Mated For Revenge

CHAPTER TEN: A Possibility

KNOX’S POV:

The living area is cloaked in a tense silence as me and Rebecca settle into the couch and the sofa respectively, while Catherine guides Maxinne up the stairs.

Rebecca's eyes bear into mine, her expression a mix of reproach and defiance.

"You're not making this any easier, Knox," she says, her voice laced with accusation. "Possibly exposing our family's secret, possibly putting Maxinne's life in danger—how could you be so careless?"

My jaw tenses, but I refuse to let her words rattle me. "I'll do whatever it takes to keep my daughter safe. And as for our family's secrets, they’ll continue festering in the shadows."

Rebecca scoffs. "You’re never the reckless one, you’re always the smarter one. That’s why mom and dad always favored you over me. But now, I wonder how they’ll feel if they find out that you’re not just allowing humans into your house, but also hitting on one?"

Ignoring her barb this time, I cut straight to the heart of the matter. I demand, my voice sharp with impatience, "What are you doing here anyway?"

A smirk tugs at Rebecca's lips, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. "I'm here to make things easier for you. One last time, Knox. Let me take care of Maxinne in my home. So we won't have to waste time attending the custody hearing."

Though I’ve heard this from her several times before, I can't help but to harden my gaze, a flicker of anger igniting in my chest.

"I think you already know my answer to this," I declare, my voice a low growl. "I'll fight tooth and nail to keep her with me. So stop wasting your time coming back and forth here."

Rebecca's smirk widens, a glint of mockery dancing in her eyes this time. "Don’t you ever think that your human mate can do so much against me. I’ll make sure that the court won’t favor you even if you already found Maxinne’s future legal guardian.”

Rebecca is a dangerous woman. Now that she’s threatened about Catherine’s role in Maxinne’s and my life, I won’t be surprised if she involves her in her dangerous scheme.

Just when I’m about to clear Catherine’s name from this mess, I suddenly reconsider. What if it’s better that Rebecca is threatened?

I cross my legs and my arms as I lean on the couch. Then I say as coldly as I can, “If there’s nothing else, leave.”

Rebecca's expression has a flicker of defiance, but she says nothing as she rises from the sofa and makes her way to the foyer. With a graceful exit, she disappears through the door. I rise from my seat, my steps measured as I make my way to the window overlooking the driveway. Outside, Rebecca's car idles. As the sound of her car fades into the distance, I cross the room to a small table by the door, where a remote control lay waiting. With a press of a button, the gates swing open, allowing Rebecca’s passage beyond the confines of my home.

I retreat back into the living area, greeted by the air that seems to hang heavy with the remnants of the earlier confrontation. As if summoned by my thoughts, Catherine emerges from the staircase. There’s concern etched into her small face, the worry that mirrors my own.

"Where's Maxinne?" I ask, my voice softer than I intend, betraying the undercurrent of apprehension that pulses through me.

"She's fallen asleep in her bedroom," she replies gently, pointing at the top of the stairs. "I think all the crying earlier must have exhausted her."

Nodding slowly, I sink down onto the sofa, the weight of my mental exhaustion settling like a heavy blanket over my shoulders. I’m expecting Catherine to leave just as she's about to do before Rebecca’s arrival. As I glance at her, a question lingers on the tip of my tongue—a question I want to ask but fear the answer to: What excuse should I say for her to stay after I cold heartedly demand her to get out of my house?

Catherine walks, her footsteps soft and deliberate. This time, I refuse to look at her leave, refuse to see her out of the door. But to my surprise, she stops before even reaching the foyer. She sits on the sofa beside me, making me meet her worried and curious gaze.

"I know I'm not in the right position to know what's happening in your life," Catherine begins, her words and tone measured and cautious, "But I want you to know that I'm here for you, if you're willing to let me help."

I consider her offer. But what kind of help can I ask from her? Will she even understand the complexities of my situation?

As I search her gaze, something stirs within me—a flicker of hope, a glimmer of possibility. And with a heavy sigh, I find myself opening up to her, my words tumbling forth like a dam that has finally burst.

"I'm in the midst of a custody battle with my older sister. She's determined to take Maxinne away from me, to tear her away from the only home she's ever known."

