Chapter 69
Julian
Aiden and I still in our tracks as a sliver of unease runs down my spine.
There’s no reason for anyone to visit us tonight when they should be resting or celebrating, so what in Goddess’s Plains could this be? Aiden reaches the door first, which is the only reason it doesn’t immediately slam shut when my parents appear on the other side.
I’d looked for them when we arrived back in our packlands. While families greeted their loved ones, they were nowhere to be found, but now here they are, eager to talk now that no one else is around to hear about Oliver.
I snort, and soon enough, I’m laughing behind my palm as I stare at them.
They wear the same horrified looks they had when I told them Oliver was alive, only after seeing what he’d turned into under all their pressure, all I see is the vapid hunger in their eyes for more.
“Not tonight,” Aiden says as he glances back at me. There’s concern in his eyes, and positioned beside theirs, it’s easy to spot which is real.
“No, tonight is fine,” I say, sobering as I close the space between us. “It’s perfect, actually.”
If I did this tonight, then I could speak to them with a clear mind before the grief spilt free.
“Julian,” Aiden warns, but I quiet him with the shake of my head as I step past the doorway.
“Keep an ear out for Levi. I’ll be back soon.”
Aiden glares at me and I smile sadly. I’d make up for that later, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. If it weren’t for the pup sleeping inside, he’d follow me no matter what I said, but we both know there’s someone else who needs him just a little bit more than I do.
Shifting his glare to my parents, he lets the unspoken warning reach their ears before he reluctantly steps away from the door. I close it behind me, stepping into the empty hallway to face my parents.
“Did you see him?” my mother asks the second the door shuts. “Was he really out there?” Her crystal eyes are frantic, almost twitching as she cradles her twisting knuckles to her chest.
“With the rogues?” Father adds under his breath.
“Yes,” I reply. “He was one of their leaders.”
They suck in a breath, and suddenly, they’re both very pale. More emotion than I’ve witnessed in a decade flashes across their faces—shame, fear, heartbreak, sadness, and forgotten love. They swell, almost cresting, but then she cuts them all off, narrowing her eyes at me.
“Was?” she echoes.
He hears it too, and perks. “Did he get away? Is he in the cells? We already checked, but—”
“He’s dead.”
It’s surprisingly easy to say it, but hearing the truth spoken out loud is a different story.
A part of me had cracked the moment I watched Oliver’s eyes dull.
It’s fracture stretched further every time I thought of him while I tried patching it up with everything I had to do—find Reon, get the pack back to safety, look after the pup, feed the pup—but standing here, I’m out of tape, and beneath it all, my heart is breaking.
“Dead?” my father asks, and my stomach clenches. Nausea rattles through me, and I have to seal my lips together to stop it as I fight against the rising tidal wave, but then he sighs.
Sighs? I blink at him, sure I heard that wrong, but then my mother releases a similar breath, her’s slightly slower as she lets her hands drop.
“Are you sure?” he asks and I frown at him.
Was I sure that my brother was dead? Did they need to ask that now, or were they afraid it was another trick? If that was it, I could understand, but then why did they sound so hopeful?
My frown deepens, head hurting as I try to find what I’m missing here. It doesn’t make any sense, not until I look at him—really look at him, and realise … he’s relieved. Relieved—and so is she.
“Am I sure?” I echo dryly. “Am I sure that my brother—your son—is dead?” I look between them as the truth punches the air out of my lungs. “Not why it happened, or how? Just that he’s dead, so no one has to know he was alive to begin with.”
“That’s not—” she starts.
“Don’t lie,” I snap before she can try it. “Do not lie to me right now.”
I’m on the edge as it is, and maybe my father senses it, because he sighs as he runs a hand through his hair. More dishevelled than he’s ever let me see him, he almost glares at me as he asks, “How would you want us to react, Julian? You said he was with the rogues—”
“Because of you!” I hiss, cutting him off. “It all started with the two of you! You drove him away!”
My father pauses, his blonde brows drawing in as his lips part. He means to ask how, but doesn’t want the answer. He wants the truth, but only in fragments that allow him to keep his head up high. But I refuse to give them that. He should be hiding his head in the dirt.
