Prologue
The looking glass reflected the image of a dark-haired, angelic, young woman. Only the beast on the other side was neither angelic nor young.
A black eye and a broken jaw, she smiled as she reminisced the feeling of his fists on her face. It was the closest he would get to touching her considering how badly she had hurt him. She wanted the pain, welcomed it even; it was better than the silence she usually received.
Genevieve Xenakis was the cunning mate of Victor Van Slander, a crime lord she had met a couple of decades ago. It was like fate had brought the two of them together considering how rare it was for lycans to find their true mates. But her greed had gotten the better of her and she single-handedly ruined any chances of a happily ever after.
A sharp hiss came out of her plump, sensuous lips as she pressed an ice pack to the wound. She clamped her other hand over her mouth instantly, fearful that her mate would hear her cries of weakness. He detested all signs of the weak and only respected the strong and fierce. So she wiped her tears of regret and put on a brave face; she would need it for what she was about to do next.
Genevieve marched down the long-winded stairs, her back straight and her nose sticking in the air; a familiar smirk crawling on her haughty face. Her royal upbringing was showing and she intended to use it to make him suffer.
She sniffed trying to locate her mate’s scent. A look of panic contorted her soft features as she rushed down the remaining steps and raced towards the basement.
Please let them be alright, she begged. Her children were hidden down there and now their scents were mingled with Victor’s musky fragrance. She had underestimated his anger, foolishly leaving her two-year-olds vulnerable to the rage that was Victor Van Slander.
Please, please, please. Genevieve had no idea that her prayers fell to deaf ears. Lycans like her were not favorable in the eyes of the gods. A ramification of when the first beast challenged its creator - the moon goddess. Yet the mother prayed anyways. Deaf ears or not she needed a miracle to ensure that her cubs lived to see another day.
She reached for the basement door but it was jammed shut. Her ears rang as a menacing roar filled the otherwise quiet manor. She desperately flung her body against the door again and again and again. Come on, open. She refused to yield until the door fell off its hinges and crashed onto the basement floor.
She raced towards them as Victor let out another roar. The sound echoed through the walls and she blanched, fearing that she was too late. Her mate had tried to kill the twins before but she had always been there to protect them.
Please, please she persisted, only to falter when she arrived at the scene. Her shaking hands clasped over her mouth to silence her whimpering as her mate’s roars bounced off the basement's walls. Victor's body was lying on the cold floor, with sweat-drenched all over his pale, twitching body. She could feel every ounce of his pain through the mate bond. Over and over he writhed, his body twisting at strange angles, screaming her name while she just stood there and watched in a stupor. Short puffs of air escaped his mouth as he struggled to combat the poison in his system.
Genevieve knew that he wouldn’t die from the tiny bite mark on his wrist so she let him suffer. “Gen, Genevieve,” Victor gurgled until his body turned limp. His eyes watched her shaking form in rage. He sent her bursts of anger and loathing through the mate bond but she blocked him out. Instead, she focused on the little beast that stood beside her mate’s body, watching him suffer whilst wearing a blank expression on her face.
How was this possible. Her daughter Sarai - whose tiny fangs were dripping with blood - had fought off a strong and mature lycan. She had managed to awaken the power in the Xenakis bloodline at the young age of two.
Genevieve threw her head back and laughed until tears cascaded down her face; a response to the mixed feelings of pain and relief. Perhaps someone had been listening to her prayers and shown her a little mercy.
But Genevieve had celebrated too soon. She faltered as her wet eyes landed on the scarred face of her son Tahj. She roared in anguish as she took his little form in her arms. He was aggressively wiping the blood off his face as it continued to gush out of the deep wound on his brow.
How- she was left speechless at the child's state. Genevieve gently wiped his face with her dress and pressed on the wound forcing the blood pouring out of it to halt. She didn't notice the silent tears streaming down her face until his little bloodied hands started to wipe them away. My sweet baby, why on earth were you given my green eyes. She was sure that was the reason Victor had left a huge scar on his left brow, only inches from his jade-green eye.
Sarai climbed onto her mother’s lap, her presence instantly calming the younger cub.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered as the twins clung to her. “I’m so sorry my cubs.” Genevieve buried her face into their bright red crowns, the sight of it alone comforting her.
The sound of their sobs enraged her even further. She unleashed her fists onto her mate pounding and wailing at the damage he had done.
“How could you do this to a child? How could you be so cruel?”
His eyes almost rolled back from the pain she inflicted on him but she grabbed his face and forced him to look at her.
“It was my fault. I fucked him. I brought them into this world. They did nothing. Do you hear me? They did nothing wrong! You monster,” she spat as their cries amplified. I need to go. I need to get them out of here. She gathered her cubs in one hand and stood. Her mate moaned in objection but she fought her natural instincts to tend to him. He didn’t deserve her. As of right now, she was going to pick her duty as a mother over him.
The mate bond ripped at her soul but left her intact knowing that eventually, she would return to her mate. But she needed to get away for now. She had learned the hard way that it was impossible for her mate and her children to co-exist. So with a heavy heart and centuries of discipline, Genevieve walked out of her mates life, her children in one hand and her car keys in another.
