POV: SAINT
"Can I tell you a horror story?" Evelyn asked, before she proceeded. "When I was seventeen, I felt both nervous and excited about finding a mate. Almost every day, I prayed for a kind and loving partner. I dreamed of having lots of pups running around the house while I yelled at them to stop making a mess. That was what I wanted." She looked at Blake, gently brushing his hair, even though it wasn't dirty.
"When I turned eighteen, I met my mate, Sam. I already knew him from before. We weren't really friends, but we had chatted a few times. At first, I was a bit upset. You know why? Sam was two years older than me, so I wondered why he hadn't told me we were mates. No sign at all that he knew we were mates. But I let it go." She gave a humorless laugh. "It didn't matter. The important thing was that I had found my mate, and I was supposed to be happy. And I was, really. But... Sam? I sensed that he wasn't happy being my mate. It was just a feeling, a silly feeling, but I could tell."
Then she turned to me, her eyes filled with sadness. "Things got worse when I had a series of miscarriages. Eventually, I lost the ability to have children. Guilt consumed me. I felt terrible for not being able to give Sam a pup, forever. I couldn't fulfill my role as his Omega. I was sad, angry, and I hated myself. I couldn't eat or sleep. I was slowly slipping into depression, Saint."
She took a deep breath before continuing. "Sam? He never yelled at me. Instead, he was there for me and supported me. Even though I had lost my ability to have children, Sam remained by my side. He proposed that we adopt, saying he would be happy even if the child wasn't biologically ours."
She looked at Blake, her eyes shining with love and admiration. "That's how I got my sweet boy. My pup. We adopted Blake, and everything turned out wonderfully—much better than before. Remember that silly feeling I had? It vanished completely. Sam was happier than ever, and so was I. We finally felt whole. Blake completed us and brought so much joy into our lives."
She carefully placed a sleepy Blake on her lap, tenderly stroking his cheeks as she spoke. "A few months ago, Blake came home after one of his outings with Sam, and do you know what I noticed? He had scratches on his back—like damn bitch had dragged her nails down it. I thought maybe it happened at school, like he was being bullied. But no, the scratches seemed to appear every time he returned from being with Sam. And those outings were happening twice a month."
Tears streamed down her cheeks. "I had no idea they were getting Blake ready for some awful scheme, Saint. Poor Blake always came home with tears in his eyes. I didn't know what to do. When I asked Sam about it, do you know what he said? 'Blake is a boy, Evelyn. Boys tend to play rough with each other.' But I knew my Blake. He doesn't play like that. I knew my Blake."
"And then the attacks began. Whenever you would get attacked, he would start to hallucinate and whisper to himself in his room. I began to worry that he was having mental health problems. I felt terrified. Each time it ended, Blake looked completely exhausted. He wouldn't let anyone touch him and would cry himself to sleep. My Blake was in pain, Saint." She cried, and I could feel tears welling up in my own eyes.
"So, I took him to the doctor. The pack doctor said he was fine. When Sam found out I took Blake there, he got really angry and told me to just leave him alone in his room during those times. So, whenever it happened, he would lock Tom inside. That's when I realized Sam knew what was happening. What kind of father reacts like that to his child's struggles? Blake was suffering; didn't he see that?" She asked, almost to herself.
"I started watching him closely and keeping track of his movements. That's how I found out he had another way to sneak out and meet that witch after she was caught. It wasn't hard to see that my poor baby was being used as a little whisperer. Before you and Tom came to my house, do you know what Blake said to me? 'Mom, I'm scared. Tom saw me. Do you think he knows I'm the one? I don't want him to find out, Mom.' He was shaking when he said that. I could see the fear in his eyes."
"I was so exhausted from it all, and if I was that exhausted, I didn't want to imagine what Blake was going through. I wanted to take Blake away from everything and help him find happiness again. My Blake didn't deserve any of the terrible things those people did to him. He doesn't deserve this." She sobbed, holding Blake tightly.
I just sat quietly and listened to her share her story. I had no idea Blake had been through so much. That sweet, shy boy had been suffering. How could Sam put Blake through all this? Didn't he feel any remorse for his own child? Or was his plan all along to adopt a child just to use him against Jackson? But if Evelyn wasn't on Sam's side, then who was?
She wiped her tears with her dress. "I wanted to tell the alpha about him, but what could I say? I had no proof or evidence other than Blake's whispers and hallucinations. Blake already has a hard time socializing with his peers. The pack would just label him as crazy and treat him differently because he was the small whisperer. I didn't want that for him; that's why I wanted to take him away. My son was my top priority. That's why I wanted to run away with him."
Does she think I'm holding her responsible for wanting to escape? Most mothers would have considered doing what she did. I would have thought about it too.
"If I had succeeded, their entire plan would have fallen apart, right?"
Their? Does she know who's working with Sam?
"Before Marcus lost his memory, he told me that Ava was receiving orders from two other people in the pack. I know Sam is one of them… do you know who the other person is?"
She laughed, but it felt hollow. "Of course, I know."
The door banging against the wall draws our attention. Blake wakes up, looking scared. Sam steps inside with a calm look on his face, and Ava follows behind him.
"Didn't I tell you to keep quiet? How much did you tell him?" he asks, slowly approaching her. "But it's fine, I forgive you. You know why? You're both going to die anyway, so it doesn't really matter." A slow, creepy smile spreads across his face.