Ex-Alpha's Regret: Siren's Comeback novel Chapter 22

POV: Seraphina

The offer from Killian Vance hummed in my blood, a secret source of strength and hope that I carried with me through the increasingly unbearable days. I had a future. I had a plan. I just had to survive long enough to reach it. But every day, Sylvie and Damian seemed intent on making that survival as painful as possible.

The next public torture was disguised as a wholesome family event. The Pup Creche was hosting its annual "Family Skills Showcase," an agonizingly cheerful day where pups demonstrated a skill they had learned from a parent. Last year, Nico and I had presented a clumsy but adorable wildflower arrangement. This year, I knew, would be different.

I sat in the front row of the small, brightly decorated auditorium, surrounded by the proud, smiling parents of the Blackwood pack. Damian sat beside me, a stiff, formal presence. On his other side, glowing with a proprietary air, sat Sylvie.

One by one, the pups went on stage. Little Elara showed off the perfect bread loaf she'd baked with her mother. Young Finn demonstrated a complex warrior's knot his father had taught him. Then, it was Nico's turn.

My son walked onto the stage with a confidence that was new, a swagger he had learned from his father. He didn't look at me. He scanned the crowd, found Sylvie, and gave her a small, conspiratorial smile.

"For my skill," he announced, his voice clear and proud, "I'm going to show you all how to track a silver-pelt fox."

He then proceeded to do just that, using a scented trail the instructors had laid out. He was brilliant. He moved with a natural grace, his senses sharp, his instincts flawless. He identified the broken twigs, the faint scent on the breeze, and found the hidden fox pelt in under a minute. It was an advanced skill for a pup his age.

The hall erupted in applause. I clapped along, a hollow, painful rhythm, my heart a leaden weight in my chest. I had never taught him that. I didn't even know he knew how to do it.

The silence in the room was absolute, a thick, suffocating blanket of secondhand shame. I could feel every eye in the hall on me, their gazes a mixture of pity and morbid fascination. My own son, on a public stage, had just declared me useless. He had renounced me and claimed another woman as his teacher, his mentor.

I chanced a glance at Damian. I expected him to be angry, to correct Nico's blatant disrespect. Instead, I saw a small, proud smile playing on his lips. He caught my eye, and then he deliberately turned his head and gave Sylvie a slow, appreciative nod.

He was proud. Proud of our son for rejecting me. Proud of her for replacing me. It wasn't a betrayal. In his eyes, it was a victory.

His nod was the final nail in the coffin of my maternal dignity.