Chapter 487: Overwhelmed

Chapter 487

Theron

Family dinners are now hell.

Not the kind of hell that involves fire and brimstone. The kind that involves silence and tension. The kind that involves four people sitting around a table, pretending to eat, pretending not to look at each other, pretending everything is fine.

It is not fine.

Rylan refuses to let his son step foot in Stoneclaw grounds.My parents have never seen their grandson.

The chair beside me is empty too. It has been empty for years.

"Theron," my mother says. Her voice is soft. Gentle. The voice she uses when she wants something.

"Yes?"

"You should talk to your brother."

I set down my fork.

"I have tried."

"Try harder."

"Mother—"

"He is your twin. Your blood. He will listen to you."

I laugh. It is a bitter sound. "Rylan does not listen to anyone. Especially not me."

My father clears his throat. He is old now. Older than he was when I left. The years have not been kind to him.

"He needs to understand," my father says, "that family is family. The boy is a Stoneclaw. He should be raised here. Among his own."

I look at him. At his thinning hair. At his tired eyes. At his stubborn, unyielding expression.

"He is being raised by his mother," I say. "In Redmoon. Where he belongs."

"He belongs here."

Silence.

My mother sets down her fork. Her hands are trembling.

"Theron," she says. "We are getting old. We have lived long lives. We have seen much. But we have not seen our grandson."

I do not respond.

"We have tried to reach out to Rylan. But he will not respond. He will not let us visit....see him."

She looks at me.

"You are the only one who can reach him. You are his brother. His twin. He will listen to you."

"Mother." I start.

"It’s been three years! Three years, Theron! We just hear about our grandson—we don’t know what color his eyes are, his hair, what he likes."

She says it and starts crying.

I sigh.

"You know how stubborn he is," I say.

"At least you’ve seen him. Convince him."

I don’t respond. There’s no point. We’ve had this conversation so many times now.

"Then at least give us a grandson we can see," she says.

I growl in warning. "Mother, stop."

"There are so many nice girls here. Ones that would eagerly give you a pup."

"Don’t."

"It wouldn’t be like this if she gave you a child."

"It’s not her fault."

"It’s an Omega’s basic duty to have children."

I slam my hand on the table. It cracks.

"You will not speak of my mate like that. My mate, who is Luna."

I growl.

"Son," my father says, "your mother is wrong. But Stoneclaw needs an heir. Every pack has one now. Even that boy, Alpha of Shadowfang, has one. Think about it."

"I’m different from Kai," I say, and stand up.

"The only pup I shall have will come from my mate. And if the goddess doesn’t grace us, then I will not be having a pup in this life."

I walk away.

*

I find myself in the forest.

I do not know how I got here. I do not remember leaving the house. I do not remember walking through the pack grounds. I only know that I am here now, surrounded by trees, alone with my thoughts.

The thoughts are not good.

I think about my parents. About their disappointment. About their desperation.

I think about Rylan. About how when I do see him, he is happy and content in his life.

I cannot fault him. All that anger and aggressiveness Rylan carried all his life is gone now. I do not recognize him sometimes.

It makes me envious. A little.

All three of them—Kai, Rylan, Marcus—are fathers now. Not just them. All my age mates from the same litter have families. Everyone has moved forward. Everyone has found their place.

I am the only one standing still.

But I love Seraphina.

Nothing will ever change that.

I am just a little overwhelmed. That is all.

I sit at the base of a tree.

The bark is rough against my back. The ground is cold. The air is still.

I close my eyes.

I think about the day I met her. The day the bond snapped into place. The day I knew, with absolute certainty, that she was mine.

She was beautiful. She was bright. She was and is everything I had ever wanted. I’ll never let go of her.

***

Rylan

I put him to bed and smile.

He is so tired. At the park today, he ran around and jumped and played to his heart’s content. He fell asleep before I even finished the bedtime story.

I smile at his sleeping face for a while. Then I walk out and close the door quietly behind me.

I walk to the kitchen, grab a beer, and take a seat.

I look around my home. My second home.

We have two—one in Redmoon and another back in Europe. We alternate between the places. A month here. A month there.

It is a good life.

I take a sip of the beer. It is from my brother-in-law. He has a stash that is specifically made for wolves. Stronger than anything humans brew. It actually does something for us.

I do not usually drink it.

But I bumped into Seraphina today.

I hate it. I hate that at the sight of her beautiful face, my heart still skipped a beat. I hate that when I saw the sadness on her face, I almost hugged her.

This is why they say a bond can never truly be broken. It is also why I have been avoiding her.

I will not pretend that my time with her was all sadness. I loved her. I was happy.

I take another sip. Then I quickly down the beer.

I find myself taking a trip down memory lane. The early days. The way she laughed.The way she said my name. The way she touched me. The way she loved me.

I do not want to remember.

I stand up and walk to the bedroom.

I find Clarissa at the dressing table, doing her nightly ritual of putting all these products on her face. Creams and serums and things I cannot name. She says it is important. She says humans have it figured out. She says wolves age too gracefully and take it for granted.

I do not understand it. But I like watching her.

She meets my eyes through the mirror.

"Why are you just standing there?" she says.

I do not answer.

"What? Having second thoughts? Want to run back to your ex-mate?" she continues.

"You know," I say, "for someone who claims not to be jealous, you bring her up an awful lot."

"I am not jealous." She dabs something under her eyes. "I am observant."

"Same thing."

"It is not."

I sit on the edge of the bed. I watch her.

She is beautiful. Not in the same way Seraphina is beautiful—Seraphina is ethereal, otherworldly, the kind of beauty that makes you want to worship. She is the Goddess’ chosen one, after all. But Clarissa is beautiful in a mortal, perfect way. When we walk the streets in the human world, many times people turn to look at her in awe, like royalty.

"It’s my fault. I signed up for this." She stands and walks toward me.

"It infuriates me too, you know. Her hair is frizzy and full of these loose ends. Her clothes are old and raggedy. Her eyebrows are uneven. But she’s still so annoyingly pretty it pisses me off."

She stands in front of me.

"You’re beautiful too, you know."

"Yes, but not without effort."

"I’ve seen you with no effort. You still look amazing."

She pushes me onto the bed.

"I better." She says it and stands in front of me, towering over me.

"Let’s have another child," she says, reaching for my jeans. "So I can rub it in your ex’s face."

What a cruel remark.

But Clarissa is a spoiled little wolf.

And... I like it.

What I have with Clarissa may not be the encompassing emotion of the mate bond, but that does not make what we have any less significant.

Most importantly, she makes me happy. Happier than I have ever been in my life.

I should have known when she picked me up from the airport and said:

"So you’re the wolf from the boonies. You’re tall and handsome, and you have this wild air to you. I want you. I’m having you."

And she did. Honestly, it did not take long for me to fall for her seduction at all.

She does not like the concept of a mate bond. She says she wants to always put herself first. Clarissa is eternally self-centered. So the fact that she chose me, and had my child, is genuinely baffling.

"I thought you said you didn’t want to have another child so soon," I say, watching her drag my jeans and underwear off me.

"I changed my mind." She says it and climbs off me.

I reach my hand to touch her face. She slaps it away.

"Don’t touch."

"Yes, ma’am," I say.

And honestly, I do not regret a thing.

I am happy.