The house felt wrong. Every step I took echoed too loudly, as if the walls were suffocating me, holding me in a place I no longer recognized. The air was thick with secrets—old ones, ones I'd never wanted to uncover. But there was no going back now. My mother's words rang in my ears, cold and unforgiving: She had a hand in Elias's death.
I couldn't shake them. Couldn't stop seeing her face as she'd spoken to them—calm, almost detached, as if she were discussing something trivial. As if taking a life, Elias's life, was a small price to pay for something greater. I had to know why. I had to understand.
I didn't even realize how fast my feet were carrying me until I reached the library. The room was exactly as it always had been: quiet, lined with books that smelled like old paper and leather. And there she was, my mother, sitting in her usual chair by the fire. Her fingers lightly traced the pages of a book she wasn't really reading. She had her back to me, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the flames.
I took a slow breath and stepped inside. The door creaked as it closed behind me, but she didn't turn, didn't acknowledge my presence. She knew I was there. She always did.
"Why did you do it?" The question came out more sharply than I intended, my voice thick with a mix of disbelief and anger.
She still didn't look up. The silence stretched between us, thick and uncomfortable. I felt my heart beat harder in my chest, but I couldn't turn away. I needed answers.
"I did what was necessary," she finally said, her voice calm, as though we were discussing something as ordinary as the weather. "To protect you. To protect the Blackwood legacy."
Her words hit me like a slap in the face. I took a step forward, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. "Protect me? By killing Elias? You think that was protecting me?"
She sighed softly, still not meeting my eyes. "Elias was never meant to be part of this world. His connection to you—it was a danger. Not just to you, but to everything we've worked for. The pack, our family, everything your father built."
I could feel the rage bubbling up inside me, hot and raw. "You didn't kill him to protect anyone. You killed him because you were afraid of losing control. You're so obsessed with power, you couldn't see the one good thing in my life."
She finally turned to face me, her eyes cool, unreadable. "You don't understand. The Blackwood legacy comes with responsibilities, things you can't even begin to comprehend. If Elias had lived, he would have been a threat to everything we've worked for. To you, to us."
I shook my head, disbelief flooding my thoughts. "You didn't even try to understand what Elias and I had. You didn't care about me, or us. You cared about power—about keeping things the way they've always been."
She looked at me then, her gaze steady. "I've always cared about you, Ronan. But you have no idea what it means to carry this family's name, this legacy. If I hadn't done what I did, everything would have crumbled. And then where would you be? Where would the Blackwood Pack be?"
"You think I cared about the pack? About this cursed legacy?" My voice cracked, but I didn't care. "Elias was my everything. And you took him away from me, all for your precious legacy. You think I can just forget that? You think I can just... accept this?"
Her face softened, but not by much. There was something in her eyes, a flicker of regret, but it was buried deep. "You will understand one day, Ronan. Perhaps not now. But when you're older, when you're leading the pack… You'll see the burden I carried. The choices I had to make."
"Don't you dare," I spat, stepping closer to her. "Don't you dare try to justify this. You killed him, Mother. You. And now you want me to just accept it, like it was for some higher purpose?"
She didn't flinch, didn't back down. She met my anger with quiet resolve. "I did it because I believed it was the only way to protect you. To protect the future of our family. I did what I had to do."
The words hit me harder than I ever expected. I felt like the floor had dropped out beneath me. My whole life, I had believed my mother was strong—protective, even. But this? This was something else entirely. This wasn't protection. This was cold calculation. This was power at any cost.
"Would you do it again?" I asked, my voice quieter now, heavy with the weight of the question. "If you could go back, if you could undo it, would you?"
She didn't answer immediately. Her eyes searched mine, as if she were weighing something deep inside her. But the answer that came was simple, inevitable.
"I did what was necessary, Ronan. I would do it again if I had to."
It felt like a punch to the gut. The air around me seemed to close in, suffocating me. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. My mother—the person who had raised me, who had taught me everything—was telling me that Elias's death, my greatest loss, had been necessary. That the only thing that mattered was the family legacy, and Elias had been an obstacle.
I turned away from her, the anger and betrayal crashing over me in waves. I couldn't stand to be near her any longer. I couldn't stand to hear her make excuses. She was wrong. She was selfish. And I couldn't forgive her for it.
As I walked out of the library, I heard her call my name softly, but I didn't turn back. I couldn't. There was nothing left to say. The truth had been spoken. The damage was done. And I was left with nothing but the shards of a broken family and a shattered heart.