Their traded family

13. Ghost

Hope's P.O.V

Since I'd never been into romantic movies, I'd watched horrors and mysteries, instead. I never really thought about what it would feel like to stare into the eyes of a ghost when I watched them, but now I knew. Because before me was a ghost. A female long ago murdered, dead, gone.

And yet, she wasn't really if she stood before me, was she?

I blinked, then blinked again, wondering if this was all some sick plot of my imagination. Maybe while I was running, I'd used up so much energy that I was having hallucinations? Maybe I was in bed and this was all a nightmare?

No matter how much I blinked, she didn't go away. Didn't dissolve into the ashes she was meant to be.

My birth mother.

My birth mother was alive. Had been alive my whole life. Had left me.

A sliver of betrayal coated my tongue, making my mouth so sticky I could no longer swallow. I stood there, shaking with adrenaline and shock, shaking so hard I only remained upright by rocking back and forth on my heels.

Back and forth. Blink. Back and fourth. Attempt to swallow. Blink. Back and forth. Fail.

I watched, horrified, as two warriors grabbed her arms, squeezing her tight enough to leave bruises. She looked so much like my aunt, I wanted to scream; how could they not see it? How could they not see the blond of her hair, the freckles on her nose? My freckles?

But then maybe she deserved it. Maybe she deserved to be caused a little pain for causing my aunt a lifetime of it. A lifetime of guilt and mourning for the sister she'd loved more than anything. Maybe she deserved to be treated like nothing more than a rogue when she'd made herself one all on her own.

The warriors pushed her on her knees, although she fought them with everything she had. Not screaming in fear or thrashing with uncalculated moves, no, she fought them quietly with only a few grunts to show for her efforts, and each move was made with precision and technique that could only be learned and trained.

"Get the hell away from her!" She screamed at last, loud enough to pierce the fog of shock that had engulfed my senses. I didn't know what to think. Didn't think I could. I didn't know who she wanted away from whom or what was going on but my eyes were constantly darting between her and Owen - my mate - who hadn't stopped thrashing with the same precision as her.

They'd trained together, I realised. And she cared more about him than she did me - her supposed daughter. He probably grew up with her, admiration and understanding like the one between them didn't just grow overnight, and he'd probably had pieces of her I never did. Never would.

I shouldn't feel as hurt as I did. I shouldn't resent my own mate for having the female who was supposed to be my mother. Shouldn't have a small part of me hating him when she owed me nothing. She was r***d into conceiving me, and I was certain she was forced into having me, too. If I was in her spot, I wouldn't want me either. I wouldn't want anything to tie me to my abuser, so why did the feeling of betrayal's claws and tendrils wrap around my chest - why did they squeeze - harder and harder as time went on.

I'd looked for the victims all along, and had never realised that I was one of them, too.

"L-let her go," uncle Zane stuttered his command to the warriors. Actually stuttered, so apparently I wasn't the only one in shock. Sound, previously muted, rushed to my ears and suddenly I could hear everything, everything...

"But, Alpha, she's a rogue?" One of them asked, confusion swimming in his gaze as my uncle let out a warning growl, though he didn't pack it with nearly as much authority as he usually would have. It was enough, however, for Alana to be free of their hold, to get back up on her feet.

And make no other move.

Again, that familiar, sour betrayal on my tongue, and suddenly I forgot what anything else felt and tasted like.

Surely, if the female had faked her death for sixteen years, she didn't want me. And I surely didn't expect her to all of a sudden launch herself into my arms and beg for my love. So why wouldn't my heart stop racing as if that was exactly what it wanted?

My mate, had finally managed to knock uncle Julian away from me until he stumbled out of his path, and Owen was pushing his way past the warriors trying to restrain him to get to me.

His gaze was brutal, as was the way he walked and the way he pushed everyone out of his way to get to me, and although every inch of me earned to get to him, to bury myself in his arms and hide away from reality, I took a step back, straight into uncle Zane's chest, who wrapped an arm around my waist, his other one around his mate's, and dragged us both behind him.

My mate, apparently threatened by his actions, growled so loudly the ground shook, his eyes turning the colour of his wolf's. It wasn't natural to fear your own mate, but at that moment, a shiver of fear snaked down my spine, because that brutal male force and intensity? They were all directed at me.

I hid my face in my uncle's back, unable to stop my limbs from shaking and body from jumping as aunt Sofia tried to comfort me.

"A-Ali?" Aunt Dali's voice cracked behind me. s**t. I didn't know when uncle Zane had called her and uncle Knox here, when they'd had time to pack and to arrive and everything, but amidst the chaos, I'd forgotten she was here. That her eyes, stained with tears every time someone mentioned something about Alana, were now staring into her sister's very much alive ones.

