Chapter 11: Chapter Eleven

Oliver stared at the pills in his palm for a long, long moment. His hands stopped shaking. His breath steadied.

Not because he was calm but because something inside him finally… stopped fighting. Stopped hoping. Stopped wanting.

He lifted his head slowly, eyes swollen and glistening, and looked at Grey.

Grey didn’t look back.

He didn’t even bother to check Oliver’s face. He simply stood there, arms crossed, waiting for compliance the way one waits for an obedient pet to perform a command.

That was the moment it happened.

Something in Oliver’s chest— something warm, something foolish, something hopeful went quiet.

Died.

Without a word, Oliver reached for the glass of water. The maids held it out carefully, expecting resistance. There was none.

He placed the pills on his tongue and swallowed them down, the bitterness coating his throat like poison—but he didn’t flinch.

Grey nodded once, satisfied. “Good,” he said. “See? That wasn’t difficult.”

Oliver looked down at the empty glass in his hand.

His voice came out low. Almost numb. “I’ll take them,” he whispered. “After every intercourse. You don’t need to worry.”

Grey didn’t respond.

Oliver set the glass aside and wiped his face with the back of his hand—not to hide his tears, but because they simply didn’t matter anymore.

He pulled the sheets around himself and sat at the edge of the bed, gathering his thoughts, his pain, the remnants of his dignity.

Finally, he whispered, the smallest, saddest truth he’d ever spoken:

“I understand now.”

Grey paused in the doorway, just slightly, but didn’t turn around.

Oliver continued, voice steady though his heart felt shredded.

“All I can do… all I have left… is wait.”

Grey finally turned, eyes narrowed in confusion.

“Wait for what?”

Oliver met his gaze, and for the first time since they bonded, Oliver's eyes held nothing but emptiness. No longing, no hope, no love.

Just the silence of someone who has given up.

“Wait until your mating ceremony with Diana,” Oliver said softly. “When you mark her… You won’t need me anymore.”

A beat of silence.

“Then I’ll accept your rejection,” Oliver whispered. “Properly. And I’ll walk away.”

Grey’s jaw tightened—whether in annoyance, anger, or the faintest flicker of something else, Oliver didn’t know.

Didn’t care.

He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself, his shoulders trembling, but his face numb. “That’s all that’s left for me now,” he finished. “Just wait. And then… be free.”

Grey didn’t answer. He simply stepped out. The door had barely clicked shut behind Grey when Oliver finally drew a breath—shallow, brittle, like it scraped his lungs on the way in.

Then, quietly, he lifted his head.

“Alpha Grey,” he called, voice steady despite the exhaustion lacing it.

Grey stopped in the hallway.

Oliver stood slowly, holding the blanket around his waist like armor, and walked toward the doorway. He didn’t look up fully; just enough to meet Grey’s shoulder, not his eyes.

“Where are my siblings?” he asked.

His tone was just… tired. “I want to meet them.”

Grey shifted slightly, jaw ticking once. His expression was unreadable—annoyed, inconvenienced, or simply indifferent.

“Why?” he asked flatly.

Oliver blinked once, long and slow. His voice didn’t waver. “Because they’re all I have.”

Grey let out a small breath through his nose. Not sympathy—impatience.

“They’re in the East Quarters,” he said. “The private housing wing.”

Oliver’s fingers tightened on the blanket and then he nodded, “I want to see them.”

“You will,” Grey said, staring intently at Oliver. Oliver could feel his heated gaze burning his back, however, he ignored it.

Soon, Grey averted his gaze and stepped back, giving one final order: “Stay put. And don’t cause trouble.”

Oliver lowered his eyes again. “I won’t.”

Grey stared at him for one long moment—confused

…maybe irritated

…maybe something darker beneath the surface.

Then Grey walked away. And when his footsteps disappeared into the corridor, Oliver finally let out a breath that trembled at the edges.

“All I want is to see them,” he whispered to himself, staring at the empty doorway.

The next morning, Oliver couldn’t breathe anymore.

Five days.

Five miserable days since they ripped Lily and Luke away from him like stolen property.

Five days since Grey told him the deal: “Give me what I want, whenever I want it and I’ll take care of your siblings.”

Oliver got dressed with numb hands and walked straight to the private housing wing in the east quarters they dumped the children in.

Even before he reached the door, he heard it.

“STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

Lily’s voice—shrieking.

A harsh crash followed, something shattering.

“Lily!” a woman gasped. “Stop throwing things—”

“I WANT MY ELDER BROTHER! YOU KIDNAPPER!” Lily screamed again.

Oliver froze, his heart clenching painfully. Goosebumps rose on his arms.

Another crash.

He pushed the door open just as Lily hurled a wooden block at the caretaker’s legs. The woman yelped and jumped back.

Luke grabbed Lily’s wrist to stop her from throwing another, pulling her behind him. His glare at the caretaker was cold, sharp, and far too mature for a child his age.

“Don’t come closer,” Luke warned quietly, his jaw tight. “Don’t touch her. You’re not family.”

