121

121
Astella's POV

I am narrating this with regard to Liam, both through my enhanced pack bonds that I feel walking towards me and the brown eyed look of truth flashing before us in our once-was marriage. Knowing all that I know now, knowing what it means to love Thane and experience the miracle of the baby growing beneath my heart, my other heart aches for this man who could not find it within himself to forgive me for dusting myself off. He's not here as part of some nefarious assault or anything. He came here because he really has convinced himself that the tie between you and us is somehow a mistake, an illusion.

I see him from the nursery window, tall and cocksure as ever, sandy hair catching the winter light, blue eyes grazing over our land with a ferocity born of months of internal torment. The dozen other werewolves accompanying him move like the trained pack soldiers they are, however I extend my senses and can tell they do not enjoy this. They do not believe in the cause for which their Alpha died, but rather fall in line as loyalty dictates.

The intuitive edge is tempered by Thane's protective streak. Weary of so much, too tough to look at yet tired like he's fought too many wars that can't be beat through sheer power alone. Something has driven him here, and it's been gnawing at him for months.

The tales of Draco, I realize with awe beginning to build evident to my shaman perceptions as a field enveloping Liam and the others. Additionally, "Each of the restless who cross in reaches his and her most peculiar home conveying stories of our child's capacities and the shapeshifting forces that can happen when bonded is picked. This was especially the worst for someone who is already dealing with enough feelings of not being good enough..."

Yvonne says "It would be torture," in a voice much softer than you'd expect from someone who has every reason to see Liam as an imminent danger. “Listening incessantly about the child you could never have, of the love you could never penetrate, the wholeness you could not possibly achieve. I almost feel sorry for him."

In his crib Draco stirs, tiny green eyes following something we can't see as his 5th dimensional consciousness senses the coming conflict. An aura of defensive power emanates from his very being and it coaxes the world to be real, to give some shape or substance… as if he is quietly reminding this fracturing universe that there is a family that exists somewhere deep inside it.

I whisper in wonder, astonished at my own awareness of this instinctive pursuit considering the baby is no more than a baby. “Somehow he knows that someone is coming who will need to pry us apart, and he uses his powers to make our bonds tighter, more solid.”

High Priestess Morgana marvels at the small baby, "That level of strategic thinking in a three-month-old should not be possible," her age-spotted face displaying the professional wonderment of an immortal who has been studying supernatural growth for centuries. "His mind works on a plane of existence that exists above normalcy levels.”

By doing so, and with our son ready for the protections he carries, Liam's group approaches even further into our territory, entering what the formal rules for such contests define as an engagement. Luckily, ancient laws that are obeyed by all werewolf packs in order to keep the peace kick in on its own and creates a neutral ground where matters must be discussed so they can not escalate into war — until war is deemed necessary.

Liam says, his voice carrying over the winter air like a command issued by some man who has never learned doubt of his own rectitude. "Alpha King Thane. I claim here the right to challenge under the rules of antiquity. You have stolen what is rightfully mine, and I demand satisfaction.”

"Theft?" Though diplomatic wisdom indicates this is Thane's moment, not mine, I cannot seem to bring myself to restrain my voice. “Liam, I was never something that belonged to you. I chose, or we could say: I decided — a type of decision every sentient being has the right to establish.”

“A decision ever so subtly manipulated by unnatural forces,” he nods back the strictly accusative look in his icy blue eyes piercing into mine with an air of complete certainty. “A decision influenced by forces that are unnatural, ties that break the rules of nature. See what your "choice" has wrought -- a child who defies reality weft and warp, threads that reach beyond the imaginable horizon, shifts that challenge even our underlying nature.”

“Your interpretation of what we are,” Thane corrects in his Alpha King voice that seems to force the air down, actually making it heavier. “The bonds we've created, the unity we've become, the love that was ours to choose—none of it is against nature. It expands it. Well it shows that the natural order of things bends far more than you know what to do with.”

But as this philosophical debate goes on I feel a kind of cosmic see-sawing around us that has nothing to do with werewolf-made politics and everything to do with the deeper forces our son's born circumstance heart partakes in. The shimmers Draco brings into the situation are colliding with how fraught the confrontation is, intensifying emotions across the board—raising them much higher than anyone here meant.

Realization dawns, raising a budding sense of horror within me. Our infant son starts to give off radiation synchronous with the increased tension flourishing between the Alphas. Draco feels his power activate in response to some perceived threat to the stability of our family. Let this extend to his violent streak, and his powers will express themselves in ways beyond our understanding or control.

Thane decides, in the typical Alpha certainty that has always led us through every crisis we've seen. "Then we finish this. You wanna question that bond Liam? Fine. We do it in the old fashioned manner, according to ancient laws, with certified witnesses and cleansing rituals. Ambushing us, manipulating us, tying our son to your grievances.”

Liam– satisfied that his coaxed hostility has resulted so timely in this formal gauntlet togged response. Single combat between Alphas, with the right to claim the disputed mate as the stake. To the victor go these spoils, and also the vanquished will be banished from these lands for all time.

Even knowing only the diplomatic necessity of the terms behind their cases sends ice through my veins. Liam still thinks of me as more of a possession, something that can be either won or lost rather than a person who gets to make her own decisions. But the moment that something extraordinary happens before I can register my complaints.

It is not an attack or a defense, but Draco simply sends out a multidimensional form of energy which causes every person in the room to know, for just a split second, how true family feels like by choice.

Liam's reaction is both immediate and crushing. In that moment of true love, true freedom, true oneness he finally gets a glimpse of what has been lacking all this time, what he has never been able to produce himself, no amount of success and victory could ever show him.