”
A cold anger started to burn inside me. How could anyone do that to a child?
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I sat there, listening, feeling each confession pierce me, one after another. My mate, my beautiful, vibrant mate, had lived through this. It was almost
impossible to grasp.
“Her adoptive mother never touched her with love.” Her father began, his voice rough with pain. “Never held her close. If she cried, she was sent to her room. She was told she was ‘manipulative‘ or ‘too fragile.‘ If she got hurt, she was blamed for being clumsy, never given any kind words.”
I imagined a small version of my mate, hurt and alone. My heart ached.
“I saw the light dim in her eyes, Alpha,” he continued, his gaze distant. “She was always so bright, so full of spirit. But my mate… her adoptive mother… she chipped away at her, piece by piece.”
He stopped, a silent cry shaking his chest. “I tried, Alpha, I swear I tried to help. To step in. But my mate… she had a way with words. A sharp tongue. And I was weak. I let it happen. I let her turn my home into a prison for that
sweet girl.”
My mind reeled. The image of my mate, the one I knew – full of quiet strength, a gentle grace, and a light that drew me in – began to crack. How had she survived this? How did she carry such a bright spirit after living through such a nightmare?
“It wasn’t just words, though, Alpha,” her father whispered, a fresh wave of agony hitting him. “Sometimes… sometimes her adoptive mother would say she needed to be ‘taught a lesson.”
He told me about when my mate was nine. She accidentally broke a porcelain doll. Her adoptive mother made her stand outside in the pouring rain, without shoes, for hours.
When she was twelve, she was caught reading a book under her covers with
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a flashlight. She locked my mate in the dark basement for two days. No food, just a bottle of water. Her father tried to sneak her bread, but he was
watched closely.
But it wasn’t the worst.
“The worst was after she turned sixteen he said, his voice barely audible.
“Her adoptive mother started saying she was ‘getting too big for her britches,’ that she needed to ‘learn her place.‘ That’s when the ‘accidents‘ started happening more often.”
He listed them, each word a new cut to my heart. The shoves down the stairs, always called “not intentional.” The “accidental” burns from a dropped kettle. The times she’d “trip” and fall, always near something sharp that would leave a lasting mark.
It was a nightmare, and everything she went through was one hell after
another.
Now I understand. This beautiful, strong woman I loved had been forged in fire, but not the kind that refines. A destructive fire. And yet, here she was, still shining. Still full of spirit.
My mate.
My miracle.
cphakathi28
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