Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 105

POV: Nico

Three years is a long time when you're a child. It's long enough to forget the sound of your mother's voice, the specific way she smelled of lavender and old books. It's long enough for the memory of her face to get blurry, like an old photograph left out in the rain. I was eight now, and the world was a very different place. A quieter, colder, and much more confusing place.

My father was a ghost. He moved through the manor like a shadow, his face a permanent mask of thunder. He never smiled. Not at me, not at anyone. Sometimes, I would catch him staring at me from across a room, his eyes holding a strange, pained expression that I didn't understand. It made me afraid. He wasn't the strong, laughing daddy Sylvie had shown me in the old photo albums. He was just… angry. All the time. And sometimes, when he looked at me, I felt like he was angry at me, too, for reasons I couldn't understand.

Sylvie was the one who was supposed to be my new mommy. In the beginning, right after my real mommy left, she was perfect. She was warm and sweet and bought me anything I wanted. She told me stories and played games and told me what a good, strong boy I was. She told me that my other mommy was bad, that she had run away and left us because she didn't love us, and that it was all her fault that Daddy was so sad. And for a while, I believed her. It was easier to believe her than to think that my mommy just didn't want me anymore.

But then, things started to change. It happened slowly, in little ways that made my stomach feel tight and nervous. The way her smile would vanish the second my father left the room. The way her hand, which had been gently stroking my hair, would suddenly grip my arm a little too tightly. Her sweetness was like the sun on a winter day—bright, but with no real warmth.

I remember one day, about a year ago. I had done poorly in my combat training. My father had been there, watching, his face like stone. He had yelled at me in front of the other pups, calling me weak and a disappointment. The shame was a hot, burning feeling in my chest. I had run to my room, crying. Sylvie had followed me. In front of the servant in the hall, she was all sweetness and light, pulling me into a hug and whispering that it was alright, that Daddy didn't mean it. But the moment she closed the door to my room, her face changed. The sweet smile was gone, replaced by a tight, ugly sneer.

I missed her. I missed her so much it hurt. But Sylvie said she was bad. And I was so, so confused. I just wanted my real mommy, the one whose face was getting harder and harder to remember.

I pressed my face against the cold glass of the balcony door.