Chapter 32 Chapter Thirty-Two
The packhouse was quiet, bathed in that pale stillness that came just after sunrise.
Julian parked in the drive, cutting the engine and sitting there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel like it might hold the answers to the chaos in his head. He exhaled, rubbed a hand over his face, and stepped out—the cool morning air hitting his skin like a quiet reprimand.
He slipped inside, his footsteps soundless on the polished floor. The halls were empty—mercifully so. No staff. No father. No Elara waiting to pounce like a predator.
Maybe, for once, the universe would spare him. Maybe he could make it to his room unnoticed.
He only wanted a shower—ten minutes of peace before everyone started tearing into him.
“Julian.”
The voice stopped him cold. Stern. Controlled.
He turned slowly, shoulders tensing. His father stood at the far end of the hall, arms crossed, gaze sharp as a blade. “A word,” he said, already turning toward the conference room.
Julian shut his eyes briefly, muttering under his breath, “Of course.”
He followed. The walk down the corridor felt longer than it should have, every step dragging him closer to the inevitable—to the questions he wasn’t ready to answer.
When he stepped into the conference room, the sight that greeted him made him drag a hand through his hair with a groan.
Jace stood beside the table, arms folded, that familiar look of exhausted loyalty written all over him. His mother sat quietly near the end of the oak table, her gaze flicking from her mate to her son with calm, quiet focus.
Julian let out a low sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Great,” he muttered. “A family ambush.”
Julian closed the door behind him, the click sharper than he meant, slicing through the heavy quiet of the room.
His father moved to take the seat beside his mother, posture rigid, hands clasped neatly on the table. “Sit,” he said, gesturing to the chair across from them.
“I’m fine standing,” Julian replied, voice even.
His father’s gaze didn’t waver. “Sit down, Julian.”
The command held no room for argument. He exhaled through his nose and sank into the chair, resting his forearms on his knees, head bowed slightly.
For a moment, no one spoke. His father simply looked at him—steady, assessing, disappointment etched into every line of his face.
Then, finally, he broke the silence. “Where were you last night?”
Julian’s jaw tightened. “Out,” he said simply. “Lost track of time.”
His father’s expression hardened. “You were well beyond the pack lands,” he said. “I tried to reach you through the mind-link. You were out of range.”
Julian leaned back slightly, eyes drifting toward the window before returning to his father. “I took a drive,” he said, keeping his tone casual. “Didn’t realize how late it had gotten.”
His father’s eyes narrowed. “A drive that lasted all night long?”
The question hung there, heavy and deliberate, daring Julian to offer something better than what they both knew was a lie.
Julian didn’t answer though. The silence stretched, taut and unrelenting, until his father finally leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on his son.
“Do you know why I decided to step down as Alpha and allow you to take my place so young?”
Julian’s jaw flexed. He kept his eyes on the table. “Because you thought I could handle it.”
His father’s voice came low, firm. “No. Because I knew you could.”
Julian looked up, meeting the man’s gaze.
“You were everything an Alpha should be,” his father continued. “Disciplined. Focused. Controlled. You led without ego—without letting emotion cloud your judgment. You listened before you acted. You held this pack together through battle, through betrayal, through losses that would’ve broken lesser men.”
He paused, letting the weight of those words hang in the air. “You were unwavering, Julian. My son. My successor. The Alpha who didn’t flinch—who didn’t let his heart dictate his rule.”
Julian’s gaze hardened. “So what, you find me incapable now? You think I’ve gone soft?”
His father didn’t answer right away. He studied his son for a long moment before saying quietly, “I don’t know, son. What I do know is that an Alpha never abandons his mate.”
Julian’s shoulders tensed, his throat working as he swallowed down the weight of that truth. He gave a faint nod—not in concession to his father, but to himself. Because he knew it. He’d done it. He had abandoned someone who he wish he hadn’t. Someone who may never forgive him for it.
His father’s tone sharpened. “And yet, you did. You left Elara alone — in front of all the watchful eyes, questioning your loyalty.”
Julian’s head lifted, his voice low. “Elara is not my mate.”
The older man’s composure cracked. His voice rose, anger bleeding through. “She is the mate you chose.”
Julian fired back without hesitation, “No. She’s the mate you chose.”
The silence that followed was sharp as broken glass — brief, but searing.
