Chapter 70
Aiden
Ever since that day we’d first laid eyes on Oliver and Reon, I’d been afraid of what would happen once we came face to face with them. We had, one is dead and the other in chains, and it’d all happened so quickly that I never thought about who we’d be once it was all said and done.
“Julian,” I whisper as I slide a hand over his shoulder. “Come on. You have to eat something.”
Julian shifts, but only to tug the blanket further up his shoulder. “I’m not hungry.”
“You have to eat anyway,” I argue as I rake a hand through his hair, only to frown. It’s too warm, again. I touch his neck and chest, and my heart sinks when I find them the same.
“I’m tired, Aiden,” Julian whines as he pushes my hand away.
“I know, baby,” I whisper, peeling the blanket away despite his protests. “Come eat, and then you can go back to sleep right after.” Julian groans until I add, “Don’t you want to see Levi?”
That does the trick.
Dragging himself up from our bed, Julian swipes a hand over his face before sliding his eyes to mine.
The bags beneath them have deepened even more from yesterday which only deepens my frown.
It’s not that he’s not sleeping, because he is.
I know because every night, I watch him fall asleep, never stirring, not even once, and yet, he’s still so tired.
“How are you feeling?” I ask as I watch him rise.
“Tired,” he mumbles while he shuffles towards the bathroom. “I’ll be out in a sec. Don’t leave Levi alone.” He closes the door before I can reply, leaving me sitting on the edge of the bed with more worry than I know what to do with.
Exhaustion hit Julian hard after our fight with the rogues—same as it hit me, and every other warrior who’d been out there. We all needed rest, and had plenty of it, but that had been a week ago. We’re all back on our feet. All except Julian.
Julian’s always tired now, like the fatigue had sunk into his bones and taken root.
At first, I figured it was the fallout—a physical toll of losing his family. It made sense, so I let it be. But then he started eating less, he could barely concentrate in the meetings he made it to, and then there’s the change to his scent.
Scents changed, affected by emotions and reactions, but their underlying notes stayed the same. Julian always smelled like summer to me, fresh and sweet, but his scent had changed. It’s barely there, but to a mate’s nose? I noticed almost immediately.
I tried to take him to the healers, but he refused to go. Said he was fine, just a little tired. But in my bones, I can tell it’s something else. But I’m too terrified of pushing Julian a step too far in trying to figure out what it is.
I shove off the bed, walk back the way I came, and Levi’s head snaps up the second he spots me. He sits at the table in his favourite seat. He’s got a strip of bacon in his mouth, and he doesn’t look guilty about it at all.
The smile that I’d readied for him settles in for real.
“How did you get that?” I ask, lifting the cover off the plate I left on the kitchen island. Two pieces are missing. “You shouldn’t even be able to reach that.”
Levi reveals nothing as he shoves the rest of the bacon into his mouth and kicks his legs under the table.
Looking after a kid that wasn’t mine had never interested me, but now, here we are with Levi. At first, I kept thinking that I just had to keep him safe until we had answers about where he’d come from. Last we heard from the Council, they had a lead, but it didn’t sound promising.
No one said it outright, but the chances of Levi’s family still being alive felt slim. Still, he had to have come from somewhere. If he had a pack, then at least he had a home. People he knew who could love and protect him. But until we found them, we would keep him safe.
“Lemonade again?” I ask, grabbing the jug from the fridge. Levi’s still nodding his head by the time I turn around, and my smile widens.
He still didn’t talk much, so we don’t know much about him. But when it comes to food? Kid’s not shy. Lemonade, by far, is his favourite, and any time he gets his hands on it, it’s gone in seconds.
“Good morning,” Julian greets as he joins us and makes a beeline straight for Levi. “Did you sleep well?”
Levi smiles shyly at Julian and nods, which is his version of good, and Julian lights up. Levi had that effect on him. Just being close to him revived him. I don’t know how long we’ll get to keep the kid, but I’m grateful for every second.
Levi makes Julian smile, and right now, Julian needs to smile.
I’ve seen my mate cry more this past year as much as he’d seen me, but never the way he had that night he lost his parents.
He’d cried for hours. Quietly, in broken sobs, between short, shaking breaths.
The grief over Oliver came with the separation from his parents, and it had all been too much.
It didn’t just settle, it festered. Dug into him like rot and refused to let go.
