Page 6 of Savage Surrender

Mom flinches. “It’s not what you think.” Her fingers are crushing the edges of the photo.

“Were you sleeping with him when you got pregnant?”

Her head jerks up. “No.”

“Then tell me what happened.”

Mom looks at the photograph again. “Emmett and I dated before I met your father.”

“There is some confusion over who that actually is.”

“Gregory,” she says. “Gregory is your father, Bianca. Whatever that photograph means, it does not change who raised you. Who loves you.”

“I know who raised me. But something must have happened with Emmett?”

She sets the picture on the coffee table with both hands and stares at it, her eyes unfocused. “After I met Gregory, Emmett remained a friend. He and your father became close. We traveled... played golf together. He was present for a few of my heats before Winston was born.”

Winston rubs both hands down his face. “I regret asking any questions. Ever.”

I don’t. I keep looking at Mom. “You told me you could barely remember dating him.”

Her gaze drops to the photograph.

“Barely any time at all,” I say. “An unserious fling. You left out the part where he came to your heats after Dad was in the picture.”

“Bianca, what happened between the three of us wasn’t only mine to explain. Your father was in the garage with Winston, and you were asking questions I didn’t understand. I was trying to⁠—”

“Make it sound harmless?”

“No.” She presses her lips together. “Yes. Smaller, perhaps. I didn’t know what was happening to you, and I panicked.”

“You lied to me.”

Her thumb drags across the bent edge of the photograph. “About how serious Emmett had been, yes. Not about the injection. I believed what he told me when I gave it to you. That it was for your benefit. I went through every piece of paper I could find after you left, and I still don’t know what was in that shot. I haven’t called him. You told me not to.”

“And Dad was fine with this arrangement?” I ask.

Mom’s spine straightens. “Of course he was. It wouldn’t have happened otherwise. Your father was comfortable with it. A heat can be difficult for one alpha to manage alone, and a beta’s presence helps dampen the intensity.”

My dad sharing my mom is a hard concept for me to swallow. He’s always been super possessive.

I need to stop thinking about this right now.

“After Winston, that portion of our relationship ended,” she continues. “Your father and I settled into our life here. When we tried to have another child, nothing worked. Emmett offered to help. He was a trusted friend and a respected doctor.”

The chair in his office had an adjustable arm. The tourniquet tightened around my bicep, and his fingers tapped until a vein rose beneath my skin. The needle slid in while he asked about school, my interests, the awakening that never came, how I was feeling, whether I liked any boys. I answered his every question, then thanked him on the way out like a complete idiot.

“He used his own sperm instead,” I say flatly. I’m disgusted by the thought of it.

Mom shakes her head too fast. “No. We don’t know that. He wouldn’t⁠—”

“Look at me. Then look at her...”

She looks from the photograph to me. Back again. Her hand covers her mouth.

“No,” she says again, but it breaks in the middle. “He couldn’t have. I didn’t consent to that. I would never have—you think I would have let him near you if I knew? You weren’t presenting. Every appointment, every test, he said he was helping. He said you needed monitoring, and I believed him. He was my friend, and I thought⁠—”

“You thought he could fix me, but he’s the one who broke me.”