Page 61 of Alpha's Redemption

“I'm sure you're running out of bullshit to fine me for,” I tell him.

This is a waste of time, and it’s starting to irritate me. I rest my head back on the headrest, rubbing my hands over my huge swollen belly. I’m only nine weeks pregnant, but my stomach is already looking quite round. Macey was right; I’ll be the size of a house!

He examines my truck, writing more tickets and passing them to me—I stuff them in the glove box with the rest. Officer Cleo follows me all the way to the hotel, so I drive extra slowly, earning honks from drivers behind him.

Pulling into the lot, I see the place is nearly halfway to being finished, and I’m more and more excited to open it again. Yet, the bigger I get, the harder it’s getting to move around, and I’m constantly hungry and horny. Damn, am I horny! Poor Valen has his stamina tested frequently, that's for sure.

I speak with the project manager while waiting for my mother. She called yesterday, asking if she could go baby shopping with me. It’s such a bizarre situation for me to see her so supportive of this pregnancy, and I have to keep reminding myself things are different this time around. Yet, the same fears remain. Even with Valen's reassurance, I’m constantly waiting to be thrown out and cast away like last time.

I know a lot of it has to do with pregnancy hormones, but my anxiety levels are constantly through the roof. Sleep has become troublesome, not only for me but for Valen. As much as he tries to understand, I know he doesn't get the lock thing. Anxiety is making me paranoid, hormones are making me overly sensitive to everything, and the stress is getting to me.

I’m still talking to the manager when I see my mother's car pull into the parking space beside mine; we’re going in her car. I smile and wave when I see her. Quickly, I finish my conversation with the project manager before wandering over to her.

I climb into her car, placing my handbag between my feet before pulling my belt on, while she reaches into the back to retrieve something from the back seat.

She drops a bag on my lap. “I made them something,” she tells me, and I open it to find matching yellow crocheted booties and beanies. I smile and thank her, looking at how small they are. They look so tiny in my hands—it’s hard to remember Valarian being that little.

“We can go to Baby Bunting first if you like?” she suggests, and I nod.

“Yes. Valen said he would meet us for lunch, though,” I tell her. Every weekend now, my parents come over on Saturdays for dinner to spend time with Valarian. At first, Valarian was wary of them, although recently he asked me if he could go to training with my father. It’s a little odd and took some convincing for Valen. Valen has been taking Valarian along with him, but only to watch. He thinks Valarian is too little to train, but I was training from the moment I could walk, and I know my father won't allow him to get hurt.

We’ve merged pack training, so both packs now train in the arena every Sunday together. Any rogues that wish to attend also train with them. I attended the last one, and it was odd seeing my father training my son, so similar to the way he taught me.

For the most part, life is good. Even Ava is even training, and I can tell it means a lot to Mom that everyone is getting along again. However, pulling up at the baby shop, my mother is just staring out the window as she stops the car.

“I should have done this with you last time,” she murmurs, gazing blankly up at the store decorations. I swallow but say nothing.

“We failed you,” she adds, and I nod, not knowing what to say. They did, big time. I accepted it and moved on from that, or so I thought. My anxiety says otherwise. For the most part, though, I’ve come to terms with everything and don't see the point of dwelling on things I can't change—it’s in the past.

“You're here now. Let's focus on that,” I tell her, but she shakes her head.

“Nixon would have made you keep Valarian just to use him against you and your father. We knew that was no place for a child to be raised, amid war. We should have told you, protected you properly, and gone to Valen. We messed up. We thought we were protecting you, but instead, we destroyed you.”

“You think you destroyed me? You didn't,” I tell her.

“How can you say that? When your father came home and told me you were going to let us be a part of your life, I almost didn't believe him. After everything we did, we didn't deserve a second chance,” she says, staring off vacantly.

“No, you didn't deserve a second chance.”

She looks at me and nods, her lip quivering.

“But hating you won't hurt you, only me, and I haven't got time to hate, Mom. I haven't got time to harbor the sort of energy that would take. You say you destroyed me—yes, you did. And I'm not sure if I will ever fully forgive that, but at least some good came of it,” I tell her.

“Valarie?” she asks, and I nod. Valarie was a massive part of it. Mom knows Valarie took her place in my life, and I’m not afraid of hurting her feelings by her knowing that. Valarie’s influence in my life is greater than any passage of time I endured, but that isn't all.

“Yes, but also, through everything, I found myself. I grew up too soon, but finding my place came with finding my purpose—a purpose that was more than just being the Alpha's daughter. I found my identity, who I am, the person I was born to be. And that isn't in the shadows of another. With that comes acceptance, Mother. I am not some little girl anymore. I am not frightened of the world, because I saw it at its worst, lived and endured it, and it didn't break me. It stoked an inferno inside me to prove everyone wrong. It showed me I was more than an Alpha.”

Mom chews her lip. They think I hate them. I don't. I hate the things they have done, hate the feelings they invoked, but not them.

“I don't know if I would feel the same if our roles were reversed,” she admits.

“I used to put you and Dad on a pedestal, higher than life. I tried to live up to that ideal. Then it fell apart. I went from future Alpha to rogue. But there was one title that meant more than that—the title of being Valarian's mother,” I tell her and she smiles sadly and nods.

“And I was yours. I always regretted not fighting harder for you. I should have, as your mother. We wouldn't be here like this now, wouldn't feel awkward.”

So I wasn't the only one that felt odd. My family had become strangers to me over the years, but still, I love them.

“I gained so much more because of it, though. So for that, I don't hate you, because I found I was more than that title. More than your daughter. I just needed to climb my own pedestal and hold myself higher. Doing that made me see everything clearer than when I was just the Alpha's daughter. Now, I am a mother, a friend, a Luna, an Alpha, and I amme. So you don't get to claim that you destroyed me, because I wasn't born yet. I wasn’t built. And only I can destroy what I built. Only I can destroy my value. Because it isn't up to you to give it to me. Yes, at first, you destroyed me in a way, but I rebuilt myself—inmyimage and not that of others,” I tell her, reaching over to grip her hand. “And you're here now.” I squeeze it.

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