2. Finn
Finn
T he fifth of September rolled around, the same as it did every year.
It shouldn’t have been a surprise to me. I knew how time worked. But there was no denying that I wished it wouldn’t happen. Wished we could skip straight from the fourth to the sixth, without having to pause in the middle.
Maybe then I could make it through without breaking.
The pain wasn’t a surprise. It had lessened, like a wound that had scabbed over, but it would never fully heal.
Grief didn’t work that way.
Over fifteen decades later, the loss could still sucker punch me out of nowhere.
I’d be going about my day, and something seemingly innocuous would catch me off guard.
Sometimes it was a thistle, or perhaps a piece of yellow fabric, blowing on a washing line.
Neither seemed interesting, but I’d be hit with the memory of how Sarah had loved thistles,or the faded comfort blanket Maria had toted everywhere with her, clutched in a chubby fist.
Grief never left you. It was a band around your chest that could never be removed. But with each passing decade, it lessened, allowing you to take a slightly deeper breath. To think that maybe, someday, the air might fully inflate your lungs again.
That maybe you could find happiness.
“Finn?” Calan’s deep voice rang out a beat before he rapped his knuckles on the door. Why he bothered with both was beyond me. “Ye in there?”
“Yep.” I piled up the last of the paperwork, pinching the bridge of my nose. Honestly, where else would I be? It wasn’t like I had any semblance of a life outside of the clan borders. “Come in.”
Calan’s usual scowl pulled deeper as he stalked into my office, taking in my slumped position behind my desk. “How long have ye been in here today?”
“Not long,” I lied.
“Since four thirty a.m.,” Logan announced brightly, appearing in the doorway.
Unlike Calan, he didn’t bother to wait for an invitation, bouncing inside and plopping himself into a chair.
In his hands, he held an oversized cup of bubble tea.
It was bright pink and filled with neon tapioca balls.
If Logan weren’t immortal, I would’ve questioned the sanity of consuming it.
“So, sixteen hours, give or take a few minutes.”
“I couldn’t sleep,” I muttered, trying to get ahead of Calan’s ire.
I wasn’t fast enough. “So then ye shift. Go for a run. Wake one of us up to spar for a few rounds. Fuck, even making a pack breakfast would be better than drowning yourself in paperwork.”
“Calan’s right,” Evan said, sliding into the room and leaning against the wall.
A newer member of the inner circle, he’d nonetheless slipped comfortably into his role of giving me a hard time.
A little too comfortably, if I were being honest. His sharp blue eyes missed nothing. “You work too much.”
“Fantastic, the whole gang is here,” I said drily. “You lot are worse than a pack of mother hens.”
“Do hens move in packs?” Logan asked, his thumb flying over his phone. “Nah, it’s a flock. I knew it didn’t sound right.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Is there a reason you’re all here? Or do ye just want to give me shit?”
“We’re worried about ye,” Calan said, cutting straight to the point as always. “You’re shutting yourself away in here too much. It’s not healthy.”
“A clan doesn’t run itself.”
“But you weren’t like this before Danny returned,” Logan said, noisily sipping his drink again. “I mean, you were still a workaholic, but you’ve definitely got worse.”
I sighed internally, wishing I could disagree. “I know.”
A year ago, the unthinkable had happened. Danny had taken a mate and been forced to return. I’d relinquished control to him as agreed. Not that he’d wanted it. He’d built a new life for himself down in Southampton, hundreds of miles from here.
He’d moved on. I wished I knew how to.
Danny’s tenure here hadn’t lasted long. Turned out there were enough traitors in the council who still wanted him gone.
And me too.
Apparently, my rule hadn’t gone as well as they’d hoped.
In translation, I had more of a fucking backbone than they’d been expecting.
They couldn’t manipulate me like they’d thought they’d be able to.
So, they’d plotted to take out myself, Danny, and his human mate, Riley, in one fell swoop. Logan too .
Unfortunately for them, it hadn’t worked out that way. Thanks to my brother’s stubbornness, Logan’s cunning, and mine and Danny’s strength, they hadn’t succeeded. Even Riley had fought, not letting the fact that he was a human facing off against fully grown shifters stop him.
It was amazing what you could do when defending those you loved.
After that, it was clear to all of us that Danny and Riley couldn’t stay. Not permanently, anyway. Our alpha had announced a decree that handed the political power to me, promising to return if a threat ever arose.
Once more, I’d found myself leading the clan—a position I’d never wanted but couldn’t deny that I loved. It had given me the sense of purpose I’d been missing. Diplomacy came naturally to me.
And when diplomacy failed? Let’s just say I was well equipped in that area too.
“What changed?” Calan pushed, scowling at me over the desk. “Why is it different now?”
I tried to find the words. How could I explain that it had shaken me to learn just how much Danny had moved on? That he had a new career, new friends, a fucking mate ?
