Chapter 55
Julian
“Julian!”
Aiden and I still mid-stride and turn warily to watch my father’s hurried approach. He’d been waiting outside the pack’s Hall long before we even got there, but I’d hoped that he’d left after we closed the doors without inviting him inside. Evidently, he did not.
I glance at Aiden from the corner of my eye, and the sight of his tired face is enough to set me in motion.
“You should go on ahead,” I whisper before planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be home soon.”
Aiden’s lips part as if to argue, but he drops his already-slumped shoulders and nods. He squeezes my hand encouragingly before he turns and continues his trek home without a word.
My heart spasms as I watch him go, but I hold my ground. Staying with Aiden right now would mean tossing him to the wolves, and he’s too fragile for that.
I … no part of me had been ready to hear Aiden’s story.
I thought I was. I thought I could be there for anything and make it better. But no one could make something like that better.
It all made sense now. His hatred of rogues.
His quick temper. The night terrors. His aversion to the dark.
Even the fracture between him and his parents.
I remembered a time when Aiden loved them, and they loved him.
But that had all changed after what happened.
He blamed them for it—I could hear it in his voice every time he mentioned them.
Goddess, he’d cried. He’d sobbed in my arms for hours, like it was the first time he’d ever let himself.
Even after I’d taken him to bed and tried to comfort him, to alleviate his mind of all those horrific things he’d had to relive, he’d cried.
I’d held him through the night, whispering all the ways I loved him, until finally, he fell asleep. But even then, the tears fell silently.
Over the next few days, I catered to his every need, just as he’d done for me, not that he liked that very much.
Aiden said he didn’t want to be pitied or treated differently, but how could I possibly treat him the same after what I’d learnt?
How could I not hold on tighter when he looked so beaten down?
Still, he just wanted to carry on with life. To get back to his normal and work his way through the memories. He should’ve been resting, and I’d said as much, but he’d insisted on coming with me today to meet with our pack’s elders and highest-ranking wolves to get things back on track.
I agreed that the two of us were better than one after how publicly distant we’d been. But I regret that now as I watch him walk down the vacant path, aimlessly kicking a lone pebble along.
“Julian.”
Tearing my gaze away from my mate, I turn it on my father. He’s wearing a deep frown. It’s an expression I know well. What I’m not used to, however, is the weird way he tries to soften it into a smile.
It’s strange, seeing as the last time we spoke, my parents had dropped the act and reminded me exactly who they were. Watching him try to slip back into costume feels awkward at best.
“How can I help you?” I ask as neutrally as I can.
I don’t want to fight with him, but these days, it feels impossible to speak to my parents without some form of contention.
“You look well,” he says as his eyes rove over me briefly. “Far, far better.”
“Yes, I am,” I reply smoothly. “Aiden took care of me.”
The feigned smile wavers. His amber eyes flick briefly over my shoulder before he grits out, “I am glad.”
I have to bite back my own smile as I watch him try to wrestle his expression into something pleasant.
“I wanted to tell you that it was a good decision to speak to the elders today,” he continues, clasping his hands. “The pack needs to hear from you—see for themselves that you are every bit the alpha you vowed to be.”
I stare at him blankly, blinking slowly in the silence he leaves for a response. His brow twitches.
“It’s been a tumultuous few months, and if you recall the conversation with your mother and me”—his gaze shifts to the right as he drops his volume—“it is very important for you to establish your position as alpha.”
I narrow my eyes. I hear what he doesn’t say … and there’s something else. I only wish he’d get to it.
“And how might one do that?” I ask, and to my credit, I do try to sound amiable.
“You know how,” he starts almost conversationally. “You mate, you set your pack on course, and …”
“And?” I encourage.
“I did not want to bring this up so soon.” Lie. “I wanted to give you more time to settle before doing so.” Another lie. “But some of the pack are already asking questions regarding the issue.” More lies.
I feel his frown transferring to my own lips as I listen to him prattle on.
Clearly, they heeded my warning to stay out of my business, but now it seems like he’s trying another route. Commentary. But I don’t like his commentary any more than his instruction, and now he’s wasting my time—time I could be spending with my mate who actually needs me.
“What is it?” I snap, dropping my own pretence of calm.
His expression shifts, morphing into something I can’t quite decipher before he finally spits it out. “They want to know your plan for kids.”
