Catherine Schade arrived in Portland with gifts.
Rare ingredients for pregnancy supplements—compounds that couldn't be acquired through normal channels. Ancient Hexenbiest texts describing hybrid development patterns. Medical equipment designed for monitoring magical pregnancies.
All of it offered with apparent goodwill, apparent generosity, apparent maternal concern.
Adalind wasn't fooled.
"She's never given anything freely." We stood in the Spice Shop's back room, watching Catherine's arrival through security feeds. "Every gift has strings. Every generosity has purpose."
"Then we identify the strings before we accept anything." I studied the elder Hexenbiest's movements. "What's her angle?"
"The baby. It's always been about the baby." Adalind's voice carried decades of bitter experience. "She sees a Grimm-Hexenbiest hybrid as an opportunity. Power she can shape, influence she can cultivate, legacy she can control."
[VISITOR: CATHERINE SCHADE]
[STATUS: ADALIND'S MOTHER (RELATIONSHIP: COMPLICATED)]
[APPARENT PURPOSE: PREGNANCY SUPPORT]
[LIKELY PURPOSE: INFLUENCE OVER HYBRID HEIR]
[THREAT LEVEL: SIGNIFICANT (POLITICAL, NOT PHYSICAL)]
The meeting happened in neutral territory—a conference room in a Pack-controlled building, security positioned at every entrance, Adalind and I facing Catherine across a table designed for negotiation rather than intimacy.
"Daughter." Catherine's voice carried warmth that didn't reach her eyes. "You look well. The enhancement agrees with you."
"What do you want, Mother?"
"To help." Catherine gestured at the materials she'd brought. "A Grimm-Hexenbiest pregnancy is unprecedented. The complications could be significant. I have resources, knowledge, experience that your... Pack physicians lack."
"Resources that come with conditions."
"Resources that come with family loyalty." Catherine's expression shifted—not softer, but more calculated. "This child will be my grandchild. Whatever our differences, blood matters. I want them to survive, to thrive, to become what they're capable of becoming."
"And what are they capable of becoming, in your view?"
Catherine smiled. The expression was unsettling—too much satisfaction, too much anticipation. "Something unprecedented. Grimm hunting instincts with Hexenbiest magical potential. The abilities their father has extracted might pass through the bloodline. This child could be the most powerful being born in centuries."
"That's why you're really here." Adalind's voice went flat. "Not to help. To position yourself."
"To influence." Catherine didn't deny it. "Think of it as grandmother's privilege. I raised you, Adalind. I made you what you are—"
"You made me a tool." The words came out sharp. "A weapon for Royal service. A pawn in games I didn't understand. You don't get to do that to my child."
"Our methods differed—"
"Our methods were abuse." Adalind stood, her hybrid power crackling visibly. "You isolated me, manipulated me, sold my services to whoever paid the most. The only reason I have any value now is because I chose differently. Because I found people who treated me as more than an asset."
Catherine's expression flickered—surprise, perhaps, at the strength in her daughter's voice. Or calculation, adjusting to new information.
"I see your partner has influenced your perspective."
"My partner showed me alternatives. The perspective is my own." Adalind turned to me. "Tell her our position."
I'd been waiting for this moment—watching the family dynamics play out, assessing Catherine's true capabilities, preparing the response we'd discussed.
"You can provide medical expertise. Resources. Information about hybrid development." I held Catherine's gaze. "That's valuable. We accept your assistance in those specific areas."
"And in return?"
"In return, you get nothing except involvement with your grandchild's survival." I let the implications settle. "No direct access to the child without supervision. No private conversations, no unsupervised visits, no attempts to influence or shape or control. Any violation results in permanent exile from Pack territory."
"That's... restrictive."
"That's the offer. Take it or leave."
[NEGOTIATION: CATHERINE SCHADE]
[TERMS OFFERED: LIMITED INVOLVEMENT]
[BOUNDARIES: STRICT]
[ENFORCEMENT: EXILE FOR VIOLATIONS]
[RESPONSE: PENDING]
Catherine was quiet for a long moment. Behind her composure, calculations ran—the value of involvement versus the limitations imposed, the potential for manipulation versus the certainty of exile.
"You don't trust me."
"You haven't earned trust." I kept my voice neutral. "You've spent decades treating people as tools. Your own daughter was a commodity you traded for political advantage. Why would we trust you with something more valuable?"
"Because I want this child to succeed."
"You want this child to succeed in ways that benefit you." Adalind's voice cut through her mother's protest. "That's not the same thing. That's never been the same thing."
The silence stretched. Catherine's options were limited—she could accept the restrictions and maintain involvement, or reject them and lose access entirely. Her influence over the situation was minimal, and she knew it.
"I accept." The words came reluctantly. "Your terms. Your restrictions. Your surveillance." She met my eyes. "But understand—I'm doing this for the child. Whatever you think of me, my grandchild's survival matters. I won't apologize for wanting to be part of their life."
"Then earn it." I stood, signaling the meeting's end. "Prove that your involvement benefits them. Prove that your expertise outweighs your manipulation. Prove that 'grandmother's privilege' means something other than another generation of control."
Catherine gathered her materials—the gifts she'd brought, now accepted with conditions. Her expression was unreadable, the master manipulator processing a situation where manipulation had failed.
"I'll send the medical protocols tomorrow. The supplements should begin immediately—the first trimester is critical for hybrid development." She paused at the door. "For what it's worth, daughter, I am proud of what you've become. Even if I don't understand how you got there."
"You wouldn't understand." Adalind's voice held no warmth. "It requires trusting people. Something you've never done."
Catherine left without further response.
The security team confirmed her departure from Pack territory thirty minutes later. She'd returned to her hotel, alone, without attempting contact with any other Pack member.
"She'll betray us eventually." Adalind stood at the window, watching the city that had become her home. "It's who she is. What she knows."
"I know." I moved to stand beside her. "But we'll be ready. And she knows we'll be ready. That keeps everyone honest."
"Does it?"
"It keeps everyone careful." I took her hand, the blood pact humming between us. "She wants access to our child. That desire makes her predictable. We can work with predictable."
"She's still dangerous."
"Everyone worth knowing is dangerous." I smiled despite the tension. "At least with Catherine, we know exactly what kind of danger we're facing."
Adalind's expression softened slightly. The confrontation with her mother had cost her something—facing the woman who'd shaped her into a weapon, refusing to let that pattern continue.
"Thank you." Her voice was quiet. "For supporting me in there. For not trying to negotiate separately."
"We're partners. Blood-pact bound. Whatever we face, we face together."
"Even my mother?"
"Especially your mother." I pulled her close. "She doesn't get to divide us. Nobody does."
The evening dissolved into planning—reviewing Catherine's medical protocols, establishing monitoring procedures, ensuring that every interaction with the elder Hexenbiest was documented and witnessed.
We'd accepted a dangerous ally. The alternative—rejecting her expertise entirely—was more dangerous still.
But we'd done it on our terms, with our boundaries, with our child's protection as the only priority.
That would have to be enough.
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