I didn’t begrudge him any of those things. After what he’d been through, no one deserved happiness more than Danny. Even if he hadn’t lost his family, I would’ve wanted joy for him. I loved him.
But it had been a rude awakening nonetheless.
While he’d been moving on, leaving his grief in the past, I’d been here, doing the same things I’d always done.
I hadn’t moved on. Sure, I’d dragged the clan into the twenty-first century.
I’d built a community I was proud to lead.
But personally? I was still in the same place I’d been over a hundred and fifty years ago.
Don’t get me wrong, I hadn’t lived like a monk, but no one had touched my heart. I hadn’t wanted them to.
Seeing Danny’s happiness…it had unlocked something in me. Something I’d tried very hard not to feel.
Yearning.
I wanted what Danny had, but not like before. Riley was cute, but not for me. That feeling of love though? Of wanting someone so badly you can’t breathe? To not exist for anything other than knowing they were happy?
I wanted that. And I shouldn’t have.
Wanting that led to pain. It wasn’t like I’d ever even had my feelings reciprocated. Sarah had been the first and only one to capture my heart. But hers had belonged to Danny.
Losing her had cost me so much. The thought of losing someone who returned my love…who felt the same way I did…
I wouldn’t come back from it. The thought was too much.
What scared me more was that it wasn’t putting me off. I was selfish enough to still yearn for that kind of love. For the security of knowing the one you loved felt the same. Of wanting to make someone happy. Needing them to feel safe and comforted. I wanted to give someone all of it.
And that was what fucking terrified me. I knew what I stood to lose, but I wanted it anyway.
It was why I hid in this office. If I didn’t venture outside, I couldn’t find anyone. If I buried myself in the clan, maybe the yearning would go away.
Twelve months on, my brain was calling bullshit. As were my inner circle, apparently.
“Well?” Calan demanded, my silence tugging on his temper. My brother was the pack enforcer for a good reason.His temper was easily roused, yet cold and lethal.When he unleashed it on our enemies, he did so with deadly precision.
“Maybe he’s forgotten how to speak,” Logan said sagely. “Happens when you get old.”
I glared at him. “Yer the same age as me, dick. Don’t ye have somewhere else to be?”
“Nope.” Logan winked, swinging his slender legs. “Right here buggin’ ye is exactly where I need to be.”
Tempting as it was to fling something at his head, that wasn’t the way to go with Logan.Unlike my brother, his temper was uncontrolled. When he lost it, you wanted to make sure you weren’t anywhere in the firing line.
Unhinged didn’t even begin to describe Logan.
“Finn, opening up means we can help you,” Evan said diplomatically from against the wall. His hands were shoved in his jean pockets, tattoos winding up both arms. His light brown hair was a mess, like he’d shifted earlier and not bothered to fix it.
“I know.” I sighed. “I don’t really know what to tell ye. I’m just…in a rut.”
Logan snorted. “A rut is one thing. You’re in a fucking ditch.”
Calan reached over to swat at Logan’s head. “You’re not helping.”
“No, he’s right. I am in a fucking ditch.
” I stood up before any of them could start fighting.
If I had to replace the desk in here again, I’d be pulled before the council.
They didn’t have the power over us that they once had—we’d made sure of that—still, they’d be pissy if we broke yet another piece of furniture.
Fuckers had yet to allow me my claymore indoors. You scratched one painting and they held it against you forever .
“I’m going to make changes,” I said, meeting the gaze of each of my circle.
“Like what?” Logan ducked Calan’s next swat, using the straw from his drink to point at him. “Do that again, and I’m gonna put this straw somewhere the sun doesn’t shine.”
Calan’s growl slipped free. “I’d like to see ye try.”
I sighed. “Can you two take it outside please?”
“Come on, Logan.” Evan opened the door and jerked his head. “We need to do a perimeter check anyway.”
“Boring,” Logan said in a singsong voice. “I’d much rather go a few rounds with Mr. Grumpy Pants here.”
A vein popped in Calan’s temple. I estimated Logan was one more word away from getting his throat ripped out. Not really an issue, given our healing, but it’d leave a hell of a mess to clean up. “Logan, go. Now.”
I didn’t have the alpha bark that Danny did, but I didn’t need it. Logan respected me enough to know when to obey. Waving imperiously at Calan, he slipped from the room after Evan, leaving me alone with my brother.
“Little shit,” Calan muttered, dropping into a chair. “He always knows how to get under my skin.”
“He’s exceptional at it with most people.” I took my seat with a sigh. “Yer right though, I need to stop burying myself in work.”
“What are you so afraid of?” Calan asked curiously. “If you step outside the clan, what are you scared of finding?”
I stared down at my hands, wondering how honest to be with him. I’d never opened up to him about Sarah, or any of that. He knew. Of course he did. But that was because Calan knew me better than I knew myself.
“Everything,” I whispered, cracking the door open a little. “I’m afraid of finding everything.”