III: Family and Foes

“How the fuck did you let that peasant touch you?”

Magnus pushed the heavy doors and flung his coat on the maid who was standing by the door. “Welcome, Alpha.” He didn’t respond, nor did he acknowledge the fact that someone was standing there.

“I didn’t see it coming,” Caelan grumbled a response.

Magnus pivoted and stared at his son, “What the hell are they teaching you in those martial arts classes? I signed you up for that very reason, to ensure you dominate in fights like that!” A bit of spittle leaped from Magnus’ aggressive mouth and hit Caelan on his cheek.

He angrily wiped it off and spoke, “Ryker has a fucking black belt, Dad,” Caelan spat back, hoping his dad would receive the same brunt of his spit.

“And so do you! What is wrong with you? Now that stupid boy and his father will gloat and walk around like they have defeated me.”

“Can you hear yourself, Dad? How is this about you? He hit me, not you!” Caelan thundered, his eyes bulging and his neck thick with anger.

“Don’t you dare speak to me in that manner,” Magnus warned, his finger pointed directly at Caelan’s reddened face. The room was thick with tension, so palpable that one could wrap it around themselves as a duvet.

“Is everything alright?” Barbara, his mother, sauntered down the stairs. Her navy blue dress was tightly fitted to reveal the body she worked out daily for. No one would think she was a mother of a teenager because she had the beauty of a teenager herself.

“Warn your son, Barbara, the next time he speaks out of tone, I will teach him a lesson.” Magnus held his son’s gaze for a second and then moved toward the steps. Barbara paused, her eyes gently following her husband’s heavy footsteps.

“What happened?” She grabbed Caelan’s face and turned it gently toward her.

“Nothing, Mom. I’m fine,” he grunted and moved away from her. He walked up the stairs and pushed his door open, slamming it shut. He dove on the bed, his mind heavy with everything that had happened.

He shoved his head into a pillow and yelled his guts out till he felt a little lightheaded. He sighed in relief, the weight rolling off his body soon enough, sleep knocked and he welcomed it as he closed his eyes.

~~~

“Hey, baby? Dinner is downstairs,” his mother gently ruffled his bed hair. Caelan yawned, stretched on the bed, and rolled over facing the opposite end. He wasn’t in the mood to see his dad again, no amount of sleep could take away the fact that he was still angry with the man who thought that the world revolved around him.

“I’m not hungry,” he murmured. She adjusted and shifted closer to him, gently patting his head.

“You know you will always be my baby,” she combed his hair with her fingers.

“Mom, stop,” Caelan shrugged her hand off his head, a smile almost attacking his face.

She sighed, “What happened today with your dad?” He stayed silent for a while then sighed once more before he shoveled himself to the head of his bed and tucked his legs in on himself while staring at her.

“I got into a fight,” he muttered.

“With whom!? Are you okay!?” She moved quickly and scanned his body for bruises.

“Mom, we’re wolves, bruises don’t stay that long,” Caelan chuckled as she lifted his arm.

“Even though. Who did you get into a fight with?”

“Ryker,” he spat the name with so much disgust that he dry-heaved in the process.

“Oh, that explains why he is so upset,” she looked very sullen.

Silence hung in the air like the tiny lights above his bed for a few minutes.

He stared at her and decided to ask the question that had been bothering him ever since, “I don’t understand, why the bad blood? All I know is that since I was born, I knew I had to hate him for some reason. Every time I ask Dad, he gets so mad and shuts me out.”

“Honey, it’s been this way since 2000, and I’m not ready to get into that now.” She stood and wiped her dress. Her eyes locked with his for a moment, her lips moved like the truth was at the tip of her tongue but she chose to swallow it down, “A war is coming, Caelan, and by heavens, I pray you will be ready.”

“What does that mean?”

She smiled and stared at him, then shook her head, “Dinner is ready,” she moved out of the room and the sound of the closing door set a finality on the conversation.

He huffed and smacked the sheets that weren’t even touching him, pulled the door open and walked down the stairs toward the dining table where they would pretend to be a happy family once more. He would rather eat in his room but his mother demanded that they eat as a family for some reason.

He slumped into the seat like a bag of flour and pulled the plate closer to him. His father waited till the food was a few feet away from his mouth before he spoke.

“When will you do it?” Magnus continued eating after asking the question, he didn’t spare a glance at Caelan. Caelan coughed, his spoon clattered to the floor and the debris spilled. His muscles tensed, he knew exactly what his father was talking about.

“Do what, Dad?” Caelan whispered between coughs, feigning ignorance. Magnus paused and stared at him, his eyes folding into slits.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Caelan.”

Silence blanketed the entire room as Caelan felt an awkward ripple in the base of his belly. He felt a light squeeze in his arm and he looked down to see his mother gently holding him.

“You’re going to that fucking school because you have one job, Caelan. You have to kill Ryker Dorian. So when will you fucking do it?”