The caretaker threw her hands up, frustrated. “I don’t know what else to do—they won’t eat, they won’t sleep, and they scream every time I step in—”

Another woman came closer, wanting to grab Lily, however, Luke stepped forward, shielding Lily, his eyes narrowed like a wolf cub ready to bite. “Take one more step and I’ll break the plate.”

Oliver’s breath hitched.

He stepped into the room.

“Lily… Luke…”

His voice cracked, softer than a whisper.

Both children froze.

Luke turned slowly. His glare melted instantly into shock. Lily, mid-tantrum, dropped the toy in her hand as her eyes widened.

“...Brother Ollie?” she breathed.

Oliver nodded, tears already spilling. “Yeah, baby. It’s me.”

There was a beat — one heartbeat of silence.

Then Lily screamed, but this time it wasn’t anger. “BROTHER!”

She launched herself at him so fast he barely caught her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and broke into loud, panicked sobs.

“You left!” she cried into his shirt. “They took us away and you didn’t come! I thought they did something to you—I thought—”

“I’m here,” Oliver choked out, holding her as tightly as he dared. “I’m sorry, Lily. I’m so sorry.”

Luke stood still for a moment, shoulders shaking as he tried to be “the man” like he always did. But his lips were trembling, and tears slid down his cheeks despite him wiping them away quickly.

Oliver opened his free arm. “Come here, Luke.”

Luke stepped forward slowly… then suddenly collapsed into Oliver’s embrace, clutching his waist tightly, his face buried in Oliver’s stomach.

“You didn’t forget us,” he whispered, voice thick. “I knew you wouldn’t. I told Lily you wouldn’t. I told her…”

Oliver held them both, sinking to the floor with their small bodies pressed against him.

His throat burned. His chest hurt. His heart felt like it was splitting open.

“I’ll never forget you,” he whispered into their hair. “Never. They took you away but I will never leave you.”

Lily hiccuped, gripping his shirt. “Take us home, Ollie. Please.”

Luke raised his head, voice timid but hopeful. “Can we go now? We’ll run. We’ll be quiet.”

Oliver shut his eyes hard. Because he couldn’t. Because Grey owned their freedom. Because the deal was their only protection from hardship and debt.

His tears fell on their hair.

“…I’m trying,” he whispered brokenly. “I’m trying so hard.”

For a moment, neither child moved.

Lily’s breathing hitched.

She lifted her head from his shoulder and looked at him with huge, watery eyes, her little face scrunched with heartbreak.

Luke’s fingers fisted in Oliver’s shirt. He pressed closer, as if trying to shield Oliver the way Oliver always shielded them.

“Don’t cry anymore,” Luke whispered, voice thin. “Please, Ollie. We’ll be good. We won’t shout again. We won’t fight anybody. Just don’t cry.”

Oliver swallowed painfully, cupping Luke’s cheek with a shaking palm. “I’m okay,” he lied softly. “I promise I’m okay.”

Lily sniffed loudly, wiping her tear-streaked face with the back of her small hand. Her voice was tiny. “Are they hurting you?”

“No,” Oliver whispered. “No one’s hurting me.”

Physically? He was breaking. Emotionally? He was already broken. But they didn’t need that burden.

He kissed Lily’s forehead, then Luke’s.

“I started working in the pack house,” he said gently, trying to smile. “A real job. So I can take care of you two.”

Oliver's statement wasn't a lie because he decided to beg Grey for a job.

Hearing that Oliver had found a good job, their eyes widened with hope.

“You’ll be staying here for now,” Oliver continued. “You’ll have food, clothes, warm beds. And you’ll go to school. Every day.”

Lily gasped as if he’d announced magic.

“School?” she squealed. “Like, like real school? With books? And uniforms? And snacks?”

Oliver nodded, forcing a smile.

“Yes, baby. All of that.”

“YAY!” Lily shouted, bouncing so hard she almost fell off his lap. “Ollie, Ollie, Ollie! We’re going to school!”

Her joy was so big, so innocent, it stabbed him in the chest.

Luke didn’t bounce. He just stared at Oliver… really stared. His small brows drew together, “You look sick.”

Oliver froze for half a second. His lips curved weakly. “Do I?”

Luke nodded slowly, studying him like a little adult.

“Your eyes are red. Your face is pale. And you’re breathing funny.”

Oliver’s heart twisted. He ruffled Luke’s hair gently. “I’m just tired,” he murmured. “I’ve been working a lot. But I’m fine.”

Luke didn’t look convinced. But he didn’t push, either. He simply pressed himself against Oliver again, hugging his middle tightly.

Lily crawled into Oliver’s lap and hugged him from the other side, giggling breathlessly.

“We’re gonna live together, right?” she asked. “Us three?”

Oliver swallowed, nodding even though it hurt.

“Yes,” he whispered. “When I have enough money, I’ll take you from here. And we’ll get our own place. And we’ll live a good life. All of us.”

Lily sighed happily and hugged him harder. Luke held him silently, refusing to let go. And Oliver sat there between them, smiling for their sake — while his heart quietly bled under the weight of the lie he hoped would one day become true.