Blaise’s eyes widened, his spoon clattering back on the plate, spilling curry everywhere while I nearly leaped up in surprise at my mother’s offer.

Even my hands were shaking as I placed my utensils flat against the table, the clink echoing throughout the room. My back was straighter, my eyes were wide, and my jaw was hanging agape as I stared at my mother. Strangely enough, her eyes held no malice as she smiled at Blaise.

In fact, she seemed to be challenging him to a friendly match, unlike the looks of pure disdain she shot Damon.

"Mom, you’re serious?" I asked. I couldn’t believe my ears. Having Blaise was better than not having both of them.

"I never say things I don’t mean," my mother said, and Damon scoffed in disbelief.

"Blaise, don’t be fooled! It’s definitely some sort of plot," he said with a scowl.

Just as I thought, the moment my mother’s gaze moved from Blaise to Damon, venom seeped into her eyes. She scowled, sneering openly despite the half-hearted smile she wore on her lips. Even so, my mother wasn’t afraid of letting Damon know her open dislike for him.

"Your brother is free to accept or reject my offer," my mother said. "After all, it is merely made because he is, after all, my daughter’s official mate. Meanwhile, you, on the other hand, Alpha Damon, have not announced to the werewolves of North America your intentions with my daughter. She bears your mark, and yet, not a name."

Fury danced across her expression, and the heat in the room began to rise. I gulped, pursing my lips as I watched my mother and Damon glare at each other, one ready to shift and the other prepared to shoot.

Damon remained silent, gritting his teeth in anger as my mother laughed. There was no joy in her voice, only mockery as she shook her head and dabbed the corner of her lips with the napkin on the table.

"Oh, yes, I’ve heard about all the ridiculous things that you brothers have put my daughter through," my mother continued. "She wears your mark on her body, and yet, in the eyes of others, Blaise Valentine is her only mate. Are you planning to make a laughingstock of my daughter, Alpha Damon?"

"No!" Damon immediately refuted.

His eyes met mine from across the table, and upon seeing my expression, he settled back in his chair. I didn’t miss the pop of blue against his skin where his veins showed, but his fists remained clenched and his body in his seat.

"No," he repeated, this time calmer, albeit still with gritted teeth. "Not announcing Harper’s relationship to me is to protect her from other packs. She has no wolf, and as such, makes her a vulnerable target if she is immediately crowned as the luna of such a prominent pack."

"Is that so?" My mother hummed, leaning back in her seat. Her fingers rose to stroke the fur she wore, smoothing down the sleek, glossy black fur set upon her shoulders.

Damon’s eyes narrowed as he watched her actions, his upper lip twitching. Then, he finally snapped.

"This is no ordinary werewolf pelt, is it?" he finally asked.

My mother’s eyes widened a little in surprise before a small smile began to stretch itself over her lips. She chuckled as though she had heard the world’s best joke, swatting at the air before finally smiling slyly at Damon. Even Blaise had bristled with the change of the topic, and I wondered if Damon had managed to recognize the source of the fur. 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝘦𝘸𝑒𝒷𝓃ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝒸ℴ𝘮

They knew that it belonged to a werewolf, that was for certain, but did they realize already that the wolf was someone they once knew?

"Why do you ask?" my mother questioned, playing with the delicate material. "You can rest assured, Alpha Damon, that the owner of this pelt did not come from Fangborne. I did not harm one of your own. Yet."

Even Blaise’s eyebrows did a subtle twitch of irritation, but he kept a masterful and cordial smile on his face. He nodded appreciatively, ignoring my mother’s choice of words and instead, returning to the question she posed.

"It is simply because my brother must’ve found the coat familiar," Blaise replied. "And I must admit, I do too. We were simply curious, that’s all. While not all the wolves across the globe are our friends, we would just like to make sure that the one you’re wearing isn’t someone we know."

"Straightforward," my mother commented. The manner my mother gazed upon Blaise was akin to a proud mother looking at her accomplished son. "Just what I want to see in a man. My daughter made a good choice picking you over your brother."

Damon merely scowled.

"Stop playing games," Damon said, growling. "We don’t have all the time in the world for you to waste."

"Tut tut," my mother said, shaking her head as she clicked her tongue. "How impatient. Although, for a pair of werewolves, I must say that you brothers lack where my daughter thrives. She recognized the owner of the pelt quickly. I merely offered a tiny clue."

Instantly, Damon’s eyes widened. I could practically see the cogs turning in his head. There were only so many wolves that have gone missing in recent days, a wolf which all three of us knew, and had black fur. Only, Damon and Blaise weren’t aware that she was already dead, unlike me.

Not until now.

"Although, I have to confess that I wasn’t the one who had the werewolf killed!" my mother immediately said, defending herself while Damon and Blaise were still speechless with shock.

They exchanged a glance, and I wondered if they were discussing the possibilities through their link to see if they shared the same guess. When Damon cursed, turning away from Blaise as vulgarities spilled from his lips, I knew that they had guessed correctly.

"In fact," my mother continued, smirking as she glanced proudly at me. "Harper was the one who shot the beast down where she stood. Tell them, my dear."