That's Not Right

*Rowan*

“Mara!”
I wrap my arms around my sister and fight the tears that threaten to spill from my eyes. It’s been a long time since I’ve broken down and cried, and I don’t want to take the chance that King Solomon might somehow see me crying now, but I can’t help it. My sister is finally back in my arms.
“We need to go, Alpha,” Dean says, his tone all business.
He’s not wrong. While thus far the exchange has been peaceful, neither of us would put it past King Solomon to get Hezzlie out of harm’s way and then attack us.
I gesture for Mara to get into the car and then climb inside after her. The driver immediately turns us around, and we start to head back to our home.
With every roll of the vehicle’s tires, the pain in my chest and in my mark grows more intense. I have to ignore it. I have no choice. The further away from me my mate is, the more it will hurt, but I can fight through it. My joy at having my sister back has to be enough to overcome it.
“How are you?” I ask her. She looks well, physically, though she appears to be in shock. Her eyes are a bit unfocused, and she seems out of sorts.
“I’m fine, brother.” She folds her hands in her lap and stares straight ahead. “How are you? How is Mother?”
“She’ll be so happy to see you,” I tell her, ignoring her first question. “You aren’t hurt in any way, are you?”
“No.” She shakes her head only slightly. “They treated me well.”
“I am relieved to hear that. I’ve done everything I can to get you back.”
She only nods again.
We drive in silence as I try to decide whether or not I should say more. It seems she is not in a mood to talk, and that’s fine. We’ll get home, and I’ll ask James to look her over. Mother will want to see her as soon as possible. Then, tonight, we’ll have the ball. Mara has always loved dancing.
A rush of memories floods over me as I think about all the wonderful times we shared together growing up–not just at balls and other celebrations but just as children playing together. We’d go out into the woods and play different games, sometimes with other children who lived at or were visiting the kingdom at the time. She was always joking, telling stories, daring me to do tasks that were either gross or dangerous, like jump across a brook or eat a worm. I almost laugh out loud thinking of the time she dared me to stick my hand in a snake hole. I’d barely escaped getting bitten by a poisonous snake that time.
I hope that she’ll see some of the familiar sights out the window and start to calm a bit, but she doesn’t. We pass the turnoff to our family cottage, and she doesn’t blink. We approach the village closest to our home, the one we used to visit for shopping trips, and she doesn’t even smile. Even when we pass her favorite bakery and the scent of fresh made bread fills our lungs, she doesn’t seem to notice.
Concern floods me. I ask James through the mind-link, ‘What’s wrong with her? She’s not herself at all.’
‘I’m not sure,’ he admits. ‘I’ll examine her when we get home. It might be shock.’
‘Could she be in a trance of some sort?’ If that bastard messed with my sister’s brain, I’ll kill him.
‘I don’t know,’ James tells me. ‘It’s been years, and we don’t know what she’s been through. It might take her a few days to get used to being home again.’
HIs response makes sense, but I am alarmed.
When we approach the mansion gates, she doesn’t show any sign of excitement or joy, not even when the house comes into view.
We pull to a stop, and I get out. She doesn’t move. I offer her my hand, and she blinks a couple of times before slowly sliding toward me. Her fingers are cold and thin in mine as I help her out of the car.
“You’re home, Mara,” I tell her, still holding her hand as her eyes trace up to the top floor. “
“Yes. Home.” I think I see the hint of a smile now, but it’s hard to be sure, and then it’s gone.
I lead her inside where the servants are waiting. Wilma is weeping as she hugs Mara, who stands like a soldier without moving as she’s passed from person to person. She certainly didn’t hug me back either. It’s all so odd, I’m alarmed.
The servants seem to notice she’s a little off and don’t press her, and then I lead her upstairs to her old room. If anything should break her out of this shock, it should be this place.
She walks into the room and looks around, her hands still folded in front of her. She moves a few steps closer to her dresser and fingers the lace trimming on a lamp. I see her shoulders relax slightly shen she looks over her personal items laid out on her dresser the way they were when she left five years ago. I think there’s a chance she might be okay.