Catherine's brow furrows, her eyes widening. "The woman from earlier… is she your sister?"

I nod. "Her name is Rebecca. And she's been a thorn in my side for as long as I can remember."

“But why does she want custody over Maxinne?” Catherine asks.

"Five years ago," I begin, my voice tinged with sorrow and regret. "Maxinne was just a newborn when my wife was killed by humans. My late wife and I, in our wolf forms, were in a hunt that we do once in a while to keep our wolf side in check. Then tragedy struck… we’re attacked by humans, a couple. I was able to dodge their bullets and kill them both, ripped their flesh apart, but I was unable to save my wife from them.”

I inhale audibly as I try to avoid reliving that painful day. Catherine’s hand rubs my shoulder for comfort, which helps mitigate the pain of that memory.

“Left to raise Maxinne on my own, I had thrown myself into my responsibilities with a single-minded determination, juggling the demands of fatherhood with the pressures of running a corporate empire. But in this day and age where werewolves are an almost non-existent breed, where our existence is shrouded in secrecy and fear, finding caregivers for Maxinne has proved to be a challenge. And so, I rely on humans to take care of Maxinne. But since Maxinne is still young, she still can’t control her transformation.”

Catherine's eyes are filled with compassion as she listens to my tale of loss and struggle. "Do Maxinne's babysitters and tutor know about... about what you are?"

I shake my head, a bitter smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "No. You're the only one who knows. The only one who's seen Maxinne’s transformation… yet."

"I understand now why your sister is worried, but what I don’t understand is how come the custody battle will solve your situation?” Catherine asks.

I lean my arms against my lap and clasp my hands together. “Rebecca is using the excuse that I'm barely home to take care of Maxinne against me in court. My lawyer had warned me that Rebecca has a shot at winning the custody battle—a prospect that fills me with a bone-deep dread.”

Catherine shifts her position, her body language manifests discomfort. But before she could voice out that discomfort, I add,

"But there are options that my lawyer laid out for me. One option is to sell my corporate business and start a small online business so I can always be at home with Maxinne."

I pause, actually stop, allowing silence to spread. Though I know that Catherine is sensing my hesitation, she still presses me for the second option.

“And the other option?” she asks.

My gaze drops to the floor as if unable to meet her probing stare. But eventually, I summon the courage to speak.

"The second option is for me to... to remarry," I admit, my words heavy with shame and self-doubt. "The problem is, I can’t find a she-wolf who can become Maxinne's legal guardian, who can take care of her when I'm not there."

“Is it really required for Maxinne’s legal guardian to be a she-wolf?”

My breath catches in my throat as I gawk at Catherine. I’ve always considered that the legal guardian for Maxinne has to be a she-wolf—a requirement born out of necessity, a safeguard against the dangers of exposure.

"She has to be since she won't expose her own kind."

Catherine's next words catch me off guard once again, sending a jolt of shock coursing through my veins.

"But I won't expose you," she says, her voice steady and resolute.

I blink in disbelief, unable to comprehend the magnitude of Catherine's declaration. For a moment, we sit in silence. And then, as if sensing the growing discomfort in the air, Catherine attempts to brush off the awkwardness with a nervous laugh.

"Never mind, forget what I said," she mutters, her voice tinged with embarrassment.

She then rises to her feet, but before she could make her escape, I reach out and gently pull her back to her seat, my gaze locking with hers in a silent exchange of sultriness. The tension between us crackles like electricity, the air thick with unspoken words and unspoken desires.

"Catherine," I swallow, before continuing, "Will you... will you be willing to marry me and become Maxinne's mother once you divorce your husband?"

In the heartbeat that follows, Catherine's response comes without hesitation, her voice filled with a quiet resolve that stirs something deep within my soul.

"Yes," she breathes.

Time seems to stand still as I pull Catherine into my arms, my heart soaring with a newfound sense of hope and possibility. I press my lips to hers in a kiss that speaks volumes of the romance and desire that has long laid dormant within me.

Our bodies are pressed together with an urgency born of years of longing, our hearts beating in sync as we lose ourselves in the heat of the moment. With every touch and every caress, the pain of the past and the struggle of the present fall away, leaving nothing but the raw intensity of our connection.