“I spoke to him,” I explain, and their eyes widen in twin shock. “I wanted answers, or excuses, I guess, because I couldn’t believe he’d be there of his own volition. But he was, because the truth is … Oliver was just as selfish as the both of you.”
The truth of that hits me as I say it, and it’s unforgiving with its arrival.
“Oliver was selfish,” I whisper as the cracks cave in and shatter what’s left of me.
I suck in a breath, but my lungs still burn as I stare unseeing at my parents.
Parents who never loved me as they should, who drove the only person who did love me away …
but no, that isn’t true. If Oliver loved me the way I thought he did, then he wouldn’t have left.
But he did. Because he was no better than them.
The brother I idolised wasn’t real. That brother would have never joined forces with some crazed fanatic who took children—no matter how badly he wanted his “freedom.” And he would’ve never left me behind with the same monsters he was trying to escape, forcing me to take his place because he didn’t have the strength to change things for himself.
But he had. And now he’s gone, and they’re still here, and it might as well have been like none of them existed because none of them ever really loved me.
“He wasn’t good,” I mumble as my world falls apart around me.
I never had a family, but I thought I had Oliver. Even when he was gone, I had his memories and his support, his love and kindness. He was who I wanted to be, who I wanted to make proud. He was everything.
But that wasn’t real. What was is dead, and there’s nothing left.
“He said … he wanted freedom,” I relay with a hoarse chuckle that only worsens the ache in my chest. “From you, from the pack, from everything. So he went out there to find it and faked his death so that he could have it.”
I look up at them, gaze desperate. “Isn’t that fucked up?”
“Julian,” my father chides, and I can’t help but laugh again for real this time. I laugh so hard that the tears in my eyes spill over.
“Really? That’s what you have a problem with?” I wipe my face so I can study him. “Me cursing? Not that your first child chose to live with rogues rather than endure life with you?” I shake my head, eyes gleaming. “You’re fucking unbelievable.”
Rendered speechless, they look at me as if I’ve offended them, as if I am disappointing them. It’s nothing new. All I’d ever done is disappoint, and disappoint, even after Oliver was revealed to be a crazy rogue, I am still the disappointment.
“I can’t believe we’re even doing this,” I whisper as another laugh escapes.
I can’t stop them. It’s all so sad and so absurd that I have to laugh, have to do something with all the feelings inside of me.
“You should be upset—we should be mourning him, and instead, you’re fucking relieved? Do you realise how sick that is?”
“Keep your voice down,” my mother hisses, casting a glance down the hallway as if someone would step out at any moment to witness this.
“I don’t have to!” I snap, growing louder just out of spite. “I don’t have to do anything you say, I’m your alpha first, not your child—you two saw to that, and yet you keep forgetting when you want something. Or worse, you try to manipulate me with the one thing I always wanted from you.”
Love.
That’s how it went between us. Every few months, they rolled around to do something or say something that decimated my peace. And even though I resisted, their scheming endured, and I allowed it because some part of me wanted to preserve my relationship with them.
They were the only family I had left, and even though I wasn’t the son they expected to become alpha, I’d done everything in my power to be the best alpha I could be for them and my pack.
But nothing I did was ever enough. It didn’t compare to him, and they didn’t even love him—not enough to make him feel like he didn’t have to leave just to learn how to breathe.
They weren’t parents, they were people—horrible, selfish people, and they know it too.
“We’re not even a family. We’ve never been,” I muse as my clouded gaze shifts between them. “We share blood, but that’s it.”
Childish resentments rise, and I don’t try to shove them down. What was the use anymore?
“You’re parasitic,” I spit. “Every time I see you, all I feel is misery, because this family is a fucking cesspit.”
“That’s enough,” my father growls.
But I cut it off with my own as I step into his space.
“No, it’s not,” I snarl, canines dropping. “It’s not nearly enough.”
“Julian!” my mother cries, trying to pull me back—but I’m stronger than both of them now, and they know it. My father stands tall, puffing out his chest, but he wisely stays where he is.
Silence falls between us, and it’s thick enough to suffocate, but what’s new?
