The Alpha's Silent Bride: Seventh Time's The Charm novel Chapter 102

Chapter 102: 102: Memory lane

~ ROSELLE ~

Even though I didn’t find the answer I was looking for in the book, I’m still not convinced that Irina is my mother or that I’m somehow destined to become a monster. The whole idea sounds too impossible to believe, and I refuse to accept it without proof. One conversation, no matter how emotional—can’t erase everything I’ve believed for the last years.

I can’t be a Lycan. Ronan had said the Lycan they captured was originally a werewolf before he was turned. The most likely explanation is that he was bitten and infected by a true-blooded Lycan before the transformation began.

If that’s the case, then Irina obviously knows something about the conversion.

The thought twists my stomach into knots, and a cold shiver races down my spine. If I’m right, then whatever Irina is planning isn’t an act of kindness.

It’s something far more sinister.

My pulse quickens as I make my way toward the medical wing. Each step echoes louder than the last, my breathing growing uneven as I silently pray that the truth waiting for me isn’t worse than the lie I’ve already convinced myself to believe.

The familiar scent of antiseptic greets me the moment I step inside.

Pack members move in and out of treatment rooms while nurses hurry through the corridors carrying trays of medicine.

"Roselle."

I turn at the sound of my name and find Elias looking up from the reception desk with a warm smile.

"Good morning."

"Morning," I reply, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. "Is... Irina around? I wanted to speak with her."

His brows lift slightly, but he nods without asking any questions.

"She’s in her office." He gestures toward the hallway.

"The last room on the right."

"Thank you."

I offer him a small nod before turning away.

Without waiting another second, I make my way down the quiet hallway, my footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor.

My heartbeat pounds harder with every step, and I rub my damp palms against my jeans, trying to calm the nervous energy coursing through me.

When I finally reach the door Elias directed me to, I stop in front of it and stare at the wooden surface for a brief moment.

I draw in one slow, steady breath before lifting my hand and knocking.

"Come in."

My fingers tighten around the doorknob for a split second before pushing the door open.

Irina looks up from a stack of medical files, and the moment her eyes meet mine, she freezes in place.

The file slips from her fingers and lands on the desk with a soft thud, but she doesn’t seem to notice.

"Roselle..."

She pushes back her chair and rises so quickly that its legs scrape loudly against the floor.

Her blue eyes instantly turn glassy with tears, and her lips tremble as she stares at me.

"I didn’t think you’d come."

An awkward silence settles between us, and neither of us moves as we simply stand there, looking at each other.

After a long moment, she gathers herself and slowly closes the distance between us, steps after step.

"I’m... I’m sorry."

Her voice breaks on the last word, and she presses her lips together as if trying to keep her emotions under control.

"I’m so sorry for everything I’ve put you through."

She swallows hard, her throat bobbing as she struggles to steady herself, while I remain rooted to the spot, unsure of what to say.

"I know yesterday was a lot." She clasps her trembling hands together, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know I shattered everything you’ve ever believed, but I couldn’t keep lying to you anymore. You deserved to know the truth."

Her gaze searches my face anxiously, as though she’s trying to read every emotion I refuse to show.

"Are you... are you alright?"

Instead of answering, I fold my arms tightly across my chest and square my shoulders.

"I have a question."

She nods immediately without hesitation, her expression softening with cautious hope.

"Anything."

I draw in a slow breath, but the words still feel heavy on my tongue.

"If you’re really my mother..."

My voice catches, and I have to force myself to finish the sentence.

"...then why are you dead?"

The question drains every ounce of color from her face, and she blinks at me in stunned silence.

Her eyes dart toward the office door before narrowing to the narrow glass panel overlooking the hallway, as though making sure no one is listening.

Without saying another word, she walks across the room, reaches for the lock, and quietly locks the door before turning back to face me.

The soft click of the lock echoes through the room. And finally she turns back to face me, the sadness in her eyes has deepened, and the weight of it makes my chest tighten.

"It’s a long story," she whispers.

She walks over to the desk and gently pulls out a chair, inviting me to sit.

"I promised myself that if you ever came looking for answers, I would tell you everything."

She lowers herself into her seat and takes a slow, shaky breath, as though preparing to relive memories she’s spent years trying to bury.

Silence again, before she finally gathers the courage to speak again.

"I wasn’t born a Lycan."

I stare at her without blinking, trying to make sense of everything she’s saying.

"I was an ordinary werewolf."

Her fingers lace together so tightly that her knuckles turn pale, betraying the anxiety she tries so hard to hide.

"I met your father when we were young. He wasn’t King yet, but everyone already knew he would become one someday."

A faint, wistful smile flickers across her lips as though the memory briefly carries her back to a happier time.

"We fell in love."

Her eyes soften, and for the first time since I walked into the room, warmth replaces the grief on her face.

"It wasn’t political, or arranged,"

She lets out a faint, humorless laugh before looking back at me.

"It was real."

The words leave her lips with quiet certainty, and she presses a hand against her chest as if she can still feel the love she once had.

She holds my gaze without looking away, and the office falls into a heavy, deathly silence.

"My father chose neither."

A small, bittersweet smile appears on her lips, though it never reaches her eyes.

"He staged my death." I blink.

"The funeral... was fake. The grave... was empty. The entire pack believed I died during childbirth."

She gives a slow nod, her expression filled with quiet sorrow.

"That was the only way to save both of us."

Her voice trembles, and she presses a hand against her chest as emotion threatens to overwhelm her.

"I wanted to stay. I wanted to watch you grow. I wanted to hear your first words... hold your tiny hands... watch you become the beautiful young woman standing in front of me."

Fresh tears spill down her cheeks, and she makes no attempt to wipe them away.

"But if I’d stayed..." She swallows hard before forcing the rest of the words out. "They would’ve killed me. And eventually... they would’ve killed you too."

She takes a shaky breath, her shoulders sagging beneath the weight of years of guilt.

"I left because I wanted you to live."

Those words hit me harder than anything else she’s said, and the tightness in my chest becomes almost unbearable.

Before I realize what I’m doing, my feet carry me forward, closing the distance between us.

Irina’s eyes widen in surprise, and her lips part as though she wants to say something.

Instead, I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly.

She lets out a soft gasp before her arms close around me as though she’s afraid I’ll disappear the moment she lets go.

"My baby..."

The words break on a sob as she buries her face against my shoulder.

"My baby..."

Her body trembles violently in my embrace, and I gently pat her back, silently allowing the hug to last for as long as she needs.

As I hold her, my fingers carefully brush against a loose strand of her hair, and it slips free almost effortlessly.

Keeping my movements slow and natural, I discreetly tuck the strand into the sleeve of my jacket before easing out of the embrace.

She doesn’t seem to notice, her attention fixed entirely on me as she lifts both hands to cup my face with trembling fingers.

"It must’ve been so hard," I whisper softly, my throat tightening around the words.

A heartbreaking smile curves across her lips, though fresh tears continue to stream down her cheeks.

"It was. So many birthdays. So many holidays. So many nights wondering if you were safe."

She lets out a shaky breath, her gaze never leaving mine as another painful memory surfaces.

"When I heard your father had died..."

She closes her eyes, and a pained expression washes over her face as though she’s reliving the moment all over again.

"It broke me all over again. I wanted to come back. I almost did. But I knew the moment anyone saw me... the hunt would begin again. And I couldn’t risk bringing that danger to you."

Her voice grows quieter with every word, and by the time she finishes, tears are silently trailing down her cheeks once more.

I swallow against the lump forming in my throat, my chest aching as I struggle to imagine the loneliness she’s endured all these years.