Chapter 4

"You don't need to know. What you don't know can't hurt you," my mother tells me.

"So, will you come to see us?" I ask her, full of hope. She lowers her gaze.

"No, you know I can't, but you can send us pictures of... You never told us his name," my mother says.

I say to them," Milo." They look at me strangely, but I thought it went well with his father's name. Although I'll probably never meet that man, at that time I was hoping for it; now, not so much.

"You see, you can send us a picture of Milo and we can use video chat; it'll be the same," my mother says, but it won't be. He'll lack the connection, the physical contact.

I bite my lip and nod without a word. It's the best thing to do. I'm alone; not even my mother is willing to stand up to my father for her daughter. I shouldn't have expected her to. It's almost impossible for someone to stand up to their partner.

I never realized how much I missed human contact until I was able to hug my mother and sister. Now I don't feel it anymore, except for my son. I crave contact, any form of interaction or conversation, someone to talk to and who will respond.

"Are you okay, Elara?" Celia asks, and I nod when I see the taxi waiting outside. I take my son, the bag my sister packed for me, and the baby bag.

"I won't see you again," I tell them, letting those words sink in: I'm not welcome here, and you're too afraid to come see me. That's how it'll be. You said you'd call, but we all know it'll just be texts, if you can even manage that without my father finding out.

Celia hugs me tightly before letting go, and my mother squeezes my face with tears in her eyes.

"You can do it. Everything will be all right," she says, her face etched with worry, for she knows how small my wolf is and that I will suffer if someone comes looking for me. She knows I won't be able to protect myself.

If they knew my mate had also abandoned me, they would realize I was practically dead. Without him, I will slowly deteriorate until I disappear. I will be unable to move and will be practically human. When that happens, I will be finished.

"Are you talking to me or to yourself? —I ask."

She frowns; you know there's nothing for me or my son. We're criminals, and nothing good ever happens to criminals. We simply exist among the packs, surviving day by day and praying that bigger prey doesn't kill us, because in the end, no pack would intervene for a thief, even if he had a child.

I have to carry my son in the back seat while the taxi driver takes us to the The Ashen Quarter where my car is. We pass a dilapidated hotel, and I think maybe I have enough fuel to get my car there. I hope so. After spending the whole night in the rain, I'm craving a hot shower, something warm to warm my stomach, and most of all, the safety of four walls, even if just for one night.

I tell myself that one night is all I need; then I can calm down and find something. I give the taxi driver some of the wad of cash my father gave me and watch him drive away. I have no idea how much money my sister slipped into her purse.

I grab the keys from the diaper bag, unlock the car, get in, and lower the tailgate before realizing I no longer have the car seat.

Damn! I think about how long it took me to save up for that chair.

I empty my pockets and purse after putting my son in his crib. My father has given me $525. I sigh. Well, thanks, Dad. At least I can buy about sixteen boxes of formula and four of diapers with that, which will save me some trouble for a while.

When I open the bag my sister packed for me, I see feminine hygiene products, hair products, makeup, and even a pair of black pants, a blouse, and black flats. I guess she put them here in case I get a job interview. I also find Celia's old touchscreen phone and a charger before finding an envelope. Opening it, I pull out a stack of one-hundred-dollar bills. I feel a lump in my throat: she's given me everything she has.

I know he did it. There are almost eight thousand dollars. She gave me all her savings.

I feel a tear slide down my cheek. Turning the envelope over, I see Celia's neat handwriting.

"You can do it. I love you." I nod.

I nod. You're right. I can do it, because I have no other choice. I'm going to make it work.

After packing some clothes and filling the diaper bag, I prepare some food for later before changing Milo. Once he's dressed in a fresh diaper, I grab the umbrella, sling the diaper bag over my shoulder, and pick up my son.

Without a car seat, driving is impossible, so after locking the car, I start walking toward the run-down hotel I saw earlier. I wonder how I never noticed it before. Just for one night, I could pretend I'm normal. After the good shower I had the other night, before my partner and the father of my child left me, I now crave a little normalcy, a little dignity, the chance to feel human, even if only for one night.

