My Mate Sent Me to Asylum Chapter 02

My Mate Sent Me to Asylum Chapter 02

I parked a few blocks from my apartment. Mask back on. Head down.

I didn’t even make it out of the lot before I slammed into someone.

“Watch where you’re going!”

That voice. Sharp as glass.

My heart stuttered.

My mother.

She didn’t recognize me. The friend beside her tugged at her sleeve.

“Come on. Don’t waste your time with her kind.”

She sniffed and walked off.

Seven years. More gray in her hair. Same meanness underneath.

I let myself into my apartment and peeled off my jacket. The mirror caught the scars crawling up my back.

Witch curses carved into my skin. Permanent. Irreversible. They made sure I could never return to the pack.

My mother was Luna of the Gray Moon Pack. Our family had led the pack for generations.

But she never liked me. I was an omega.

Until I turned ten. That was the year my healing gift surfaced.

The pack’s reputation exploded. Money poured in. Everyone said I’d surpassed my father. Even my grandfather.

That same year, I became the mate of Charles Blackwood. Alpha of the Blackwood Pack.

Storybook ending. Right?

Then a rogue she-wolf showed up. Her name was Iris. Charles warned me not to get involved. I didn’t listen.

I took her in. Funded her life. Taught her everything I knew about healing Alphas.

Iris was sharp. She knew how to make my mother laugh. Charles dropped his guard. Started feeling sorry for her.

And then. Slowly. Everything shifted.

First it was little things. Charles mentioned her more often.

Then he started packing her lunches. Memorized what she liked. What she couldn’t eat.

When I asked him about it, he just smiled. “She’s your student. I’m your mate. She’s got nothing. I’m just being kind.”

I believed him. God, I believed him.

Until…

Three months pregnant. I slipped in the bathroom.

I called Charles. Over and over. Nothing.

By the time my mother got there, the baby was gone.

She slapped me hard. “Clumsy bitch.”

Charles showed up later with Iris in tow. He dropped to his knees beside my bed. Grabbed my hand. “Iris had a reaction. Allergic. They said she almost died.”

“I should’ve been there. I’m sorry. God, I’m so sorry.”

I stared past him. At Iris.

There was a small bruise on her neck. Faint. Purple. Unmistakable.

Cold water hit my face. Dragged me back to the present.

I turned on the shower and let the spray beat against the old scars. An hour. Until my skin was raw and red.

When I stepped out, a text was waiting. [Your mother’s birthday. Two days. I’ll come get you.]