02: Featherwaters

It was before the first winter of the year set in when they left.

Well, not exactly of their own will but nonetheless, they left.

Meira had known it would end eventually. One too many nights, she had enjoyed his warmth, his scent familiar all over her, her body, her belongings.

But one thing about sleeping with another woman's man was that it never last longs and the side woman was very much liable to be disposed.

Which was why when Miera got pregnant with Evren, Alpha Ethan didn't think twice before sending her away quietly and efficiently.

After all, what would he tell his mate, the Luna?

That he had gotten a pack maid pregnant?

He didn't even have the courtesy to do it himself. He had sent his brother who simply commanded. "You're to gather your things," the brother had said. "You'll be leaving before nightfall."

She didn't take much, she didn't have much to take.

Evren, the bastard child understood abandonment before he understood politics.

The pack they had gone to had managed to take them in reluctantly but of course, a maid would always be a maid and this pack treated maids worse.

Shorter food rations, verbal abuse, domestic abuse but this was better than not being in a pack.

Right?

He was barely eleven years of age when his mother began to get sick.

At that same age, he had begin training to be a warrior, to help his mother lessen her burdens. To be powerful enough to cater for her and change her status.

They put him with boys older than him, boys with bigger fists.

But Evren learned quickly. Not to cry, how to take hits where they wouldn't bruise too visibly.

At night when Meira noticed the wounds, he would dismiss her with one word both true yet so much a lie. "Training."

At seventeen when she became weaker and couldn't stand for long, Evren took over her duties slowly.

By the time he was twenty and a solid warrior in the pack, the healers barely looked at her and spoke to him instead, no hope in their voices.

He was twenty four when he became third in command of Featherwaters pack.

His hands were now strong enough to kill yet gentle enough to lift her without waking her.

It did not save her.

When she finally died, it felt like finishing something that had started years ago.

She died a miserable life, on the cold floors of the omegas' quarters.

The servants had wrapped quickly, and they buried her as would be fit an omega.

His life continued as a warrior. His body betrayed his birth, Six foot four, broad shouldered, sculptured chest, strong.

Concealed what he truly was.

People looked at him and assumed warrior's blood not an Omega's blood.

He didn't correct them, he didn't even know who his mother was, she never spoke about him.

Never.

His mother was dead, and to protect the only thing left for him, he began to train harder to become one of the best warriors in his pack.

Two weeks later, someone who claimed himself to be his uncle appeared in Featherwaters pack to console him.

Evren was called into the inner yard.

His commander and elders stood near the steps, pretending to discuss patrol rotations.

Evren saw their eyes drift towards the gate as a man walked in.

A huge man, almost as huge as he was. The man wore travel clothes that were too clean and too pressed.

When his eyes landed on Evren, he smiled in pity.

"This is your uncle," his commander said. "Eric."

Evren frowned.

Uncle? His mother was an only child so that would mean...

The man, Eric stepped forward and clasped Evern's forearm. His scent was very unfamiliar. Not Featherwaters.

Everyone excused them and both sat down.

"I'm sorry for your loss," Eric said in a too smooth voice. "Your mother was... unfortunate."

Unfortunate.

That was the best word this man could use to quantify his mother's death.

Evren said nothing.

Uncle Eric offered condolences but said nothing about Evren's father. Nothing about why no one came sooner.

This man called uncle Eric smiled too much and spoke like he was testing the weight of his words and Evren's reactions.

Evren listened in silence.

Because what could he do?

Get angry and ask why his uncle was just showing up?

Demand to see his father?

No.

If his uncle or even his father wanted to show up, they would have a long time ago. If his father truly wanted him, he would have come years ago.

Evren only shook his head. This man in front of him was spurting rubbish.

He would have preferred for him not to show up at all.

So he interrupted calmly, "Eric..." Then he stood up slowly, "You can leave and don't ever come back."

Evren in all his powerful self walked away. Shock crossed the man's face. Offense, even at the sheer arrogance of this young child.

Evren didn't wait to see either.

He was still brewing when he crossed the gutters, boots thudding the ground in suppressed anger.

That was when a maid carrying a bowl of water ran into him.

Cold water splashed down his chest, soaking his shirt and outlining his very defined chest.

He froze before looking down and big brown eyes stared back at him sheepishly wide.

And unafraid.

"Really?" He said, voice flat as he narrowed his eyes at her.

The female blinked once then giggled.

Amused, like she knew exactly how ridiculous the situation was and didn’t feel the need to pretend otherwise. She shifted her weight slightly, bare toes curling against the stone, eyes still locked on his.

"I was distracted,” she said simply.

By him. They both knew it.

Before he could reply, she rose on her toes and kissed him. He slid his arm around her waist without thinking, pulling her close, the tips of his fingers resting on her backside.

The cold soaked in his chest faded.

They both melted into the kiss, the small female sighing against his mouth, hands curling into his wet shirt as he kissed her back slower and deeper. Their scents mingled together soothing the anger and bitterness in his chest. Sweet cocoa and vanilla, perfect together.

She pulled back first, breathless.

"Hi," she beamed.

Evren exhaled slowly and beamed back, softer than he had been the whole day.

"Hi, baby."