When I arrive at the rectangular, two-story building, the The Bellamy House, the rain has almost stopped. The paint is peeling, the grounds are overgrown with weeds, the entrance sign is hanging precariously, and the neon lights flicker as they struggle to stay lit. The parking lines are blurred, and the hotel numbers on the door are barely visible. At the reception desk, a woman sits with a cigarette between her fingers. As I push open the door, a bell rings, and the smoking woman addresses me:

"I'll be with you in a second; let me finish this," he says, raising his cigarette. He looks at me intently, studying me, his eyes scanning my features before settling on my son, whom I'm holding.

"Is it yours?" he asks. I nod, look at him, and pull him closer.

"The father?" he asks, and I shake my head.

"Isn't it your partner's?" she asks. I feel tears burning in my eyes as I hear her words.

I don't know how to answer.

"So, if it's your partner's, why are you here?" he asks curiously, pointing to the empty chair next to me.

She leans in to look at Milo, studying him more closely. He appears to be around fifty years old, with shoulder-length black hair, a pierced nose, and heavy eye makeup. He's wearing a tank top and jeans, and seems comfortable in his attire.

The woman says," his strange eyes; they remind me of someone I knew. Amber eyes often run in families. There aren't many wolves in Ravenholm with those eyes." "So, the blood alpha is your mate and his father?" she asks, putting two and two together. I guess Alpha Ronan is known for his electric amber eyes. Surprised, I look at her. She smiles and nods when I don't say anything." A powerful family. So why aren't you with your mate?"

"He didn't recognize me and kicked me out of the pack before I could talk to him about his son," I confess.

"And your family?" I remain silent and she nods once before speaking:

"My parents also thought I was an outcast mother. It's funny how things happen."

"So, you have a son?" I ask, feeling an immediate connection between us.

"I'd a son, but his father took him away."

"So, you're a fucking criminal?"

"It's such a despicable thing to call women that; whoever invented it should be shot. I'm many things, but an outcast mother? You and I aren't so different. —My name is Maura Bellamy, and yours?"

"Elara. This is Milo," I say, and her eyes light up.

"It suits him; he looks like his father."

"How do you know?"

The woman asks, looking at my son," About your father?" I only know one family with amber eyes. Come on, we'll find you a room," Maura says, getting up. I follow her to the small office."

The woman says," I guess you don't have any ID," and I nod.

"I have an old bus pass," I suggest, but she shakes her head and signals me to leave.

"I don't think you'll cause me any trouble. Here, fill this up while I take care of Milo," she says, holding out her arms.

She hands me my son and goes behind the counter, where she sits while I fill out the paperwork. However, I don't have an address to write down or a credit card that would actually work as collateral. I jot down my sister's old cell phone number.

The woman says," Are you hungry? I'm preparing a roast, but it's too much for one person. You can join me if you like, say around five; it should be done then," gesturing to the door behind her. There's a beaded curtain, and the smell of roast lamb reaches my nose. My stomach growls at the prospect of a home-cooked meal.

"How about you make yourself comfortable, take a shower, and come out that door when you're done? We can have dinner together. It would be nice to have some company. Not many people stay overnight anymore, and you can tell me how you became a criminal." I rummage in my purse to give her the money from the envelope as she hands me my son.

"No, keep it. Be nice and stay for company; nobody's stayed for months," Maura Bellamy tells me. I look around again. The place is a pigsty, but it's still nicer than the back of my car.

point of view

The sun makes my eyes pop out of their sockets as it illuminates the back of my eyelids. I'm gathering the strength to force myself out of bed when Cassian Vale bursts into my room and slams the door against the wall, making my already intense headache worse.

"Ah, good. You're awake now," Cassian Vale says as I sit up and rub my eyes. I gesture for him to leave, but he doesn't. Instead, he leans against the wall next to my dresser.

"What?" I ask, my skull pounding. I look around for a redhead in my bed and groan, praying I used a condom. She's tangled in the sheets, and just seeing her there annoys me. Stupid idiot, why do you always pick dumb girls?