“I’m done with you,” I say as I look between those awful, amber eyes, and the icy reflection of mine. “You ruined him—you ruined, Oliver!” My voice cracks as I fist my hands at my sides. “You ruined our family from the start, and I’m tired of you trying to ruin me.”
“You’re not thinking clearly, Julian,” my mother whispers, her hands still on me, trying to pull me back. Her expression is soft, caring, hopeful … motherly. But her nails dig into my skin, and I can feel her anger flaring on the other side of our meagre bond.
The crevice between us is so large that her emotions feel like a dull echo, a soft buzz that fades as quickly as it forms.
“Your encounter with the rogues was more than you were prepared for,” she continues. “You’re emotional. It’s impairing your judgement.”
“You’d like it to be, wouldn’t you?” I chide, lips curling into a nasty smile that makes her back away. “Because how dare I speak to you in this way after everything you’ve done for me?”
They think they’ve done so much, sacrificed so much for me, and I’m just some ungrateful brat who wasn’t even born to be alpha.
I know it, because it’s written all over their faces, just as it had been after Oliver left and they finally looked at me for the first time, and realised I, the spare, was all they were left with.
“I don’t want to see you anymore,” I mumble as I step back.
Lifting a hand, I wipe the remaining tears from my face, barely feeling my own touch.
“I don’t want to speak to you. I don’t want to hear from you.
I don’t even want you in these lands, but I’m not cruel enough to kick you out of the pack.
So, you can stay and live your lives in silence. ”
“Julian—”
“I am speaking,” I grind out as I let my pheromones rise enough to tighten their throats.
Quiet settles, and I bask in it. “You have no status in this pack and no relevance in my life. So, be quiet and live noiselessly, or leave. Either will be fine with me because, as far as I am concerned, from today forth, the only family I have is on the other side of this door.”
As always, my father’s sneer of disapproval mounts at the mere mention of Aiden and again, I laugh. I have to, because I’m already crying.
Chest heaving, I stare at the pair in front of me while what’s left of my heart breaks all over again. Yet another loss today, and it hurts.
They’re cruel weights that only drag me down, but I’m still cutting myself off from them, tearing myself from our family link, and that has terror racing through me, but it’s not enough to stop me. I’d rather be alone and happy than stuck in their unloving grasp.
“Never speak to me again,” I mutter as I turn and step back into my home.
The door shuts behind me with a familiar click, but it sounds like the sentencing boom of a gavel.
I rest my back against the cool wood and stare at the man waiting on the other side.
Aiden stares at me, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking. I can barely pick apart my own thoughts as my heart races within my chest, and I struggle to work air back into my lungs.
Aiden takes a careful step towards me, and then another. He moves slowly, just as we had with Levi, until he’s standing right in front of me and pulling me into his arms.
I fall into him, limp, until my arms wrap around his body. He squeezes me to him, and I hold on tight while my chest contracts painfully. I realise I’m shaking as what’s left of my family’s bond disintegrates inside of me.
Whatever my family had been, there’s nothing left of it now. It’s like they’ve all died, leaving a cold emptiness inside of me that turns my silent cries into sobs.
“Come on,” he whispers, gently guiding me away from the door.
Aiden strips me down with careful hands and guides me into the shower, and under the shower’s spray, he holds me while I cry. The water drowns out the wretched wails to all but him and me, and they refuse to stop.
My mind torments me with images of Oliver, dead and alive, of my family at the table when I was young, and then the empty one I sat at for so long. The memories come, the good and the bad, because there had been good, as few as they were.
Regret, anger, grief, relief—it all teems inside of me, and I cry. I cry and cry, and I cry.
Aiden holds me through it, not uttering a single word. He just holds me, wrapping me in the warmth of our bond; that’s the only thing that keeps me standing.
He cleans us both as I cling to him, working around me, and with me. He never leaves my side because he knows he’s all I’ve got now. It’s just us now. Him and me—me and him. The realisation is terrifyingly comforting.
When the water runs cold, and our skin prunes, Aiden leads us out of the shower. He dries us, turns off all the lights, and guides us to our bed while a new dawn rises outside.
We crawl beneath the sheets, into the same positions we were in just hours ago, when we’d feared what this day would bring.
Only this time, we actually sleep.