Forbidden Passion

Chapter 2- Life in the Pack

Ashton POV

Bang. Bang. Bang. The knocking on my door startled me out of a deep sleep. I yawned and stretched, ignoring the banging at the door and looking for my phone to see the time.

“Ashton! I know you’re in there! Get up! I have a seamstress here to fit you in a new suit,” my mother’s voice floated through the door, and I furrowed my brows in confusion. What? What did she just say? New suit?

The banging continued, so I groaned and rolled out of bed, irritated and still tired.

I flung the door open and barked, “What?!”

Both women at the door looked terrified for a moment. My mother settled her expression first, and I realized that with my scar and my annoyance, I must look extra terrifying and ugly. I relaxed my face back into my usual stoic expression and look at her expectantly.

“Well, if you’re going to wake me out of a dead sleep at least have a good reason for it.” I grumbled. I’m not a morning person.

“Ahem, Ashton, I’m throwing you a mate-finding ceremony this weekend, and you need a proper suit.” My mother’s words took a second to register in my brain. I stared at her, dumbfounded, before stepping back and slamming the door in the ladies faces.

“Ashton! Open this door!” Mother was banging on my door again, but I was standing numbly behind it. Finally I found my voice.

“No.” It was simple, straightforward, and resolved.

“I won’t take no for an answer. Open this door, Ashton!” She yelled at me. She was getting agitated.

“What are you even thinking?! Why would you do this to me?” I demanded. Seriously. The last thing I wanted was to crash my own party by just showing up.

“I’m doing this for you, son. So you can meet your mate!” She called back. I could feel her frustration. It was only a matter of time before…

“Open this door!” The Alpha command rang out clearly, and I had no choice but to obey.

I swung open the door and faced my parents, glaring at them with all the irritation I could muster.

“I’m not going to…” I started, but the Alpha was way ahead of me.

“Oh, you’re going to do everything your Luna tells you to do,” he ordered with his Alpha voice. Ugh. I’m screwed.

I set my mouth in a lopsided line and opened my door, motioning for them to come in wordlessly. I looked up at my father and met his hard gaze, but then his face softened, and he reached for me, clapping his hand on my shoulder.

“We’re doing this for you, son. We’re worried about you. Just humor us. If it doesn’t go well, I won’t ask this of you again,” he promised softly. I looked into his eyes and saw the kind and loving father there that I had known before the attack. I didn’t see him often now, which was my own doing, and kept my head down when I was around him. Those gentle eyes actually evoked emotion inside me, and I felt the urge to cry.

I suppressed the agony I was feeling and just nodded coldly instead, gulping back the emotion that had threatened to spill out. He released my shoulder, nodded at me approvingly, and left.

I put my walls back up and turned to face the waiting females who had invaded my space. Of course my mom and dad loved me. They felt guilty over me being hurt in the attack, and my father had relentlessly tracked down many leads to find the culprit but came back defeated time and time again. Maybe the perpetrator was already dead and just wanted to hurt a kid out of malice before he died. Who knows? But whatever the reason, I was disfigured and hideous and these women were waiting to further humiliate me.

I ground my teeth together and stepped toward them. The seamstress looked a little frightened of me and looked to my mom for guidance.

“Hold out your arms for measurements, dear. That’s right. Just like that. Hold it. Got the measurement? Good. Now for his back and waist. Yep. I’ve got them. And hips?” She queried, but I jumped away from that contact. Too close to my, my, well, my privacy was being way too violated. That was one part of me that was impressive and intact. I didn’t want anyone but my mate near me there. Someone I could trust and be vulnerable with. Someone I could bare my body and soul to. Certainly not this aging, scared seamstress.

“Now, honey, it’s just a quick measurement. No need to get bent out of shape about it,” my mother soothed. The Alpha command my father had issued rang in my head, and I had no choice but to stand obediently still as my waist, hips, height, and inseam got measured. I ground my teeth in frustration, feeling thoroughly violated. Finally the measuring stopped. The seamstress had been rattling off numbers to my mother who had diligently penned them down, and she now departed with the paper, leaving me and my mother alone.

She stood there for a moment, just looking at me with a tender expression before sighing and sitting on my bed.

“Ashton, I’m sorry for the tragedies in your life,” she began.

“Which are further aggravated by my older brother,” I interrupted irritably.

She winced. She hated facing the shortcomings of her favorite son. She swallowed and continued, “but your father and I really are just trying to help you. We’re hoping that you finding your mate will finally give your life some fulfillment. You’re not meant to just fade into the shadows. Your life has a purpose,” she sounded so convicted, I almost believed her. Almost.

“Really? So what is my purpose? I can’t show my face anywhere without making people sick. It’s been seven years, and people still detest the sight of me. What is my purpose if not to remove myself from society so I don’t haunt the nightmares of innocent children?” I know I was being unfair to my mom, but I have all this anger bubbling inside of me, and she happens to be my only willing listener.

Pain flashed across her eyes as she assessed me. Her pain was replaced with resolve, and she got up and touched my scarred face gently, though I couldn’t feel her touch.

“It is not up to me to tell you what your purpose is in this life, but I can help push you along so you don’t become stagnant and forgotten.” She pushed my bangs back out of my eyes and gave me a painful smile.

“Forgotten? You mean like how I haven’t received a single present or even so much as a cupcake for my birthday in three years? But who’s counting!” I roared. My mom’s face froze in shock. Good. She needs to know how much it hurts me. “Just because I don’t say anything doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. Your other son gets huge parties with tons of gifts and decorations and all of his favorite foods. Don’t think I don’t notice. You’re ashamed of me. You try to hide me away…”

“Because I’m trying to protect you from awful people!” She interrupted.

“Because you don’t even know what I would like anyway! You don’t know anything about me any more. I’ll humor you with this mate ceremony, but once it’s over, I’m leaving, and I’m not coming back.” Even as I was talking to her I resolved this in my mind. I had no reason to stay. Nothing was holding me here. I felt immense pain at saying some of this stuff out loud. I had loving parents once, but they had no love for me any more. The son they loved died seven years ago. The man living under their roof now was a stranger.

I felt my hands shaking. I felt like a woman, but I needed a good cry.

“Now if that’s all,” I grabbed her shoulders and directed her out of my room. She seemed stunned into silence. I had called her out, and she had no rebuttal.

“I’ll see you for the party, and then you won’t have to worry about me any more,” I told her as I closed my door.

“I’ll always worry for you, my son,” I heard her whisper before her footsteps faded down the hall.

I listened for a minute, and once I was sure everyone was gone I went into my private shower, turned the water on as hot as it would go, and stood in there crying. I cried until I was shaking. The tears just kept coming from the well of emotions I usually kept under control. I just…I can’t…

“Just leave me alone.”