The Last Bequest From Father
Thea’s POV
“Thea, can we talk?” Margaret intercepted me as I prepared to leave, her eyes filled with desperation. I paused, looking at her with cold detachment. What the hell did this woman want from me now? After all the years of emotional abuse, what could we possibly have to talk about? Wasn’t everything already said and done?
“I can’t imagine what we have to discuss,” I replied flatly, my gaze devoid of any warmth.
“Please,” her voice was almost trembling, “just a few minutes.”
It was weird seeing her like this—cheeks flushed, eyes moist, expression soft. Such a stark contrast to the woman in my memories who always looked at me with icy disapproval, her face twisted with disgust. Back then, her eyes constantly told me that having a wolfless daughter was her greatest stain, but now I understood she treated me that way because I wasn’t really her daughter—just a burden she’d been forced to take on.
“Why don’t I take you two to a table so they can speak privately?” Elizabeth, Sebastian’s mother, suddenly suggested, cutting off my imminent refusal.
Sophia looked hesitant, clearly uncomfortable leaving me alone in this situation. After all, the Sterling family’s contempt for me wasn’t exactly a secret to any werewolf in Moon Bay. Elizabeth didn’t give Sophia a chance to object, simply linking arms with her and guiding her toward the other side of the restaurant.
“Fine,” I sighed as I sat down, “make it quick. I don’t have time to waste.”
When I was a pup, I fucking worshipped this woman. I’d do anything to please her—join activities she approved of, learn skills she deemed important, even though all of it made me feel like an outsider. I tried so hard to fit into her world, just to earn her love like I loved her. But everything changed when I realized she didn’t feel the same way about me.
Margaret hesitantly reached out to hold my hand, but I immediately pulled back. I didn’t want her to touch me. I didn’t want her near me. I didn’t need her fake closeness.
“I’m sorry, Thea, more sorry than you can imagine,” she said softly, her body slightly curling inward.
I didn’t respond, didn’t say anything, just maintained my silence. Once upon a time, I’d desperately wanted to hear these words. I’d fantasized on countless lonely nights about her holding me, telling me she loved me, apologizing to me. And now that it was actually happening, I felt horrifyingly empty inside, completely unmoved.
“The way I treated you was wrong. You tried so hard, wanted so badly to be accepted, and I pushed you away. You loved me, loved us, but we only gave you coldness and rejection. I wish I could go back and change everything. Go back and be the mother you deserved,” she continued, wiping tears from the corner of her eye.
“I never treasured your goodness, never saw your worth. It wasn’t until I almost lost you that I realized how terribly wrong I’d been.”
Her emotions completely broke down, tears streaming down her face. If this had been the old me, I would have been moved by her tears. But I wasn’t that person anymore.
Twenty-plus years of hurt and rejection couldn’t be washed away with a few tears. The wounds were too deep, and healing would take far more than she probably imagined.
“Cut the bullshit,” I said bluntly, “if you’re worried about the Kincaid Pack’s threat to Sterling, we can just talk business. You don’t need this emotional manipulation—it won’t work on me. Tell me your real purpose.”
A flash of hurt crossed her eyes, but I didn’t care. She’d been hurting me for years. This was nothing compared to what I’d had to endure from her and her Pack. Besides, I wasn’t sure why she looked hurt. I was certain her only reason for coming here was to try to save her Pack.
“Is that what you think of me? That I’m apologizing just for the Sterling Pack?” She shook her head. “Though I can’t blame you for thinking that. My actions have made it impossible for you to believe me.”
Looking at her now, it was hard to believe she was the same woman who used to scream at me for the smallest mistakes. The woman who treated me like I was inconsequential. It was so fucking weird. We’d never had a genuine conversation, so sitting here listening to her pour out her feelings felt absurd.
“I truly want your forgiveness, Thea. I want to be your real mother. I want to fix what I destroyed, to earn back the love I so carelessly threw away.”
I took a deep breath. “I don’t mean to be cold, but first, DNA results have proven you’re not my mother. Second, the time to repair our relationship has long passed. And finally, I don’t want you in my life. You all successfully treated me like air for twenty-plus years; it shouldn’t be hard to continue doing so.”
Some might say I’m ungrateful, and maybe I am. Early on, they provided me with enough material things. But for me, emotional connections mattered more. Material comfort couldn’t mask emotional neglect. Looking back, if they’d sent me to another Pack from the beginning, it might have been a relief.
“Please don’t say that. Don’t say it’s too late,” her voice was full of pleading.
“That’s just how it is. You’re twenty-plus years too late.”
She wiped away her tears, a determined expression settling on her face. “I won’t give up on you, Thea. You’re still my daughter, and I’ll do everything in my power to earn your love back.”
I rubbed my temples, already feeling the beginnings of a migraine. I stopped responding, hoping she’d understand that this conversation was over.
“Before I go,” she said, standing up, “I want to give you this. Your father wanted me to give it to you before he died, but I never had the chance.”
I didn’t look up at her, continuing to ignore her presence. Seeing no response from me, she sighed, placed something on the table, and turned to leave.
Only after making sure she was gone did I look at the table. To my shock, it was a piece of paper with a bloody fingerprint on it.
After staring at it for five minutes, I suddenly realized this was what my father had given her before going into the operating room—something I hadn’t seen clearly that night.
My mind was in chaos. I had no idea what this meant, but I sensed it might completely change my perception of the Sterling family. I held it in my hand, hesitating whether to open it.