His father’s eyes flashed. “You had no objection taking her into your bed for the last two years,” he snapped, “or parading her around on your arm at every pack festivity.”
Julian’s lips pressed into a thin line, his father’s words landing heavier than he wanted to admit.
His father’s glare hardened. “So what’s changed, Julian? Aside from you sneaking off and fucking around with some whore?”
Julian’s wolf surged, teeth bared in his chest — feral, outraged, snarling at the insult. Not to him, but to her.
To his.
The creature didn’t care about politics or reputations — it knew only that she had been reduced to filth by another man’s mouth.
Julian’s head snapped up, fury flashing across his features. “I have been with no whore,” he bit out, his voice sharp enough to cut through the air.
His father leaned forward, unflinching. “Whore, fling, side piece—it doesn’t matter what you call her. It ends now.”
Julian’s hands clenched into fists against his knees, but his father pressed on.
“You have a duty to uphold,” he said, his tone low but blistering with authority. “You will not tarnish this pack’s reputation because you can’t keep your cock—or your emotions—in check. If word gets out that you’re stepping out on Alpha Garrick’s only daughter, the girl he treats like the Queen of the fucking Nile, he will sever ties with us in an instant. And when he does, others will follow. Our alliances, our stability, everything this pack has built—gone. Do you understand what’s at stake here?”
Julian’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together as the words forced their way out. “I understand,” he said through clenched teeth. And he did. That was the problem. He understood too damn well—what was at stake, what was expected of him, and what it would cost to keep pretending he could balance both.
His father’s shoulders eased slightly, his tone lowering but no less firm. “Good. Then what’s it going to be, Julian? Are you finished with this… recklessness?”
Julian didn’t answer right away. His gaze flicked toward his mother. There was something in her eyes—a glint of sorrow, maybe guilt—like she was holding back words she wasn’t allowed to say.
Then his eyes shifted to Jace, who stood silently near the edge of the table. The Beta’s expression said everything without a sound: Don’t look at me. I can’t save you from this one.
Julian’s throat tightened as he turned back to his father. Every fiber of him felt like it was splintering beneath the surface—duty on one side, desire on the other—neither offering mercy.
Finally, he spoke, voice steady but hollow. “I won’t disappoint you again,” he said quietly. “I’ll put the pack first. As a true Alpha should. And I’ll honor my Luna-to-be.”
The words tasted like forgery on his tongue.
His wolf recoiled at them—growling low, ears flat, pacing just beneath the surface like it could feel the lie more than he could.
Luna-to-be? the creature all but spat.
Julian shut his eyes for a moment, willing the instinct away. He told himself it was the right thing—the only thing left to do.
The woman he truly wanted had made it clear she didn’t want him.
But the wolf didn’t believe it.
Not for a second.
When he looked back at his mother, her eyes had softened, a deep, aching sadness staring back at him. He didn’t understand it. Not yet.
His father nodded once, satisfaction flickering in his eyes. “That’s the son I raised,” he said, rising from his chair. His voice softened, but only slightly. “Elara’s family will fly in the night before the ceremony. There’ll be a dinner to honor their arrival. I expect you to show Alpha Garrick that his daughter is loved and cherished here. Understood?”
Julian said nothing. He only inclined his head—the gesture alone enough to appease his father.
“Good,” the older man said. “Let’s not give anyone reason to question your leadership again.”
He clapped a heavy hand on Julian’s shoulder before walking out, the sound of his footsteps fading down the hall.
Jace lingered a moment longer, his eyes searching Julian’s face. He looked like he wanted to say something—anything—but the tension in the room made it impossible. With a quiet exhale, he followed Julian’s father out the door.
That left only his mother.
Julian felt her gaze before he looked up. When he did, she was already smiling softly at him—the kind of smile that carried warmth and sorrow in equal measure.
She rose from her seat and crossed to him, her hand brushing his arm lightly. “You remind me so much of your father,” she said, her voice tender. “But there’s a part of you he’ll never understand.”
Julian frowned. “And what part is that?”
Her eyes shimmered with something unspoken—something that seemed to reach back through years of silence.
“The part of you that reminds me of myself,” she said quietly. “Especially the part that was too afraid to disappoint my father.”
Before he could respond, she turned and left the room, her fragrance lingering faintly in her wake.
Julian stood there a long moment after she was gone, her words looping in his head like a whisper that refused to fade.