Chapter 16 - Secret Room

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I was frozen for several seconds before I could even begin to think of the appropriate thing to say in this situation. My mate just told me that his mother had been murdered. Honestly – how was I supposed to reply to that?

"I'm so sorry Dean. That's terribly tragic, especially for a child," I said quietly, staring up at my mate with wide eyes.

"It's no more tragic than the way you lost your mother, or what you endured afterwards," he replied, his face completely straight and serious.

"Did you...did you ever find out who did it?" I asked quietly, scared to hear the answer.

"My uncle," Dean said simply. "My father's brother, Casper. He claimed to be in love with my mother, but he couldn't have her since they weren't mates. He killed her with the idea that if he couldn't have her, no one could."

Dean said all of this so calmly, although I was able to detect the tiniest hint of remorse in his voice. I imagined it was something he was able to process and accept better as the years went on, especially being the kind of hardened man that he was.

"That's awful," I murmured, looking down to the floor in disbelief.

"Yes," he replied. "So, when I took over as Alpha, I killed Uncle Casper myself."

My head snapped up to face Dean again. I had known that my mate was dark, serious, and perhaps a bit troubled, but a killer? Sure, I'd imagined he'd killed in battle or when necessary, but his own uncle? It was a lot to process, but ultimately, I decided not to question him on it. The man killed his mother, after all.

Seeming to want to change the subject, Dean walked across the room to a different painting, and I was quick to follow. I stood next to him as we both stared up at the large portrait in front of us. This one was of a woman. It only showed her from the waist up, and she was beautiful. She had long, dark hair and fair skin that appeared slightly sun-kissed and dotted with freckles. Her cheeks were rosy, her jaw was sharp, and her eyes were bright, crystal blue.

"That's the only self-portrait my mother ever painted. She painted it when she was very pregnant with Stefan because she said she felt that was when she truly felt beautiful – when she was carrying or caring for her children," Dean explained, his voice serious despite the emotional depth of his explanation.

I felt my eyes water a bit, but I was determined not to let any tears spill. Dean's mother seemed like a truly beautiful woman, both inside and out, and her life was ripped from her at such a young age. She was ripped from her sons, who she clearly adored. It wasn't fair, and it made me mourn for my own mother as well.

"She was from the Moon Wave pack. She was good...pure. I still don't know how or why the Moon Goddess paired her with my father, just like I don't understand why she paired me with you," Dean said, causing my heart to nearly stop.

I looked over at him, fear evident in my eyes. He didn't think we should be together? He didn't believe we were a good match? I understood his skepticism, in a way, but I also believed the Moon Goddess didn't make mistakes.

Sensing my confusion and hurt, Dean reached out and gently cupped my cheeks with his large, rough hands, "I'm glad that she did. I'm just saying that I don't understand why she would bless me in such a way. I am not a good man, Audrey."

My heart grew warm and my muscles relaxed hearing such a confession come from my mate. He still wanted me and was glad that I was his mate. The only unsettling part was how he felt about himself. While I knew Dean was rough around the edges, strict, difficult, and certainly not a saint, I knew there was good in him.

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