Page 25 of Season's Greetings
Howdareshe.
If anyone was guilty of possession and domination, of emotional manipulation—it was her. That quip about shackles? Being married to her had felt like a jail sentence.
And confusing silent strength for cowardice?
Just who the hell was she describing—because it wasn’t Daniel.
Saying he wasn’t built for love? She couldn’t be more wrong.
What made Matthew want to roll on the floor laughing was the idea that Claudia knew anything about loving anyone besides herself.
He was so het up he almost missed Orin’s next question.
“Bold words. Are you not concerned this paints your collective as hostile?”
Boom.
A blow Claudia hadn’t expected.
She was so used to getting her way that when things didn’t fall into place, the claws came out.
“I speak the truth. If packs want to protect their alphas at the cost of omegas, then let the city see it. Let mothers question if they want their sons bonded into outdated dominance. Let clients ask if Sanders & Sanders offers counsel—or coercion.”
Ha! Just as he’d predicted—Claudia was getting snippy.
But that bit about mothers questioning their sons’ bonds? Protecting omegas?
Pure comedy gold.
Matthew couldn’t hold back his laughter any longer. Claudia was delusional.
If his parents thought listening to her spew vileness about his bond mate was going to make him recant his choice, they were beyond wrong.
The interview wound to a close.
“You’ve certainly given the public much to consider. Thank you, Claudia. This has been illuminating.”
Claudia used that voice—the one she thought was charming and gracious.
“Let light find what dominance hides.”
Throughout the whole interview, Mr. and Mrs. Donald Hamilton sat primly, staring at their son like he’d grown two heads.
When he broke into laughter—tears running down his cheeks, struggling for breath—his mom picked up where Claudia left off.
“Matthew, Matthew darling, I don’t think this is something to laugh about. Claudia is sticking up for omegas against oppression. This just proves we were right to choose her for you.”
If Matthew hadn’t been sitting down, he would’ve fallen down.
All this time, he’d hoped his parents would see through her bullshit. See her the way he did.
But that would never happen.
That was becoming painfully clear.
They would never approve of Daniel. Or their relationship. Or their love.
Just like they never approved of his haircut. Or how he dressed. Or what color he painted the kitchen.
