Bella’s POV
"There, you see? She’s only here for the cure. Once she completes her work, she’ll return to her human world," Lord Morris spoke directly to Serena, his words sharp and deliberate. Serena nodded in agreent, appearing satisfied now that I had confird nothing romantic had transpired.
"I believe it’s getting late, and you must be exhausted. We’ve arranged accommodations in the sa suite, so we should retire now. Derek, escort your wife to her quarters," Lord Morris commanded with authority, though his forced smile fooled no one.
The group began rising from their seats, preparing to leave in hushed movents.
However, as Lord Morris reached the threshold, he paused and fixed his gaze on the three of us remaining behind.
"Hugo and Parker, surely you’ve secured your own lodgings as well. Perhaps you should accompany . I wouldn’t want gossip circulating about you two remaining alone with her," he stated with feigned casualness.
"After all, Bella is no longer that bookish child from years past. She’s matured into quite an attractive woman. And you know how rumors spread when it cos to won like her," his comnt made my hands ball into fists behind my back, fighting to contain my anger.
My dislike for this man ran as deep as his obvious disdain for .
Hugo and Parker shared a aningful look before following the others out.
I was grateful they chose to leave without argunt.
The mont the door closed behind them, I exhaled deeply and pressed my palm against my forehead.
"What in hell just occurred?" I whispered to the empty room, making my way to the bedroom and collapsing onto the mattress.
"And you? You decided to erge after all this ti, yet you refuse to communicate with ?" I practically snarled at my wolf, but she maintained her stubborn silence as always.
That concluded my evening.
Sleep claid quickly, and dawn arrived with my children bouncing enthusiastically on my bed.
I prided myself on punctuality and typically woke before them, so oversleeping left feeling irritated and off-balance.
"Alright, little ones, co here. Stop that jumping around."
After completing my morning shower, I erged from the bathroom to discover them engaged in toilet paper warfare.
They had completely unraveled multiple rolls, racing around the furniture and creating white cocoons around every piece.
"Sweet heavens, what destruction is this?" I cried out, exhaustion weighing down my voice as I reached for the scattered paper.
"No! I refuse to let you clean it!" Tara’s explosive response caught completely off guard.
I knew my children intimately, and she had never addressed with such defiance.
My eyes locked onto hers, noting the fierce determination burning within them.
"If I choose to play, I’ll play exactly as I please," she declared, her tiny features twisted with unexpected rage.
"Tara, that’s not how you speak to your mother," I responded with careful gentleness.
She remained my baby, a child battling an illness beyond her comprehension.
Yet the way she shook her head and maintained that hostile stare left completely bewildered.
"Mommy, we don’t want to include her anymore," Leah spoke quietly, abandoning her toilet paper creation.
"She’s been commanding us around all morning. She even threatened never to speak to us again if we didn’t follow her orders."
Leah’s complaint accompanied her dash toward , seeking shelter behind my legs.
"I don’t want to be near her either. She hurt ! See, Mommy." Zack approached from my other side, displaying the small scratch marking his forearm.
Both children positioned themselves as my shields while I turned to confront Tara.
She no longer resembled my sweet daughter but rather soone prepared for battle, and I recognized this wasn’t Tara’s true nature manifesting.
In that instant, I understood this wasn’t my daughter speaking, but her condition taking control.
"You two return to your bedroom. I need to have a conversation with her, understood?" I spoke with asured calm, offering reassuring pats before watching them retreat.
They rushed into their room and slamd the door, demonstrating their genuine fear of Tara’s current state.
"Tara, what’s troubling you?" I asked with tender concern, reminding my daughter that her mother still cared deeply.
I lowered myself several steps away, then settled onto my knees with my legs folded beneath .
"Are you angry with Mommy? Have I done sothing wrong?" I inquired sweetly and observed her clenched fingers beginning to relax.
"I want to continue playing like this," she hissed, gesturing toward the toilet paper chaos covering our living space.
"Of course, we can both play like this," I agreed, reaching for the roll Leah had abandoned monts earlier.
As I began unraveling it and tossing streams into the air, I watched Tara’s reaction carefully.
The fury gradually disappeared from her expression.
Her small hands loosened completely.
She broke into a radiant smile and began bouncing excitedly, applauding my participation.
"I love you so much, Mommy!" she exclaid joyfully.
Those precious words following her earlier breakdown ant absolutely everything to my heart.
She rushed into my arms and embraced fiercely, her tiny arms circling my neck.
"I love you too, sweetheart," I whispered back, breaking our embrace to gently cup her soft cheeks.
"You never need to feel angry with Mommy. Simply tell her your wishes, and she’ll fulfill them, alright?" I spoke with infinite tenderness.
Her expression fell once more, but this ti guilt replaced anger.
"Mommy, I don’t understand what happened to before, but I’m truly sorry. I didn’t intend to cause trouble," she whispered remorsefully.
And there she was, my real daughter had returned.
My suspicions were confird.
The illness had completely altered her behavior temporarily.
She climbed into my lap and hugged again tightly.
"I wish we had our daddy here. Maybe then everything would be perfect. We’d be properly cared for, and you’d be protected too," she said, her small voice trembling with emotion and shattering my heart.
I held her close as my other two children erged from their room, running toward us and joining our family embrace.
I understood their curiosity about their father, but I had no answers to offer them.
Their father had created devastation and abandoned us completely.
"Mommy, is Uncle Zack really going to marry your sister? Why can’t he marry you instead?" Zack asked with childlike innocence, making my heart stop montarily.
With a strained smile and laughter that sounded forced even to my own ears, I answered carefully, "That’s not how relationships function, darling. He belongs with her because he loves her. For two people to marry, they must love each other deeply."
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