My irritation evaporates. Of all the things—“K-kids?” I stutter in disbelief.
“We know you’re both male,” he says evenly, “but you are also both alphas. You need to start looking into your options. It’s the last step.”
“The last step of what?”
“Solidifying your status as alphas,” he says this simply, without any discomfort or awkwardness, as though he’s just stating a matter of absolutely no consequence.
“We’re only eighteen,” I protest, and he scoffs.
“Do not try that. If Aiden were a girl, he’d already have a pup in him. You know how it works,” he says, his tone taking on a sharper edge now. “Kids are next, and you must plan the course.”
“Please stop,” I groan, shaking my head to try and clear the mental image of a pregnant female Aiden. “This is … ludicrous.”
My father’s eyes harden as draws his shoulders back. “It is the way of things.”
“The way of things changed the moment Aiden and I stood on that stage.”
“Not this,” he hisses through his teeth. “You need a child—someone to come after you. Someone to carry on our line. Aiden will be thinking the same, but it should be your babe first—”
“What?” I rasp, feeling as if the wind has been knocked out of me.
I heard him, loud and clear, but I want to believe that I haven’t.
“We’ve spoken about this, Julian,” he grits with frustration, and now he looks much more like the father who raised me. “You know why.”
A few months ago, the whole luna-alpha thing terrified me, but that was before Aiden and I marked each other, joined our two ancient packs, and still found our way back to each other after we fell apart. Before Aiden told me his story.
I’m his equal, I know that without a doubt in my mind, so this doesn’t touch me.
When I don’t answer, my father begins listing all the things that I “must” do, barely leaving room for himself to breathe.
He talks at me, not to me, slipping so easily back into the skin of the man who kept me up all night as a boy, drilling me on everything an alpha should know, even when I was so tired.
The respectful tone slips away, taking with it any other masquerade. He rambles and he does it all with this palpable frustration, like he wishes he could just shake me—or take over my body and do it all himself.
It’s routine. Painfully so. And I don’t know why at first until I realise it’s because I’m viewing it from another perspective.
Yes. Before, I’d be standing off to the side somewhere, at the top of the stairs or behind some door. He’d been much the same, but he wouldn’t be talking to me. No, he’d be talking to Oliver.
Oliver, who always tried his best. Oliver, who was perfect on his own. Oliver, who always looked so tired.
How could I only now remember this? I’d seen it so many times, and yet … I’d forgotten. In my memories, they were always proud of him. Beaming. But now, in his place, I can so easily recall what it was like when they slipped from pride to disappointment.
They’d drained him just like this, and now they’re doing it to me.
“Okay,” I say, cutting off his rant.
He pauses, looking momentarily stunned. It resonates in his voice when he echoes, “Okay?”
I nod. “Okay. I’ll talk to Aiden about it.”
And there he is. The man in my memories. The one who smiled so brightly at Oliver, and only Oliver. He rises to the surface now, so quickly that I almost stagger back from the chill it sends down my spine.
“That’s my boy!” he praises, clapping a hand on my shoulder as he grins at me with … pride.
He’d done this to Oliver too, but I thought it’d been gifted freely. No, apparently, it’d come with a price.
Pleased, he leaves me with a smile on his face and an extra skip in his step. He’s likely racing home to tell Mother that he spoke to me and I, against all odds, saw reason.
He doesn’t realise that I only agreed to shut him up. He doesn’t know that it’s likely what Oliver did, too.
A part of me wants to call after him, to ask if he’s ever going to ask what was wrong with me when Aiden and I returned. If I really am okay. But that part of me is the same one that used to watch from the doorways, wondering if he’d ever turn one of those bright smiles my way.
Kids. I huff a laugh and tilt my head to the sky.
Goddess, do you have a solution? For the kid thing? Or my parents?
The answer does not fall from the sky. Bird poo does. It lands in my hair and is disturbingly warm as it slides down my face
Always a pleasure, Goddess. Always a pleasure.
“I can’t believe a bird took a shit on your face,” Aiden snorts over the running faucet.
“It was more in my hair, but yeah,” I grumble, rinsing the last of the shampoo out. Aiden snickers again, and only stops when I kick his shin.
“You know, it’s all about perspective,” he says diplomatically. “In some cultures, this is considered a good thing.”