Dishes clash as conversation hums. An occasional laugh cuts through the buzz, and I watch the people. I haven't spent much time in the real world lately and am cushioned by werebear at the tree farm. With my newly heightened senses, I am aware of more than I used to be, and it's exhausting. Regular people speak too loudly and wear too much scent. I crinkle my nose as I wonder if any of them sense something not quite human in their midst.
My mind wanders to the reality shows that hunt for mysterious creatures. I imagine infrared cameras and shaky footage of animals running by as tiny eyes glint when flashlights reflect quickly. On my own hunt, I'm aware the moment Marion walks into the room. Her auburn hair is pinned up in a sophisticated way that matches her dark-pink skirt suit. Heads turn as she moves by. A twinge of jealousy pulses when I long to be that graceful and have such presence.
Marion's face brightens with a smile when she sees me. Good, because I'm nervous and don't want to start off on the wrong foot.
“Carly, I'm so glad you invited me to lunch. I didn't get a chance to talk to you much at your wedding.” Her smile gets bigger. “It was rather dramatic.”
I grin back. “Yes, it was. I don't suppose brides—” I stop because I realize werebear traits aren't something I should be talking about in public. Instead I finish telepathically. “I don’t suppose brides shifting is going to be the new wedding tradition for clans now, is it?”
She grins, but I sober, thinking about Sierra and the prima lunch we'll be having tomorrow. Aloud I say, “I suppose you wonder why I wanted to get together.”
Marion licks her glossed lips as she speaks mentally. “You want to know if I'm your mother.” Then she says. “Yes.”
Not exactly how I expected this to go. I don't know what to say but find words quickly. “Will you explain why you left me?”
A flash of something I hope is pain goes through her eyes, and she answers as the waitress approaches. “I will.”
We turn our attention to the girl and order lunch. When she leaves, Marion leans her elbows on the table, and her hands steeple. “I loved your father very much. So much that when I got pregnant, I did the unthinkable for a child of the alpha: I left to be with him.”
I ask in my head, “Did he know what you were?”
She answers, “No. And I didn't know what you would be capable of.” She leans back as ice clinks in the glass of water the waitress sets in front of her. When the server leaves, she says, “I'm glad I didn't, because it would have made it much harder to leave Al. I would have wanted to take you with me.”
I furrow my brow before she can continue in our heads. “I’m an alpha. You may not understand it yet, but being the future prima doesn't let you choose certain things no matter how much you want to. When my father died, I had to return to lead my clan.”
Metal is cold in my hand as I straighten my silverware on the table. I'm not one of those children that used to dream about the perfect mother coming to take me away. I loved my life with my father, and he made it clear I would never see her again. Marion being gone was a nonissue. But anger flickers when I think she's the kind of person that could leave her daughter so easily.
She says, “Leaving you behind was the hardest thing I've ever done, but knowing you and Al had each other helped me live with my decision.”
The words come out before I can think about how weak they make me sound. “Why didn't you bring us with you?”
“Oh, Carly, I wanted to. But you both would have been in danger as my family.” She stops speaking out loud and says internally, “You two would have been used against me and our clan. I couldn't let that happen to the people I loved more than anything in this world. Letting everyone believe you didn't exist was the right thing to do.”
My father's face flashes in my mind, and I remember how sad he always was when I asked questions about my mother. Tears flood my eyes, and I blink to keep them from falling. “You broke Al's heart. He used to say that once you've found the real thing, nobody else will do.”
Marion's eyes are glassy, and she speaks in my head. “He was my real thing, too.”
I try to imagine leaving Brady for the good of the clan, and I think in theory, knowing many lives could be at stake, I would do the same. I hope I never have to find out.
I clear my throat and ask, “You called me Charlotte. Is that my real name?”
“It was supposed to be. Your dad wanted to call you Carly, and I let him win. But—” She blinks quickly and looks away for a moment.
When she turns back, she says, “We called you Charlotte as a nickname. I suppose once I left, it was too painful to continue.”
Our lunch arrives, and I salivate as the fishy smell of my tuna panini makes it hard to focus. Marion says, “Go ahead. I remember how hungry I was when I was pregnant with you.”
Startled, I look at her, but then I remember she's old enough to recognize the scent of pregnancy, too. We eat quietly. At the doctor's appointment this morning, I learned I'm having two boys and a girl. Seeing blobs on the grainy screen made it real. It won't be long now before it will be obvious I'm pregnant, and I'll begin to experience some of the discomfort.