Piss Off, Alpha! You Lost Me Forever novel Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Chapter 3 A Better Mother

SOPHIA’S POV

I left the main house.

My wolf stirred restlessly in my chest, but my steps were firm. I refused to look back at that cold, imposing structure.

When I arrived at Damien’s private residence—Ashley’s current home—and stepped inside, her scent enveloped me immediately. A hint of milk and lavender, the shampoo I used to choose for her.

I hurried upstairs and pushed open her bedroom door.

She was sitting at her craft table, drawing. She looked up at the sound.

"Ashley!"

I rushed to her, pulling her into my arms. My daughter. The child I nearly died to bring into this world. I couldn’t help but press a flurry of kisses to her cheek. Her scent was the only pure thing left in my life. I had missed her so much.

"Mom, that’s gross." She wrinkled her little nose, wiping her cheek.

I smiled, though the comment stung. "I’m sorry, baby. I’ve just missed you so much."

She just shrugged, as if my longing were unnecessary, as if the months apart meant nothing.

My wolf whimpered low inside—a pup should crave her mother’s scent, her warmth, her closeness. But Ashley simply sat back down and resumed sorting her crayons.

"How have you been?" I sat beside her. "Did you sleep well last night? Are you eating enough? You—"

"Mom." She cut me off, not even looking up. "I want to go to East Street Preschool. Aunt Tiffany says it’s the best."

The words hit me like a physical blow.

Aunt Tiffany.

She said it so casually, so familiarly, as if... as if that woman were the one closest to her.

"If you want to go, I’ll enroll you," I said, forcing a smile.

Ashley nodded, but showed no excitement. She didn’t even smile at me.

I took a deep breath, choosing my next words carefully.

"Sweetheart... Mom was thinking... would you like to move back and live with me?"

I couldn’t bring myself to be direct yet, not ready to tell her we were leaving this place for good.

She finally looked up at me, confusion in her eyes.

"Why?"

"Because..." My voice trembled. "Because I miss you. I want to see you every day. I want to read you bedtime stories, have breakfast with you..."

"But Aunt Tiffany reads to me," Ashley said. "Her stories are way better than yours."

Each word was a knife, precise and cruel.

"And," she continued, a hint of disdain in her tone, "you’re always crying and sad when you come. Aunt Tiffany says it’s because you’re not well."

"Ashley..."

"Aunt Tiffany never cries," she interrupted. "She’s strong. She says I have to be strong too, not weak like you."

Every syllable was a laceration. My wolf flinched violently, a growl rumbling deep in my consciousness. Tiffany had been poisoning my child, twisting her perception of me.

"Baby, that’s not true," I said, struggling to keep my voice even. "Mom isn’t weak. Mom is just..."

"Aunt Tiffany says you’re afraid to have babies, that’s why you won’t give me a brother." Ashley’s gaze turned cold. "She says you’re selfish."

I froze.

"I’m not afraid." My voice shook. "Ashley, when I had you, I almost died. But I never regretted it for a second. I—"

"Aunt Tiffany says that’s because you’re fragile," Ashley cut in again. "But she says she’s strong. She can give Dad a brother. She says if Dad marries her, I could have a brother."

My hands clenched into fists.

"Ashley, listen to me—"

Her smartwatch lit up. Tiffany’s name flashed on the screen. Her eyes immediately brightened with an excitement I had never seen directed at me.

"It’s Aunt Tiffany!" she cheered.

I reached for the watch. "Ashley, we’re not finished talking—"

"It’s important!" She clutched the watch to her chest, looking at me with a hostility that was almost alien.

I recoiled.

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