Alpha's STOLEN Mate Chapter 155

Evelyn

I left my friends behind and made my way through the castle's winding corridors, each step feeling heavier than the last.

Ten years. It had been ten years since I'd last seen her.

The guest quarters for distinguished visitors were lavish—all polished wood and expensive tapestries. I found her room easily enough and stood outside the partially open door, watching.

Arabella sat at an ornate desk, her vibrant red hair cascading down her back exactly as I remembered. Still that same impossible shade of crimson that never seemed to fade or dull with age. She was completely absorbed in whatever document she was drafting, quill moving with practiced precision across parchment.

That expression. That intensely focused, don't-disturb-me-I'm-working expression. I'd seen it a thousand times as a child. It always preceded her waving me away, telling me she was too busy for whatever trivial thing I needed.

The sight of it made something sour twist in my stomach.

I stood frozen in the doorway, uncertain how to begin. My purpose was clear enough—I was here to tell her exactly how much I'd hated everything she'd forced on me, to finally voice all the resentment I'd never been allowed to express. But actually starting that conversation? My throat felt tight.

Just as I steeled myself to step inside, she stood abruptly and turned around.

Her eyes found me immediately, as if she'd known I was there all along. A pleasant, diplomatic smile curved her lips—the same smile she gave to political allies and business partners.

"Evelyn! You came." Her tone was warm but utterly unsurprising, as if my appearance was merely expected rather than momentous. "How lovely to see you."

The casual greeting—after a decade of silence—ignited something hot and furious in my chest.

"Arabella." I refused to call her 'mother.' "I'm your daughter. We haven't seen each other in ten years. And *that's* the best reaction you can manage?"

She walked toward me slowly, still wearing that infuriatingly calm expression. "Oh, Evelyn. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist seeing me at least once before you left. You always were predictable in that way." She reached out as if to touch my hair. "Good girl."

"Don't you *dare* call me that!" I jerked back from her hand.

She let it drop, completely unbothered by my rejection. "My, my. Where's your emotional control? All those lessons in composure I arranged, and you still react like a temperamental teenager." She tilted her head, studying me. "Speaking of which—I heard you're planning to leave with that vampire? To visit his territories? That's excellent news! I'm genuinely pleased you're finally taking initiative in building useful connections."

I stared at her, completely thrown. "What? No—that's not—I'm going because I'm *bored*, not because of some political agenda you're imagining!"

"Really?" Her eyebrow arched with obvious skepticism. "You do realize that 'green-eyed vampire' is Zane Corvinus? He controls one of the largest vampire territories in the eastern regions. Quite influential." She moved back to her desk, picking up her quill again. "And trust me, darling, he has a documented weakness for powerful women. Given your considerable abilities—which I know you possess even if you waste them—you could absolutely capture his interest."

She glanced at me over her shoulder. "If you manage to form a genuine partnership with him, I'd seriously consider elevating your status within the Witch Coven. Perhaps even a seat on the advisory council—"

"STOP!" The word exploded out of me. "Just stop! I didn't come here to listen to more of your political scheming! I'm never letting you use me again! Never!"

This was exactly what I'd feared. She hadn't changed at all. No remorse, no self-reflection, no acknowledgment of the damage she'd done. Just more manipulation disguised as maternal concern.

Arabella turned fully to face me, her expression shifting to something almost tender. She reached out and lifted my chin, forcing me to meet her eyes.

"Use you? Is that truly what you think I was doing?" Her voice was soft, almost hurt. "Everything I did was to ensure the best possible outcome for everyone involved—including you. That vampire, Zane? He's one of the most honorable politicians I've ever encountered across any species."

Her thumb brushed my cheek in an unwanted gesture of affection. "I've seen how passionately he loves, how fiercely he protects what's his. If you built something real with him, I genuinely believe you would never regret it. This isn't about political gain, Evelyn. This is about your happiness—"

"FUCK THIS!" I wrenched away from her touch. "I was wrong to come here! This was a mistake!" I spun toward the door. "I'm leaving!"

"Wait." Her voice carried a note of genuine frustration—maybe the first real emotion I'd heard from her. "Fine. You're still the same stubborn girl you always were. I won't push the Zane issue anymore."

I paused, my hand on the doorframe, not looking back.

"Just tell me," she continued, her tone shifting to something more personal, more vulnerable than I'd heard in years. "Why did you really come here today? What did you need to say to me?"

That tiny crack in her armor—that brief glimpse of actual maternal feeling—gave me the courage to face her again.

I turned slowly, letting all my rage and pain show on my face. When I smiled, I knew it looked wrong, twisted.

"I came to tell you that I hate you." Each word was deliberate, sharp. "I hate everything you did to me. I hate your machine-like coldness—no, worse than a machine. You're cold like a vampire, bloodless and dead inside." My voice rose. "And I'm done blaming myself for failing to fit into your plans! All those years I thought maybe I was stupid, maybe I was broken, maybe I was the problem. But I wasn't. It was always you!"

I remembered being seven, eight, nine years old—constantly wondering why I couldn't be the daughter she wanted, why I kept disappointing her, why I felt wrong all the time. The self-hatred she'd instilled in me without even trying.

Arabella was silent for several long seconds.

I held my breath, waiting. Whatever her reaction—anger, denial, defensiveness, even tears—I could handle it. I was ready for anything.

Except what she actually said.

"Oh. Okay. Noted."

The words were light, dismissive, utterly casual. Like I'd just informed her of a minor scheduling conflict.

It felt like punching a wall of cotton—all that built-up force with nowhere to land.

I couldn't look at her anymore. Couldn't stand that placid, unmoved expression. I needed to hurt her the way she'd hurt me, needed to provoke some genuine reaction.

"And one more thing!" I was shouting now, past caring about dignity or composure. "I'm never seeing you again! You can consider me dead! I'm not going to think about you, not going to wonder about you, not going to waste one more second of emotion on you!"

I sucked in a breath, delivering my final blow. "And remember this—you are a *failure* as a mother! The most spectacular, complete, utter failure of a parent who ever existed! You failed me in every possible way!"

This time her response came immediately, that pleasant smile still firmly in place.

"God, Evelyn! I've never claimed to be a good mother! You know the truth as well as I do—effective politicians make terrible family members. The skills don't overlap." She shrugged elegantly. "But you're absolutely right about one thing. We really don't need to see each other again."

I nodded stiffly, my throat tight. "Fine. Good. I've said everything I needed to say. Goodbye."

I strode toward the door, ready to finally escape this nightmare.

But then I heard footsteps behind me—hesitant, uncertain. Arabella's footsteps.

I stopped walking, surprised despite myself. Was she actually... feeling something? Experiencing genuine emotion?

"Wait. One more thing."

I remained frozen, not turning around, my hand gripping the doorframe. "What?"

There was an odd pause. When she spoke again, something in her voice was different—less controlled, almost reluctant. "After you leave on your trip, once you've left this pack... I'd suggest you don't come back."

That made me turn my head slightly, though I still didn't look at her directly. "Why?"

Another pause. Longer this time. I could practically feel her internal debate.

"Oh, it's nothing really. Just a thought." Her diplomatic mask was sliding back into place, I could hear it. "Just... you should probably keep your distance from your friend. From Elowen."