But her mother saw too much. Always had.
After a moment, Theresa rose to her feet. Tossing back her hair, she said, “You’ve grown up hard.”
Yeah, because being abandoned by her mother should have made her grow up easy. A growl built in Erin’s throat.
Jude’s hands came down on her shoulders. Squeezed.
She stiffened. He shouldn’t touch her. No. Don’t do that. Don’t show her any weakness.
Too late. Her mother’s gaze had already noted the telling move.
“Attached to her, are you, tiger?” She smiled and seemed satisfied. “I hope you’re a fighter.”
“I am.” Close to a snarl.
“Good.”
Her eyes raked Erin. “Long time, baby girl.”
Baby girl, her ass. This wasn’t some movie-of-the week reunion. “What do you want?”
A shrug.
Red lights danced before Erin’s eyes. “Then get out.”
Jude pulled her back against his chest. “Easy.” Breathed in her ear.
But she didn’t want to be easy. She wanted to scream. To rage. Like she’d done years ago.
The yellow eyes dropped. “Been looking for you,” Theresa said, lifting her hand to rub the back of her neck. “You disappeared on me. I got…worried.”
What? “You left me years ago. You knew where I was.” She hadn’t moved until her dad died. “Not like I was real hard to find.” Theresa had never come looking for her. Not once.
Still gazing at the floor, her mother said, “Not then. I…watched you then. Had to stay far back. You would have caught my scent.”
It wouldn’t have hurt more if someone had carved her heart out with claws right then.
“Lost you…a few months back.”
What? All that time? All that damn time, her mother had been close by—and she’d never contacted her. Why?
Theresa glanced up. Her mother had to see the question burning Erin alive because she said, “You didn’t fit in my world.”
Like Erin didn’t know that.
“I didn’t fit in yours.” Another shrug of Theresa’s shoulders. But this time, the move seemed…tired. Sad. “But I still…wanted to make sure you were okay. I-I needed to see you.”
Erin shook her head. Jude felt solid behind her. Strong and steady—just what she needed then. “You threw me away.” A whisper, one she hadn’t meant to voice.
That stare bored into her. “Had to. You couldn’t shift—”
She flinched.
“—and the pack would have torn you apart. No way were you strong enough to handle what they would have thrown at you.” Theresa’s shoulders set. “I did what I had to do in order to protect you.”
Erin stared at her mother. At the tense expression on her face. The steady hands. And she said, simply, “Bullshit.”
Theresa’s jaw dropped.
“You didn’t leave me on that doorstep because you wanted to protect me.” Not buying that. Not for a minute. Jude’s hold on her tightened. “You did it because you were ashamed of me.”
She saw the hit in the slight widening of her mother’s eyes.
“You think I didn’t know?” Erin asked, stomach knotted. “You think I didn’t see the way you looked at me?” Not a proud mama. Never that. Always pushing her into the shadows. Away from the others who might see her.
“You were supposed to be like me!” A scream of fury and pain that broke fast and hard from her mother’s lips.
“Supposed to shift and fight— just like me!”
“But I wasn’t just like you.” Sadness there. “I was like my dad.”
Theresa’s head jerked. “I should have been mated to the alpha! He loved me! We were supposed to be together, but then I screwed everything up and—”
“And had me.”
Her mother’s mouth snapped closed but she gave a grim nod.
Honesty, at least.
“You had me,” Erin continued, “and you didn’t think I was good enough for the pack—or for you.” This hurt.
“I wanted to be with him,” a stark whisper. “I loved him.”
Erin knew the him hadn’t been her father.
“He saw me,” Theresa said, voice soft. “Such dark, dark eyes that saw into me so well.” Her shoulders sagged. “He didn’t look at me the same way after he learned about your father.”
And what? That was Erin’s fault? Her father’s? Erin bit back the snarl that rose within her.
“When I got pregnant,” her mother said, “he knew I wasn’t his mate. Knew that somewhere out there, another woman waited…only a matter of time.” A tear trickled down her cheek. “I lost you.”
Not real hard to lose something when you threw it away.
“But first, I lost him.” She swiped away the tear with the back of her hand. “He left the pack before you were born. I-I kept thinking he’d come back, but he…turned his back on everyone. On me.”
Just like Erin’s mother had turned away from her. The woman wasn’t going to be getting any sympathy from her.
“Why did you come here tonight?” Jude’s gravelly voice.
Her mother blinked. “To…see Erin. I caught her scent at Mort’s. I wanted to…talk to her.”
“And what? Make up for lost time?” he demanded. “Or just jerk her around some more?”
Theresa’s hands fisted. “I wanted to make certain she was happy and safe. I didn’t know what you were to her, I was afraid—” She exhaled. “Shifters go after the weak.”
Weak. Was that how her mother truly saw her? Erin glanced down at her hands. Her claws were gone.
But they could come back in a second’s time.
“Other hybrids were in the pack,” her mother said, swallowing, “but you were the only one who couldn’t change. You were in danger, you were—”
“When I was fourteen,” Erin said softly, cutting through her words, “the girls in the pack jumped me.”
“What?”
“They thought I was weak, too.” They’d taunted. Teased. Then attacked her with claws and teeth.
But, luckily, they’d been in human form.
So she’d wiped the floor with their asses.
Erin met her mother’s shocked stare. “They were wrong about me, too.” She’d bet some of them still had the scars to prove just how wrong they’d been.