Chapter 61 Starting Point
Chapter 61 Starting Point
Lucienne's Point of View
The morning sunlight filtered softly through the curtains as I made my way to the pack house dining room. My conversation with Marc and Cole last night had settled some of my nerves, but the weight of everything I’d endured still pressed heavily on my chest. I tried to push it aside, to focus on the warmth of their steady presence beside me, but my thoughts kept circling back to the same point: I couldn’t keep bottling everything up.
I needed to talk to my mother. As a child, there were times when only a mother’s hug and gentle words would fix everything. I found her sitting on a reading bench in the main room.
“Lucienne,” she said, her voice warm yet carrying the natural authority she wielded effortlessly. She gestured for me to sit across from her. “I was just about to have some coffee. Would you care to join me?”
I settled into the seat beside her, the rich scent of freshly brewed coffee wafting from her cup. “Coffee sounds good,” I replied, though my voice felt heavy with everything unsaid. For a moment, we sat in silence, her presence as comforting as the sun streaming through the windows.
She poured the tea with steady hands, the faint scent of chamomile and honey wafting through the air. “How are you feeling?” she asked, her amethyst eyes studying me closely.
I hesitated, staring down at the rich, brown liquid swirling in my cup. “I’m… not sure,” I admitted finally. “Some moments, I feel like I’m fine. I am fine. Other times, I feel like I can’t breathe. Everything’s closing in, it comes rushing back all at once, and I can’t shake the memories.”
She nodded, her expression calm and understanding.
“I just…” My voice faltered as I twisted my fingers together, struggling to find the words. “I feel like I should be handling it better. Like I’m letting everyone down by—by not being okay.”
Her gaze never wavered, her presence a quiet anchor. “That’s normal, my darling Lucienne,” she said gently. “What you went through was traumatic. It would shake even the strongest of us. It would be more surprising if you didn’t feel this way.”
“I should be stronger,” I muttered, a familiar wave of frustration bubbling up. “I’m supposed to be the Royal Gammas, but I—”
“You are strong,” she interrupted, her tone firm yet compassionate. “Strength doesn’t mean you’re unshaken. It means you keep standing, even when the world tries to break you. And you’re still standing, Lucienne.”
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes softening further. The hand covering mine was warm and steady. “Lucienne, you are not letting anyone down. Healing takes time, and no one expects you to go through this alone.” She paused, her tone firm but compassionate. “Have you considered talking to someone? A professional?”
Her words hit harder than I expected, and I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I can arrange for you to speak with Dr. Simeon, one of the Kingdom’s finest psychiatrists. He’s happy to come here to help.”
I tensed at the mention of a stranger, but she quickly added, “He’s a caring, compassionate man, and his manner reminds me of your Uncle Tyler. You’ll be comfortable with him, I’m sure.”
The comparison eased my nerves slightly, but I couldn’t suppress a flicker of doubt. “Do you truly think talking to someone will help?”
Mother reached out, placing a cool hand over mine. “I do. I wish I’d done it when I was abducted. I got over it. I had to, really, since I found out I was pregnant with you and your brother. I was there after being stabbed with a silver dagger. Finding out I was Fae on top of that. It was all a bit of a whirlwind. But I know that
if you don’t let yourself feel all of it—the pain, the fear, the anger—it will continue to weigh you down. You deserve
Mother’s gaze didn’t waver, her voice gentle but unwavering. “I know it feels daunting, but you don’t have to carry this weight by yourself. Talking about it—letting yourself feel everything, even the pain—is how you’ll begin to move forward. I’ve already reached out to Dr. Simeon. He’s one of the best psychiatrists in the Kingdom, and he’s agreed to come here to meet with you. Would you give him a chance?”
The hesitation must have been evident on my face because she added, “You deserve to heal, Lucienne. And sometimes, letting someone help you is the strongest thing you can do.”
I took a deep breath, her words settling in my chest. “Okay,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll try.”
A warm smile broke across her face, and she gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “That’s all I ask.”
She leaned back slightly, her expression thoughtful. “There’s something else I wanted to discuss with you. I’ve been speaking with your father, and we think it’s time to move forward with your Luna Ceremony.”
My head snapped up, surprise and apprehension flickering across my face. “The Luna Ceremony?”
“Yes,” she said firmly. “The rogues abducted you to stop this—to break your spirit and prevent you from claiming your place. By going through with the ceremony, you’ll be sending a clear message to everyone: they failed. You’re still here, still strong, and nothing they did can take that from you.”
Her words stirred something in me, a spark of determination I hadn’t felt in days. The thought of standing before the pack as their Luna—of proving to myself and everyone else that I hadn’t been broken—was both terrifying and empowering.
“When?” I asked, my voice steadier than before.
“This weekend,” she replied, her smile filled with pride. “If you’re ready.”
I nodded slowly, the weight in my chest feeling just a little lighter. “I’ll be ready.”
——
Later that day, Dr. Simeon arrived at the pack house, accompanied by his husband, a cheerful man with auburn hair and a bright smile. Dr. Simeon was younger than I had expected, with kind brown eyes behind wire-rimmed glasses and a friendly, approachable manner.
“Princess Lucienne,” he greeted warmly when we were introduced. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Thank you,” I murmured, feeling a little nervous as I studied him. Mother was right. There was something about his demeanour that reminded me of Uncle Tyler—calm, steady, and effortlessly kind. It helped ease some of the tension in my chest.
Dr Simeon didn’t press me to talk immediately. Instead, he took the time to chat casually about his journey and the beautiful scenery around the pack house. His easy manner put me at ease, and soon enough, we were sitting in one of the guest rooms, the door slightly ajar to make me feel more comfortable.
He told me that Mother had already informed him of the situation before he came here. He didn’t have all the specifics, though. He also mentioned that he wanted to talk with my mates, but he would only discuss what I was willing to allow him to say.
“You can tell them what I say,” I told him. “I would never lie to anyone, let alone my mates.”
“It is not a matter of lying,” he answered. “You may find there are feelings and emotions you are dealing with, and may want to wait until you have dealt with them before letting your mates know.”
I nodded, letting him know I understood what he was saying.
“You’ve been through a lot, Lucienne,” he said gently once we began. “And it’s okay if you’re not sure where to start. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind right now?”
I hesitated, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. “It’s… hard to explain,” I admitted. “I keep thinking about everything that happened. About how I couldn’t fight back. How I was caught so easily. I’m supposed to be the Royal Gamma, the Gamma of Gammas, but without my Lycan, I couldn’t even break a pair of silver cuffs.”
Dr. Simeon listened intently, his expression calm and reassuring. “That must have been a challenging experience,” he said after a moment. “But I want you to think about something for me. If one of your friends—came to you and told you the same story, what would you say to her?”
The question caught me off guard, and I frowned as I considered it. “I’d tell them it wasn’t their fault,” I said slowly. “That they were put in an impossible situation and did the best they could.”
He nodded, his gaze steady. “Exactly. So why is it any different for you?”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I blinked rapidly, trying to process them. “Because I should have been stronger,” I whispered.
“Lucienne,” he said gently, leaning forward slightly. “Strength isn’t about never falling. It’s about how you rise after you’ve been knocked down. And from the bare bones of what I know about your situation, you’ve done that in ways most people can only imagine.”
For the first time in days, the tightness in my chest began to ease just a little. Maybe—just maybe—he was right.