The Bully Alpha's Defiant Slave

Chapter 4

Sandi

"Jackson, don’t," my mother whispered sharply, her eyes locking onto my father with a mix of fear and desperation.

“He deserves to know,” my father replied softly, but with unwavering resolve. “She has to understand what’s coming.”

My mother’s voice trembled, her words hurried and strained. “Do you hear yourself right now? She’s just a child. She’s too young to bear this. Our job is to protect her—protect her from everything we can.”

My father exhaled slowly, a deep breath that seemed to carry the weight of all he was about to say. His gaze softened as he looked at her, then turned to me. “As her parents, we need to prepare her for what the future might hold. And the only way to do that is by telling her the truth.”

“What are you talking about?” I demanded, confusion swirling into a knot of unease in my stomach.

My mother hurriedly added, “This isn’t something you need to worry about right now. Just… forget it.”

But my father’s voice was firmer, quieter but insistent. “No. She deserves to know. It’s time she understood what’s really going on.”

“Guys! Please,” I begged, voice trembling. “Just tell me what’s happening. Is this about you guys wanting to leave? Is that what this is?”

My mother’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears. She turned her face away for a moment, then gently placed her hand over my father’s. “Please, not here. Let’s talk about this when we get home,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

He hesitated, then reluctantly pulled his hand away. “Fine. We’ll discuss it at home.”

The moment we stepped inside, I couldn’t hold back my questions. I spun around, desperation in my voice. “So—what were you two talking about out there? What’s going on?”

My mother hurriedly brushed her tears away. “Maybe she doesn’t need to know just yet,” she said, voice tight with worry.

“No,” I shot back. “If it concerns me, I need to know. Please. Tell me what you’re hiding.”

My father looked at her, eyes serious and unyielding. “It’s time, Janice. She needs the truth. Like she said, it involves her. She has every right to know.”

My mother’s face crumpled, her eyes glistening with tears. As she stared at me, fear and sorrow etched into her features, the tears spilled over, tracing silent paths down her cheeks.

“Mom,” I whispered, shocked to see her crying. “What’s wrong?”

She rushed forward, wrapping me in a trembling embrace. Her body shook with silent sobs, her voice choked with tears. “My baby… oh, my baby,” she whimpered over and over.

“Janice, please,” my father snapped, annoyance flickering across his face. “Don’t do this. She’s fine. We’re fine. Just… stop.”

My mother pulled back, tears still streaming down her face. “Jackson, stop it. You’re being so cold. What’s wrong with you?”

“And you’re crying like a child,” he shot back, voice sharp. “Get a grip.”

“Enough!” I shouted, stepping between them. “Please, just—tell me what’s going on. I can’t take this anymore!”

My father hesitated, then finally gestured toward the living room. “Everyone, sit down. Now.”

We trudged into the living room, each of us sinking onto the furniture. My mother wiped her tears, trying to compose herself. Then she looked at me with trembling eyes.

“We have to leave as soon as possible,” she whispered. “It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

My stomach clenched. Keep me safe? Was this about the werewolves? Was that what they’d been talking about?

“From who?” I asked, voice barely a whisper.

Her voice broke. “We can’t risk them taking you away from us.”

“Who? The werewolves?” I pressed, eyes darting between them.

My father burst into a nervous laugh. “Werewolves? Seriously? That’s what you’re worried about?”

My mother chuckled softly, trying to dismiss it. “She’s been watching too many horror movies again,” she said, forcing a laugh.

“Stop dancing around it,” I snapped, frustration bubbling over. “Just tell me what’s going on!”

My father finally gave a heavy sigh. “We’re not talking about fairy tales or monsters from your books. You’re the one imagining that. The truth is… something else.”

My heart pounded. I clutched my head, trying to process what they were about to say.

“We don’t have any documentation for you,” my mother whispered, voice trembling. “No birth certificate. Nothing.”

I stared at her, mind racing. “What? How is that even possible? Did you lose it? Can’t you just get a new one?”

My father’s voice was flat, almost cold. “It’s not that simple,” he stated.

“Why not?” I demanded, my voice rising.

“Because… you’re not ours,” he said softly, almost regretfully.

The words hit me like a punch to the stomach. I couldn’t breathe. I stared at him, stunned, trying to grasp what he’d just said.

“WHAT?” I gasped, voice cracking. “You’re not mine?”

He looked away, guilt flickering in his eyes. “I found you. You were just a baby—maybe a month or two old. I was walking along the river, heard crying in the woods, and went to check. And there you were. No one else around. I took you home. No one came for you. We raised you as our own.”

My mind spun, trying to catch up. “So… you just kept me? Even though you had no papers? How did I get into school?”

My mother’s voice broke. “Your father forged a birth certificate. The school didn’t question it. But now… it’s going to get complicated. Especially when you graduate and they look closer.”

Tears welled again in her eyes. “If they find out, they’ll take you away. And there’s more—”

“More what?” I demanded, voice trembling.

“Your birth mother… she might have been one of the bodies found during the murders. If the authorities discover the truth, they’ll do DNA tests. And then…” her voice trailed off, haunted.

I stared at them, feeling the ground shift beneath my feet. “You’re saying I might be… not even human? A secret? A mistake?”

They looked at each other, guilt and fear etched into their faces. I felt a cold wave of realization wash over me.

“Stop worrying,” I said, trying to sound strong. “I’m almost an adult. I can handle myself. I don’t care about documents or the past. I’ll figure it out.”

My mother’s voice was soft but firm. “Sandi, sometimes life throws you into situations you can’t control. You have to be prepared for that.”

My father nodded. “After tomorrow, we’re leaving. For good. You, me, your mother—we’ll be safe together.”

And as I sat there, overwhelmed and confused, I couldn’t help but wonder: was there more they weren’t telling me? Something darker lurking beneath the surface of this secret life? I knew one thing for certain—whatever was coming, I’d have to face it alone.