Talons

Chapter 40: The Failure

Rhea’s POV

I am almost certain that since the creation of goddess studies, I am the only student who has ever failed the course. After a thorough beating from my mother, and a disappointed speech from my grandmother, I pleaded with the guide for a second chance.

I don’t like letting my parents down; they have been a rock in my life that I would have been lost without, and both my wolf and I would do anything for them.

The same is true for my grandparents who always protected me from my sisters. My mother would sometimes get too busy with luna duties to watch me, and because my grandparents knew that I needed extra care, they always made a place for me within their home. 

For them, I earnestly tried to be a model student, but I had successfully corrupted the class, and they began to question our guide about things that had nothing to do with the lesson. For example, one girl wanted to know why rejections due to promiscuity seemed to be the running theme for women; meanwhile, men were not expected to keep themselves 'whole'. 

A male student jumped in to answer, saying that girls were not as affected by their urges, which sparked a very sarcastic conversation between the female students about how people who have never lived as a woman always seem to be experts.

I had nothing to do with the discussion, but our guide glared at me the entire time. She was clearly irritated, and by the time she started to teach us about our sexuality, more than half of the class had mentally checked out. It didn't help that she wasn’t telling us things we did not already know.

For most of our species, a wolf would present itself around thirteen or fourteen years old. As the brain and body adjusts to the new entity dwelling within it, hormone imbalances occur, which results in what we call urges. 

While it is noted as worse in males, it does occur in females. I don't know which gender has it the worst, but based solely on the information the guide has given us, it sounds like the more testosterone one has, the stronger the urges.

I don’t know if our guide skimmed through the lesson or if that was all we were meant to be taught, but I found myself with more questions than answers. However, raising my hand to ask was pointless. The guide literally ignored me, and to be honest I don’t blame her. 

At the end of the class, I approached the guide of my own accord and genuinely apologized to her; to my surprise, she accepted it. By that point, we both knew I had failed the course, so there was no benefit of an apology, I just did not like the sorrowful expression our guide wore as she listened to my classmates make a mockery of her faith.

It was never my intention to undermine the guide or to stoke nonbelief, but that is exactly what I had done. 

As the guide was preparing to leave pack grounds, I approached her again, wanting to ask her questions since she had forgiven me, but she shocked me by denying my request. 

I don’t know why, but my wolf and I shuddered as she stared into our eyes with a look of pity. She rubbed my shoulders and sighed before saying that she would pray for the goddess to have mercy on me. 

I physically felt her sincerity as she spoke to me, and since then I have been terrified that the woman would report my actions to the council, but it's been weeks and I have heard nothing. 

Skepticism is a punishable crime; the werewolf council is largely based on the teachings of the goddess, and they act in favor of her gospel. Anyone who preaches against or teaches against the goddess is labelled a recreant, and while I did not state my agnosticism, I implied it.

I already have a tense relationship with a council member and likely his allies, so I sincerely hope that I have not pushed too far. I trusted the guide when she told me that she wanted to hear an older student's opinion, but I now know she was just being kind by trying to draw me out of my shell.

As if all of that wasn't bad enough, my mother barely speaks to me when she visits, which makes both Sylvia and I nervous.

We have been emotionally dependent on our parents for as long as we can remember. I can't explain it, but my mother has the ability to sway me to do her bidding, and even when I know what she is doing, I can't help it.

"Mommy, I don't like knowing that you are angry with me. I didn't fail the class on purpose; you know I wouldn’t do that." Instead of my mother answering, my grandmother suggests that I be sent to a place with ‘women of little faith.’ I flinch because that does not sound like a vacation to me. “Mommy?” I say in a pleading tone as I curl up next to her, tugging at her arm. “Lo siento.” (I am sorry).

I thought I made some leeway when my mother sighed and hugged me back, but she let me know that she is still angry by agreeing with my grandmother. I’m not sure what kind of place they are talking about, but the way they are saying it makes me feel like I don’t want to be there.

“Please don’t send me away. I’m a rogue; I’ll be killed.” My mother’s whole body stiffens as she considers the truth of my words. I didn’t mean to use guilt against her, but it is an undeniable truth. I am an alpha’s daughter with no pack. If I’m not ransomed or forcibly marked, I’ll wish I was dead.

“I want to believe you didn’t fail the class on purpose, but you tricked your father and I into-” I cut my mother off, vigorously shaking my head to tell her that she is wrong.

“I didn’t fail on purpose. I didn’t know there was a second level to the class, and if you want, I will take it over next summer.” My mother looks at me suspiciously before hugging me tighter. 

“You have to let go of whatever grudge you have against the bond. I have seen the damage your way of thinking can do to a wolf, and I don’t want that for you.” I know my mother is referring to her sister, who is still in Puerto Rico, but I don’t have any details about what actually happened to her.

“I don’t have anything against the bond. I just don’t like the idea of a stranger becoming my main priority,” I reply, and my grandmother lets out a chuckle that can only come from the vocal cords of an old woman. It’s rough, but tender, raspy yet soft.

She responds to my comment by telling me that she too did not want to be forced into love. I have never heard the full story of my grandmother's past, and I use her words to try and pry out more details.

“You already know I used to be a pack helper. Our alpha was terrible toward us, even worse toward omegas. I ran when his son started to look at me, he had not found his mate and because we were rarely visited by the council, many ranked members took underage mates.”

My grandmother told me that when she came to the states, she wasn’t expecting to find a mate. She said that she did not believe she had one, but she still prayed to the goddess on behalf of the mate she may have left behind. 

She moved from state to state, looking for a place where there was a Spanish speaking community, but as soon as she settled, she heard that her previous alpha’s son had followed her, so she fled again. She found herself in the Midwest, where she took a laborer job to support herself. 

My grandmother said she followed her nose to my great grandparent’s farm, where she worked without complaint before actually meeting the couple. They could smell that she was a rogue who had come in with their human day laborers, and she ran, knowing that her English was poor, and they would not understand that she meant no harm.

My great grandparents must have mind linked my grandfather, who was the one that caught her. She was so terrified that she didn’t even acknowledge the pull she felt toward him, and when he took her back to the pack grounds, she was still under the impression that she would be killed. 

My grandfather didn’t visit where she was being held, but he did make sure that she was treated well. She hadn’t known that he was making the arrangements for a Spanish speaking pack member to talk to her so that he could find out what his mate had done to gain a rogue status, which by Claw pack standards, was only done to criminals.

“Eventually the alpha’s son found me, but when he did, I was already fully marked and mated to your grandfather. The bond saved me, and I believe that it was my prayers to the goddess that made it possible.” I feel my heart ache as I force my eyes not to roll. 

It’s not that I don’t believe in the goddess, it’s just that I don’t think enough is known about the bond to build a life around it. What if it has nothing to do with the goddess and is some sort of manifestation of mental illness within the wolf community almost like a form of OCD? I have these thoughts, but I say something different.

“So, you fell in love with grandpa because he saved you?”

“No. It was because of the way he handled our situation. I thought he was going to reject me, but he took his time to get to know me. He spent hours teaching me, and only after my communication skills were good enough to hold a conversation, did he even mention our bond.” I understand what my grandmother means. She is talking about how patient my grandfather was with her, and I know from both Lark and Luke that his behavior is beyond rare.

“If he weren’t your mate things would have been different.”

“But he was,” my mother interjects. “That is what faith is; being able to look at something and not think of the what ifs that surround them.” I stay quiet because I have lost this round, but my opinion remains the same.