I turned just in time to see auntie Dali slump against her mate, her face pale as the ghost that was her sister, her mouth parted in shock as uncle Knox caught her, picked her up and nestled her into his chest, stroking her face and gently calling her mate.

A whimper tore from my throat before I was back to staring at Owen and Alana, at the two strangers who in another life would've been my entire world, knowing uncle Knox wouldn't let a single strand of hair rip off his mate's head.

"Owen!" My birth mother shouted, and although nothing else had worked, no one else's growls or commands, hers had stopped him, had taken his gaze away from me and allowed me a breath of fresh air that I still managed to choke on. "Don't! That is not how you want to treat your mate, you're scaring her!" I wanted to tell her I wasn't scared, although perhaps I was, but my mouth was clamped shut and instead of the fighter I was raised to be, I remained hidden behind my uncle's back, poking my head over his shoulder to look at the scene unfolding.

Just like every other pack member that had gathered to watch the show.

But Owen listened and backed down, took a step back and leaned against the wall of the pack house, his naked body from shifting into his human form on display for anyone to see. I gulped, my heart rate going impossibly higher until I thought I was going to pass out.

Before I knew it, Hadley was growling at everyone with an authority I had no idea she - we - possessed. And she didn't stop until every female, mated or not, had averted her gaze from what was ours.

A smirk curled at the corners of his mouth as his unwavering gaze stayed on me, running up and down my face and body. He stared up my bare legs, past them to the waist he couldn't see because of the oversized T-shirt hanging off my body, up to my hair that had stuck to my face and temples with sweat, and lingering on my mouth for longer than appropriate, given that my entire family, give or take, was watching over our every interaction.

"Jealous, mate?" He asked, his voice so deep it melted something from within.

"N-no," I croaked, cursing my voice for cracking, my cheeks for heating, my body for the reaction it was having to him.

"They could go to Hell for all I care," he let me know, his expression set into the stoney one he had not removed since he shifted, only snarling and growling if Julian, only Julian, tried to come closer.

"Okay," I muttered, stepping away from uncle, just slightly.

"Ali?" Uncle Knox's voice rang from behind me, Owen having momentarily distracted me from what was really going on. My birth mother's glare had been pinned on uncle Julian, while he could barely stand to look at her, guilt so prominent in his eyes my stomach curled with unease.

Where did they know each other from?

"Knox," her voice came a lot less like a question than his had. But her stare didn't linger on him for longer than it took to say his name, for she was looking at her sister, emotion finally in her eyes. She'd been exactly like a ghost up until now, but at least she still loved her sister. At least my aunt wouldn't have to mourn her sister twice.

Alana slowly began to step forward, looking around as if waiting for the guards to snap and restrain her once more, and they very well would have had it not been their Alpha's warning to leave her alone.

As it became clearer no one would stop her, her steps becoming more sure, I shuffled backwards, knocking into uncle Zane, who caught me despite the horrible way I'd treated him, despite everything. He held me as if nothing had happened, allowed me to use his body as a shield although the threat was only in my own mind.

"Knox, get that bastard away from all of you!" She demanded, though there was a soft edge to her voice, one she looked like she hadn't used in a while. "If not for me, then for," she gulped, and as she tried and failed to say my name, the name of the daughter she'd abandoned in the woods as a newborn pup, she finally looked how I'd imagined her to - a younger version of my aunt. I'd imagined her features softer, more innocent, perhaps because the only image I had of her lately was of her being abused and helpless, but she was none of those things now.

In fact, up until this moment, it was my aunt who looked younger, softer. While the abuse done to her had kept her on the shy side, never one to mingle in the largest crowds, and loving her peace and quiet with her mate and pups, it had turned Alana into pure muscle.

I imagined even her fingers had muscles, and wasn't far off as I glanced at all the calluses. The skin of her palms looked rough and almost worn out, and her body was so toned that even her muscles had muscles. Somehow, it suited her, although I doubted it would look good on anybody else. But no matter how toned or fit she was, it didn't take away from the scars littering her entire body, nor from the haunted look in her eyes.

Even if I didn't know what she'd gone through before I was born, I would've known just by looking into her eyes.

"If not for me," she tried again, startling out of my daze, "then for Hope. For your mates and your pups, kill him! Kill him before he does with them what he did to me."

A/N

Hi, Treasures! Make sure you join my F-a-c-e-b-o-o-k group Teddy's Treasures for extra content and discussions! This chapter was intense, huh?