"She... she should have been." I frowned at the strangeness of Blaise’s question.

Of course my mother would be in charge of my meals; who else was there? The other person was me, and I was a mere year old when we left Stormclaw. I didn’t even have control over my bowels, let alone know how to create meals for myself.

"It had always been the two of us back then. If she hadn’t made me any food, I might have died from malnutrition before my father picked me up. Blaise, I was just a toddler back then," I reminded Blaise. "Why do you ask?"

To my surprise, his expression turned grave. "That explains a lot about you. The lack of a wolf, your resistance to silver... It all makes sense now."

"What?" I could barely register Blaise’s words through the roaring in my ears. The final piece of the puzzle had fallen into my hands, but I could not muster up the courage to see the damning picture formed by the pieces.

"Harper, you didn’t sense anything wrong with the food?" Blaise asked. "Do you feel like I do?"

"It was spicy and a bit bitter," I confessed before the realization hit me. I had tasted that same bitterness for every meal I had here that my tongue had long gotten used to. God. Was I ingesting wolfsbane all this while?

"I’m guessing wolfsbane tastes bitter?" I asked.

Blaise nodded.

I closed my eyes and fought the urge to scream into my hands. I didn’t need Gus waking my mother up. With my mother’s trigger-happy attitude, she might just assume Blaise hurt me and shoot him through the heart.

"All my meals here were bitter. I thought it was because my mood was already poor and my mother was a terrible cook, but it turns out I was tasting wolfsbane all this while," I mumbled in disbelief.

"Yes," Blaise said regrettably. "And you’ve not suffered any consequences. Have you? Did you feel weak? Develop a stomach upset?"

"No," I said, "I was only tired and worried."

"That proves my hypothesis." Blaise reached out to hold my clammy hands, but I noted with horror that his were also too cold for my liking. I quickly rubbed them between my own, hoping to generate some heat. Blaise noticed my panic and soothed me, "It’s okay, Harper. This is just temporary. I’ll be as right as rain once I get a few hours of rest."

"So, you won’t be alright anytime soon," I said grimly.

How could we rest when my mother was haunting the tower like a phantom? Not to mention Blaise was still paper pale, his breath rattling in his lungs as though he had aged two decades. He was so tired, yet he still tried to put on a brave face to comfort me.

My heart ached at his suffering― suffering he didn’t need to endure, if not for me. Why was I cursed with such an insane mother?

He let out a weak chuckle, his eyes slowly losing focus from tiredness. No, I needed him awake. I couldn’t help but fear that if I let him fall asleep, he would never wake up.

"Tell me more about your hypothesis," I said instead, tucking him on my side of the bed as I wiped the sweat on his temples. My side of the bed was relatively cleaner than his own, and I wanted to give Blaise whatever comfort I could.

"My hypothesis is simple. Harper, I’m sorry to tell you this, but your mother may be single-handedly responsible for you not having a wolf," Blaise said, sounding wretched with apology as he clutched at my hand. "We all know from Darach’s situation that ingesting wolfsbane for long durations can sever the bond between man and wolf. I suspect the same thing might have happened to you."

"But I didn’t even have a wolf for the wolfsbane to work on," I protested in confusion. "I was a year old, and I spent only three years with her as a toddler. Would wolfsbane work on someone so young?"

"Of course. In fact, I dare say it might be even more effective in toddlers than in a grown man," Blaise said. "The only way it would have been more effective would be if your mother was frantically eating wolfsbane for every meal while she was pregnant with you."

There was a pause as the both of us stared at each other, contemplating that possibility.

"I can’t rule that out," Blaise said. "What do you think?"

"She did hate my father enough," I agreed faintly. "Even if she didn’t when she was pregnant with me, she might not want a werewolf child. I don’t see how she could get her hands on it in Stormclaw, but if there’s a will, there’s a way."

"So... there you have it," Blaise said with a quiet sigh. "The reason why your wolf never showed up was because your mother deliberately poisoned you with wolfsbane as a fetus or as a toddler, severing the tenuous connection you had with your wolf. Since you were so young, the bond would have been more primal, more instinctual, yet weak at the same time. It wouldn’t have been hard to snap it in two―"

"As easy as taking candy from a baby?" I couldn’t help but add, my anger slowly rising when I heard Blaise voice out what happened in his own words. When he said it so plainly, it was impossible to not feel outraged.

My entire life, I had spent years feeling like a failure of a werewolf. I was treated like trash in Stormclaw, and even in Fangborne where my mates were in, I had to endure the malicious cackling of those who deemed me inferior to them.

And I would never be able to feel a truly complete mate bond with Damon and Blaise. We would never be able to go running side by side in our wolf forms, hunting and tracking together, while communicating in our minds.

My mother had robbed me of a bright future.

Blaise gave me a wry smile. "Very nice pun indeed. Harper, while I would never say no to your touch, I do need working fingers."

I glanced down to see Blaise’s hand slowly turning a purplish red from how hard I was gripping it.

"Oh right, sorry," I said, quickly letting go of Blaise’s hands. I had grown stronger after mating with Blaise, but I noticed with huge dismay that the increase in strength wasn’t as large as before.

Possibly because Blaise had been affected by wolfsbane when we were making love. I shut my eyes and cursed my mother.

What were we going to do?