30. Calder
CALDER
The walk to the café feels longer than it is.
My pack is giving me space to process, but I can feel their questions hovering in the air like autumn leaves waiting to fall.
I should have told them about the money. About the estate, the expectations, the privilege.
Elowen hasn't said a word since we left the quad. She holds my hand, fingers laced with mine, but there's something careful in her touch now. Like she's reconsidering the person she thought she knew.
I don't blame her. I've been living a lie of omission since the day we met.
The Ashford heir, playing at being just another student. Just Calder. No titles, no legacy, no weight of generational wealth pressing down on every decision.
Except that's not who I am. Not really.
And now she knows it.
"There he is," Tyler says quietly, nodding toward the café window.
Uncle Marcus sits at a corner table, coffee already in hand, watching the street with that particular alertness that comes from years of waiting for difficult conversations. He sees us and stands, something like relief crossing his face.
We enter the warm interior of the café. The smell of coffee and pastries does nothing to settle the churning in my stomach.
"Calder." Marcus pulls me into a brief, firm hug. Then he turns to my pack with genuine warmth. "Elowen. Tyler. Julian. Good to see you again."
"Uncle Marcus." Elowen shakes his hand, but he pulls her into a hug
"Someone had to attempt damage control." He gestures to the table. "Sit. Coffee?"
"Actually," Tyler says, exchanging glances with Julian and Elowen, "we were thinking of checking out the bookstore. Give you two some time to talk."
I’m about to protest, but Elowen squeezes my hand once before letting go. "We'll be at Fern & Quill," she says. "Take your time."
Julian nods once. "We'll text when we're heading back to campus."
They file out, and I watch through the window as they cross the street toward the bookshop. Tyler says something that makes Elowen almost-smile, and the tightness in my chest eases slightly.
"Good pack," Marcus observes, settling back into his seat. "They know when to give space."
"They're the best thing that's ever happened to me," I hear myself say.
"Then why do you look—"
His phone rings, cutting him off mid-sentence. He glances at the screen and rolls his eyes.
"It's your mother. I should take this." He stands, already moving toward the door. "I'll just be a—"
"Marcus, did you speak to him yet?" My mother's voice carries across the café from the phone, sharp, imperious, loud enough that heads turn. She doesn't care who hears. She never does when she's angry.
Marcus presses the phone closer to his ear, turning his back to me. "Yes, Marg—"
"This was YOUR idea, Marcus..." Her voice fades as Uncle Marcus takes the conversation outside.
"Margaret, if you'd just—" I hear before the door closes behind him.
I watch him pacing the sidewalk, head tilted towards the sky. I can imagine what she’s saying to him. Probably demanding that he convince me to see sense and choose Victoria over my pack.
The call ends. Marcus stands there for several moments, phone still in his hand, shoulders tense. Then he turns and sees me watching and inhales deeply.
He comes back inside, walks back to the table, and sits down with a heavy sigh.
"I'm sorry, Calder."
"Uncle Marcus." My voice comes out rougher than intended. "Are you in trouble because of me?"
"Your mother and I have been having versions of this argument for twenty years." He sets his phone face-down on the table with deliberate care. "This isn't the first time I've disagreed with her choices. Won't be the last."
"But she's angry. At you. Because Elderwood was your idea."
"She's angry because she's scared." He meets my eyes.
I sink back into my chair. "I didn't mean to put you in the middle of this."
"You didn't put me anywhere. I chose to stand between you and your mother's expectations.
" His mouth quirks slightly. "It's a familiar position.
I've been doing it since you were old enough to have opinions she disagreed with.
" He downs the rest of his coffee. “You made a choice.
A brave one. And I'll be damned if I’ll undermine that because your mother is having trouble accepting it. "
I keep quiet.
"I wanted you to have choices I didn't," he says.
"I wanted you to figure out who you are without the Ashford expectations dictating every decision.
Turns out, you're someone who builds an unconventional pack and stands up to your mother in front of half the campus.
" Pride colors his tone. "I'd say that's pretty well-rounded leadership. "
"Mother doesn't see it that way." I grin.
"Your mother sees deviation from her plan as personal failure.
" Marcus's fingers drum once against his coffee cup.
"She arranged your entire future, Victoria, the Winters merger, grandchildren who'd inherit both family empires, and you rejected it.