James walks in with one of his nurses. “Let us take a look at her, Alpha.”
I gesture for him to go ahead, but I don’t leave. He directs Mara to sit in her favorite pink chair and then checks her vitals, giving the information to the nurse who writes it down. He asks Mara how she’s feeling, and she says, “Fine.” He asks if she’s in any pain, etc., and she says no to everything. When he asks if she was treated well in captivity, she says she was.
She seems to be fine.
He draws the same conclusion. “I don’t know, Alpha,” he whispers to me as he walks over. “Everything is normal. I suggest we give her some time.”
I nod. “Thank you.” It’s all I can say.
Then he asks, “How are you?
All I can do is shake my head. “I’m fine.” I can’t think about how I’m feeling right now, and the last thing I need is James, or anyone else, carrying on about me.
He purses his lips but lets it go.
“Mara, let’s go see Mother,” I call to her.
At that, my sister perks up, and I think I see an actual smile for a few seconds. She stands. “Mother? Yes, let’s go see Mother.”
I start to relax slightly. Maybe she will be fine and just needs some time to get used to being back here. I offer my arm, and she loops hers through it. We make our way down to Mother’s room. I am hoping they will see one another, hug, burst into tears, and then both of them will be back to normal–to how they were before Father was killed and Mara was taken.
I knock on the door, and Mother’s maid, Daniella, opens. She smiles and greets Mara, who is just as cold now as she was to the other servants. It’s strange because Mara always loved everyone who worked at the house so much, but now she’s being distant to everyone–including me.
We walk into Mother’s dark room. I’m tempted to turn on the lights and see if that changes everyone’s mood, but I don’t.
“Mother,” I say as we approach her. She’s sitting near the window with that sliver of light pouring in. “Look who’s here, Mother. It’s Mara.”
At the mention of my sister’s name, Mother turns to look at her, a hopeful expression tugging up the corner’s of her eyes. But her expression shifts back pretty quickly. She says nothing.
“Mother, it’s me,” Mara says, leaning down to look into our mother’s face. “It’s Mara.”
Mother blinks a few times but still doesn’t speak.
“I’m so happy to see you.” Mara lifts a hand to touch Mother’s face, but she flinches away, so she pauses and puts her hand down. “How are you?”
“No.” Mother shakes her head.
“No?” I ask, standing behind my sister. “No, what, Mother? It’s Mara. I arranged for her release. She’s home with us now.”
“No.” She looks away, her eyes focusing out the window again.
“But… Mother?” For the first time, I hear some emotion in my sister’s voice. “You don’t recognize me.”
“You look like my Mara,” Mother says, still not looking at her. “But you’re not.” Her eyes dart back to Mara’s face and then meet my gaze. “This woman is not my daughter. Get her out of here.”
My mouth drops open. I want to argue with her, to protest, but I can see Mara is upset. She wipes at tears as she says, “Come along, brother. I don’t want to upset her.”
I look from Mother to the maid, dumbfounded. Daniella moves over to help the queen as Mara heads out the door. I follow her, still not sure what is happening.
“I’m so sorry,” I say once we are in the hall. Mara swipes at her eyes again. “I’m not sure what happened.”
“What happened is she doesn’t recognize me,” Mara says. “It’s not a surprise. I hardly recognize myself. I’m tired.” She starts to walk toward the stairs, and I follow. Everything is so strange. I should’ve expected it would be, but it’s even worse than I could’ve imagined.
And the pain in my chest hurts more than I thought possible as well.
I follow Mara to her room where she pauses at the door. “I’m going to rest.”
I nod in understanding. “We are having a party tonight, in your honor. I hope you’ll come.”
I expect to see her eyes shine with happiness, but she gives me a weak nod instead. “I’ll be there.”
She disappears inside of her room. I stand in the hallway like an idiot for a moment before I head to my own room. I hate to admit I need to rest, too, but my heart aches, and I’m so confused.
What in the world is wrong with my family?