Chapter 56
1077 Words
Gwen
I was curled up on the window seat, wrapped in a thick blanket and staring out at the snow-covered trees, when the knock came at the suite door. I didn’t move—couldn’t, really. My body still felt hollow after everything with Justin, like some part of me had been scooped out and replaced with doubt.
Cain opened the bedroom door gently. His eyes were soft, but serious. “Gwen,” he said. “There’s someone here who needs to talk to you.”
I turned slowly. Cole and Cash were behind him, their expressions shadowed with tension.
“Who?” I asked, voice quiet.
Cole stepped in. “Your father.”
I blinked. “Terrance?”
They all nodded.
“He’s… here?” I asked, a sick twist forming in my gut. “Why?”
“He says it’s about your mother,” Cain answered gently.
That stopped my breath.
Cole crossed the room and took my hand. “We’ll be right beside you the entire time.”
I nodded once, sharp and shaky, and let them lead me to the sitting room.
Terrance was already there, standing under guard, shackles on his wrists. His face looked older than I remembered, like years of guilt had finally caught up to him.
His eyes found mine, and he dropped to his knees. “Gwen.”
I didn’t say anything.
“I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness,” he said, voice cracking. “But I owe you the truth. About everything.”
I sat on the couch, Cain beside me, one strong arm behind my back. Cash knelt in front of me, his hands on my knees, and Cole hovered protectively at my side.
“I’m listening,” I said, barely.
Terrance looked up at me, like the weight of the moment would crush him.
“Your mother—Aurora—she didn’t die when you were born.” His voice was ragged. “She was taken.”
My stomach twisted. “What?”
“She found out what Karl was doing. The brothels. The trafficking. She brought the evidence to me, begged me to help her expose him. I wanted to… I should have. But Karl… he threatened to kill her. Said if I didn’t fall in line, he’d make an example of her.”
My fingers dug into Cash’s hands. “So you let him take her?”
“I tried to fight,” Terrance whispered. “But he already had her. She was locked away. And I—” He broke off, swallowing. “I couldn’t protect her. I couldn’t protect you.”
A sob clawed its way up my throat.
“She’s been alive this whole time?”
He nodded. “Somewhere in Karl’s estate. Hidden. Used as leverage to control me for years.”
The room spun.
I leaned into Cain’s chest, feeling his hand rub slow circles on my back. Cole sat on my other side and held my trembling hand. Cash pressed his forehead against my knee like he couldn’t breathe either.
“I’m so sorry,” Terrance said again. “I thought I was protecting you. But all I did was make sure you grew up with a monster.”
I didn’t know if I could forgive him—not yet. But some part of me believed him.
My mother was alive.
Everything I’d ever known about my past was a lie.
And now, I had to decide what I was going to do about it.
Third Person POV
The cell hadn’t changed in over two decades.
The stones remained as cold and unyielding as the day she was thrown into them. The iron bars still rusted from the damp air, and the single window, little more than a slit in the stone wall, offered only a sliver of light that never warmed her bones.
Aurora sat on the thin mattress, arms folded across her chest, her long silver-streaked hair spilling over her shoulders. There was a quiet strength in her posture, the kind that didn't come from muscle or magic—but from sheer survival.
She had lost track of how many years had passed. She'd marked the wall at first—hundreds of tallies scratched in charcoal or blood—but eventually, even that ritual faded.
What remained was Gwen.
Her daughter. The image of her infant face lived permanently behind Aurora’s eyes. The curve of her cheek, the tiny fingers that had gripped hers. She had screamed for Gwen when they took her. Had clawed at the guards, cursed Karl, begged Terrance to fight harder. But it hadn't been enough.
Karl’s voice broke the stillness like a whip cracking in the air.
“I see the years haven’t softened you,” he said from outside her cell.
Aurora didn’t rise. She didn’t even look at him. “You didn’t come for conversation.”
“No,” he admitted. His tone was smug, dangerous. “But I thought you’d like to know… your daughter is playing right into our hands.”
Aurora’s eyes flicked toward him then, sharp and cutting. “If you’ve touched her—”
“Oh, not me,” Karl said with mock innocence. “Justin. He’s done beautifully, actually. She’s halfway mated to him already.”
A chill like ice water flooded Aurora’s spine.
“You’re lying.”
Karl leaned closer to the bars. “She thinks the triplets manipulated her. That her bond with them is a trick. She came to him willingly.”
Aurora stood slowly. Her joints ached, but her rage gave her strength. “You’re destroying her.”
“I’m saving her,” Karl snapped, the mask of smugness cracking for a brief moment. “From a future she doesn’t deserve. From being a pawn in someone else’s game.”
Aurora stepped closer to the bars. “You’re terrified of her. Of what she could become.”
“She’s mine to control.”
“She was never yours,” Aurora hissed. “And when she finds out what you’ve done to me—what you’ve done to her—you won’t live to see the fallout.”
Karl smirked. “We’ll see. After all… there’s still one piece left on the board.”
He turned and strode away, his boots echoing down the stone hallway.
Aurora gripped the bars, heart thundering.
Hold on, Gwen, she thought fiercely.
I’m still here. And I will not die in this cage.
- Writer