Publicly. That's not just disappointing to her. It's terrifying."
"Terrifying?"
"She's losing control. Losing you." He meets my eyes. "That's what this is really about. Not Victoria or tradition or the Ashford name. She's afraid that choosing your own pack means you won't need her anymore."
"I didn't mean to hurt her," I say quietly.
"I know. But hurt and fear look the same from the outside." Marcus leans forward. "Your father called me too, you know. Separately. Before your mother called. You know what he said?"
I shake my head.
"He said: 'Marcus, is my son happy?'." Marcus's smile is small but genuine. "I told him yes. I told him I've never seen you this settled. This sure. So, then he said, 'I suppose Margaret will have to adjust.'"
Something in my chest loosens. "Dad's on our side?"
"Your father loves your mother. But he also remembers what happened with Sarah. What we lost by trying to force what couldn't be forced." Marcus's expression goes distant. "He won't make that mistake with you. He'll talk your mother down. Eventually."
"I didn't tell them about the money," I say abruptly. "My pack. I never mentioned the estate or the investments or any of it. They knew I had an apartment. They didn't know about... everything else."
"Why not?"
"Because here at Elderwood I'm just Calder. I was afraid if they knew, they'd see me differently. See the legacy instead of the person."
"And today they found out." Marcus is quiet for a long moment. Then: "Did they ask about the money? In all the months you've been together, did any of them ever inquire about your family's wealth?"
"No."
"Did they treat you differently after seeing your apartment?"
"No." The realization settles slowly. "They never asked because it didn’t matter I guess."
"And when your mother showed up today, did Elowen walk away?"
"No." Of course she didn’t. None of them did.
"She chose you before she knew about the money, and she's choosing you now that she does know." Marcus's voice is firm. "That's real, Calder. Don't let your mother's disapproval make you doubt it."
I want to believe that. God, I want to believe it.
"What if I'm asking too much of them?" The fear spills out before I can stop it. "Mother won't give up. She'll keep pushing. What if I'm trapping them into something they didn't sign up for?"
"You think your omega can't handle Margaret Ashford?" Marcus raises an eyebrow. "Did she bow down to your mother today?"
"That's different—"
"It's not." He cuts me off. "That was your mother at her most intimidating. And what did Elowen do?"
I remember her voice, calm, clear, unwavering: My name is Elowen. Not 'the omega’. And this isn't an arrangement. We chose each other.
"She held her ground," I say quietly.
"More than that. I think she claimed her place.
Claimed you." Marcus's expression softens.
"She's stronger than you think. The question isn't whether she can handle your family's pressure.
The question is: do you trust her to make that choice?
Do you trust all of them to stay knowing what it costs? "
He’s right. "I have to tell them everything," I realize aloud. "The full extent of the wealth. The expectations. The pressure that won't stop. All of it."
"Yes." Marcus nods once. "And then you trust them to decide if you're worth it."
"What if they leave?"
"Then better to know now." His voice is kind but firm. "But Calder? I don't think they will. I've watched how they move around you. How they protect you without being asked. How they gave you space today because they knew you needed it." He pauses. "That's a real pack."
I exhale slowly, something settling in my chest.
"I'll talk to your mother," Marcus continues. "She respects me, even if she won't admit it. I'll remind her what happens when you force matches. Sarah left me because I let my family dictate terms. She won't want that for you."
"Will she listen?"
"Eventually. Your mother's stubborn, but she's not stupid." He picks up his coffee cup. "Give her a week to process. Then maybe bring them to the estate. Formal invitation, not ambush. Let her see them in a neutral setting where she's not caught off-guard."
The idea of bringing my pack to the Ashford estate makes my stomach clench. But Marcus is right, if this is going to work long-term, we can't avoid my family forever.
"And if Mother still refuses to accept them?"
"Then you've already made your choice." Marcus meets my eyes steadily. "You chose them over Victoria today. You'll choose them over your mother's approval if it comes to that. I know you will."
"How?"
"Because you're not me at twenty. You're better." Something like regret shadows his expression. "I let Sarah go because I didn't have the spine to stand up to my family. You've already stood up to yours. That's the difference."
We sit in silence for a moment. Through the window, I can see the bookshop across the street. My pack is in there somewhere, browsing together, giving me time.