My Second Chance Mate is a Barbarian (Sera and Fenris) novel Chapter 184

Elara

"Shut up, Kaelen."

The wolf went quiet instantly. The silence in the warehouse became a physical weight. I could see the other wolves looking toward Kaelen out of the corners of their eyes, then quickly looking away, their bodies stiffening as they tried to become invisible. They were terrified of the man who didn't smell like them.

Aldric’s focus snapped back to me, the warmth returning to his face as if the interruption hadn't happened. He smiled again, continuing the conversation like we were having tea in a garden.

"Like I was saying, Elara. All I want is a little companion. Someone to talk to." He paused, his eyes brightening. "Do you read? Humans love to read, don't they?"

I swallowed. My throat felt like it was full of sand. I looked behind me, back at the crowd of women huddled in the dust. I saw my mother and my sister. Their eyes were raw and red from weeping. They were watching us, their faces pale with a kind of fear that transcended death.

"I... I don't..." I started, but my voice failed me.

Aldric followed my gaze. He looked at the two women who were clinging to each other in the line.

"Is that your family?" he asked.

I looked back at him. My heart was thundering so loud I was sure he could hear it. What happens when I say yes? If I say they're mine, does he take them too, or does he use them to hurt me?

Slowly, I nodded.

Aldric’s smile broadened. He didn't even look away from me as he raised a hand. Two guards from the side marched forward immediately. They didn't hesitate. They reached into the crowd and started dragging my mother and sister out by their hair and arms.

My mother shrieked. My sister started to wail, her voice a thin, piercing sound that cut through the warehouse.

Aldric’s face darkened instantly. He snapped at the guards, his voice finally carrying a sharp, lethal edge. "You idiots! Be careful! Don't you understand that you are supposed to treat women with respect? Look! You are hurting them with your strength. Are you all animals?"

But Mother... she was a nurse. She was the only one in our village who knew how to handle a difficult birth. That day, I’d heard them arguing in the bedroom. I could still hear my father’s voice, low and urgent, telling her to leave the patient and just get in the damn wagon.

Mother’s argument was always the same: one more day. She couldn't leave a woman in labor when she was the only one who could help. The woman didn't have the funds for a hospital; if she did, she wouldn't have been in our godforsaken village in the first place.

So we waited. We waited one more day.

The village was raided at midnight. The pregnant woman died with her child’s head still dangling outside of her. My father died trying to bar the front door with a wooden chair.

Now, Mother was living with a guilt so heavy I could literally smell it on her—a pungent, sour scent of self-loathing. She looked at me, mouthing those words again. I’m sorry.

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