Chapter 82 What My Mum Took From Me
Cassain's Perspective
I slow my steps as I pass my mother’s office, already knowing what I’ll hear before I even reach the door.
“Good morning, son.”
Right on cue.
I stop with a quiet sigh, leaning against the doorframe instead of stepping fully inside. “Morning. I was just heading out.”
“Sit.”
The single word is firm, leaving no room for argument. She gestures to the chair across from her desk.
“Mother—”
“Please,” she says, softer now. “Let me speak to you. You’ve barely been home these past few months. I miss you.”
That catches me off guard.
She rarely sounds like that.
“I’ve just been busy,” I mutter, but I walk in anyway and take the seat.
“Busy?” she echoes, arching a brow. “Obsessed is the better word. I hear you’ve been deeply involved in that new law, but that doesn’t mean you disappear from your own home.”
I lean back, dragging my hands over my face, pressing my palms into my eyes.
I can’t remember the last time I slept properly.
Every time I close my eyes, it feels like the weight of everything presses down harder, expectations, duty, the constant reminder that I’m failing in ways no one will let me forget.
An heir.
Always an heir.
It’s gotten so bad that Violet and I have even talked about… other options.
The thought alone makes my chest feel tight.
“This law matters,” I say, exhaling slowly. “It’s meant to protect those coming from Zion’s Pack. If we get it wrong—”
“Cassain,” she cuts in gently, “you haven’t rested since the wedding.”
I lift my hands in mock surrender. “I’m fine.”
She studies me, her gaze sharp and searching.
“What is going on with you?”
“Nothing,” I say flatly.
“Is it Violet?”
“No. She’s fine.”
And she is. More than fine, actually. She understands more than anyone else right now. We exist in the same quiet kind of disappointment, bound by a situation neither of us truly chose.
If anything, she’s become… a friend.
“You’re never home,” my mother continues. “That girl barely sees you.”
I let out a dry laugh. “She doesn’t mind.”
Not like my mother did, back when she was the one being ignored.
For a moment, she presses her lips together, clearly holding back whatever sharp comment she wants to make.
“I assume you’ve heard the rumours,” she says after a moment.
I roll my eyes, already tired of it. “I don’t care. Let them talk. If they want to gossip about my marriage, about whether I love my wife or not, that’s their business.”
Her expression darkens slightly. “You know it’s not just gossip.”
I don’t respond. Because I do know.
“They’re questioning your strength,” she adds. “Your ability to lead. Your ability to provide an heir. These things matter, Cassain.”
My jaw tightens.
She’s right.
As much as I hate it, she’s right.
Reputation matters. Strength matters. If the Pack starts to doubt me, if they think I can’t give them an heir, If they lose faith in me, they’ll leave.
They’ll look for a stronger Alpha. Someone who can give them certainty.
And I can’t let that happen.
“Is this about Nova?”
My eyes close briefly.
Even now, just hearing her name hits harder than it should.
I’m tired of it.
Tired of how much power she still has over me.
“Why would it be?” I mutter, my voice rough.
“She was your best friend,” my mother says carefully. “You saw her every day. Now you haven’t seen her in six months. That kind of change isn’t easy.”
I let out a dry, humorless laugh.
“What?” she asks, frowning.
“Why do you even care?” I snap. “You’re the one who pushed her out.”
The words come out harsher than I intend, but I don’t take them back.
She sighs, rubbing her temples. “I would have preferred she stayed,” she says slowly. “But she became a distraction.”
I laugh again, this time bitter.
“A distraction? Yeah… she distracted me.” I shake my head. “Except now she’s all I think about. Every second of the day. Tell me, what do you think that’s doing to me?”
My voice comes out rough, strained.
I don’t bother hiding it anymore.
“You’ve always been too emotional,” she replies. “You need to control that. Redirect it into something useful—”
“Why would you do that to me?” I cut in, quieter this time.
That stops her. The room goes still.
“Do what?” she asks, but the way she shifts tells me she already understands.
I swallow hard.
“You’re my mother,” I say, my voice breaking despite everything. “You’re supposed to care about me.”
A tear slips down before I can stop it. I don’t bother wiping it away.
“Why would you force me into a marriage with someone I barely know… and send away the only person I’ve ever actually loved?”
The colour drains from her face.
For a moment, she just stares at me, like she doesn’t quite recognise the person standing in front of her.
I guess I don’t blame her. I’ve never spoken to her like this before. Never let her see this much.
Not as my Alpha. Not even as her son.
“Tradition requires—”
“Is tradition more important than me?” I cut in, my voice rising. “Can’t you see what this is doing to me?”
My hand presses against my chest, like I can physically hold my heart still, but it’s racing too fast.
“Trust me,” she mutters, looking away. “I’ve seen.”
“Then how can you stand there and act like it doesn’t matter?” My voice cracks. “It’s killing me being away from her.”
“I don’t even know who I am anymore,” I continue, quieter now, but worse somehow. “I wake up, I go through the motions, I do what’s expected… and I feel nothing. I’m just waiting for something to break me completely.”
Saying it out loud doesn’t help like I thought it would.
It just makes everything more real.
“You’re scaring me, Cassain,” she says, actually stepping back this time. “This isn’t normal. I’m starting to think she’s your mate.”
A hollow laugh leaves me.
“She is,” I say, without hesitation. “I know she is. And you’re the reason I can’t be with her.”
Her expression hardens immediately.
“It’s not just me,” she says sharply. “You’re the Alpha. You have the power to choose, but you also know what that choice means.”
I look away, jaw tight.
“You know what your Pack expects,” she continues. “Everything we’ve built depends on their trust. Marrying someone beneath that expectation? That’s how you lose it.”
I sink back slightly, letting out a slow breath.
Because I do know.
Power. Stability. Legacy. An Alpha doesn’t get to choose love over all of that, at least… that’s what I was raised to believe.
“I only doubt myself because of you,” I say finally, pointing at her. “Because you and father drilled it into me that being a good Alpha means giving up anything that matters to me.”
My voice shakes, but I don’t stop.
“You taught me that my happiness doesn’t count.”
She stands abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor.
“That’s enough,” she says, clearly shaken now. “You need to step away. Get some air. Calm down.”
I let out a quiet, humourless breath.
She won’t change. Not today. Not ever.
Even when she’s gone, her voice will still live in my head, telling me the same thing over and over again.
Duty first. Always.
“Yeah,” I mutter. “Maybe I do.”
I turn toward the door without looking back.
e