There was no way to claw that sort of pain out.
I only felt a portion of it through our bond, but even that was enough to tear me in half.
The tears came every night when I pulled him into my arms, but only then. Around others, and with Levi, it was like nothing had happened.
“What would you like to do today?” Julian asks while I bring over Levi’s breakfast plates. “We can walk around the pack, or visit the library.”
“In between meetings,” I remind him, brushing my fingers over his forehead to check his temperature before I grab my own plate. It’s slightly cooler now, but still not what it should be. “We’ve got lots to do.”
Usually, Julian’s the one keeping track of everything, but heartbreak preoccupies his mind, and what’s left is running on fumes.
“Yes, between meetings,” he agrees, then glances at Levi. “Would you come with us again?”
I already know the answer to that because Levi refused to be with anyone other than us. Balancing him and the pack isn’t easy, but we were making it work. Levi, at least, never causes trouble. He’s quiet in meetings, does what he’s told, never pushes back. He’s perfect.
And a part of me worries that maybe he’s still too scared not to be on his best behaviour all the time.
As expected, Levi nods and my worries sink a little deeper.
I bring Julian his plate with some water, and the moment he sees it, his smile fades. It’s just toast and avocado on his, but his nose still wrinkles as he leans away from it. I shoot him a look, and he reluctantly starts to eat.
I watch him closely, noting the nibbles he tries to pass off as bites until it’s all done. Only then do I actually focus on my own food.
I’ll try to get a smoothie in him later, but for now, this is good.
From the sound of things, he doesn’t plan to climb back into bed, so we’d need to leave soon to check on how preparations were going for our next pack run.
Visit the healers to see how the injured were doing.
The warriors also wanted to talk about constructing an armoury and—
Metal shrieks as Julian suddenly pushes from the table and bolts, a hand over his mouth.
My stomach drops a moment before I dart after him, sliding into the bathroom just as he curls himself over the toilet and loses everything he ate. I hold his hair and rub his back while he chokes it all out.
My heart hammering. I want to stop it, but there’s nothing I can do other than stand here while he heaves and wretches the last of it out. He groans and recoils from the sink with a full-body shudder.
“Couldn’t keep it down,” he rasps. “I’m sorry.”
I nod, already grabbing him a towel to wipe his face. “It’s okay. Don’t say sorry,” I whisper. Really, I want to say I’m sorry, but guilt is squeezing my chest so tight I can barely breathe.
I shouldn’t have made him eat, but I had to. I couldn’t just leave him not to eat, but Goddess have mercy, what was the fuck was going on with my mate?!
“We’re going to the healers,” I say, turning on the faucet, wetting the end of the towel to wipe under his chin. Julian shakes his head, lips parting in protest, but it stops when he hears my growl. “It’s not up for discussion.”
He glares at me, or tries to, but his body is cooking from the inside out. He sags in my arms. Goddess, he’s weak.
“We’re going now.” I pick him up, holding him against my chest. I turn and find Levi curled against the bathroom door, his eyes wide and fearful as he stares at Julian. “Don’t worry. It’s just a stomach bug.”
Which is bullshit. Werewolves didn’t get “bugs.” Not like this.
“I’m fine,” Julian promises, putting on a brave face for Levi as I walk him out of the bathroom. “Stay close, okay?”
Levi nods, grabs hold of my shirt, and runs at my side to keep up with me as I rush Julian to the healers. I barely stop myself from sprinting because, despite what Julian says, I already know he’s not fine.
I stare at Julian in the bed while he sleeps, Levi knocked out in the chair beside him.
Burnout, the healers said. He’s overworked and his body needs time to recuperate. Let him rest. Let his body heal itself. He’ll be okay in no time. Simple enough, easy instructions. So why is there a pit in my stomach?
Because it feels like more, Max whispers while anxiety riddles through us. We’re burnt out and overworked, too, and Julian is stronger than us.
He just lost his family, I remind while my leg shakes beneath me.
And it still feels like more, Max insists. That truth lands between us before he speaks again. He smells different, Aiden.
I shove to my feet, struggling to keep my breaths measured as I stare at my mate.
The healers checked him, they said he was fine, so he’s fine. I try to keep telling myself and Max that, but it feels like coaxing myself to sleep with lies for lullabies.