Chapter 104
Dax found the young heir in the house, specifically, in the kitchen. Thanks to Dorien blocking his mind and presence, Dax could not sense the young wolf’s state.
However, he knew his son’s temperament.
Once he saw his brother, things would happen.
He knew his sons were close.
Where Dorien was peevish, Reyland was mature. He knew his firstborn could handle his younger brother, but Reyland was not the problem.
Dorien was the issue. He was explosive.
Dax’s mind wandered as he considered his next move. His pack was being tested, but his family was under immediate threat.
His older sons were at risk, and neither one was young enough for him to control with words.
He needed to be careful.
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Dax had never really bonded with his children. He was not an involved parent.
Corien was probably more of a father to both his younger sons than he, their blood-related father, was.
He couldn’t help it.
As for his older sons, they were…different.
After his first wife had passed, a void had been created in his heart.
Even before he had met his first wife, his heart had never been large or accommodating. Before her, if there was anyone he cared about, it could only have been Corien.
After her, there was no one.
He was not a loving person.
If Reyland had not resembled his mother, Dax was not sure he would have cared for the boy as much as he did.
However, he had cherished his first wife, the mother of his first child. She had single-handedly pulled him out of the darkness that had swallowed his heart and mind when he had been forced to marry for peace.
It had not been an easy task.
She had always had a weak constitution all of her life. Dax had felt doubly insulted, cheated, and used when he had been told, and then had experienced the extent of her frailty.
But she had pushed through his walls by sheer force of will, mixed with patience, kindness, and occasional outbursts of her own.
They had gotten a full year together, fully enjoying each other as mates, after which she had gotten pregnant and had fallen bedridden for most of the time.
Then she had given birth to their son, and he had lost her days after the birth.
He had sunk into darkness again, but the baby they had created together had forced him to focus. He had needed to be present for the very unique child.
As the pup had grown, as Dax had dealt with losing his wife, the boy had become a symbol of hers, the only thing of his wife’s that he had, so, he had grown to cherish the child, for the sake of his mother.
Within months, his current wife, his first wife’s younger sister, had been forced on him, still in the name of the same bartered peace agreement between Lightmoon pack and Whitehall pack.
From his first wife, Dax had learned a lot. She had created inroads to his heart that had never existed before her.
Thanks to that, he had been able to make a better marriage the second time around.
His conscious consideration toward his new bride, combined with her receptiveness, had led to an unexpected understanding between them.
She knew he would not love her, but she knew he would honor her.
And he did, every single day, from the beginning of their marriage.
After a while, he had given her a child of her own.
Two years after his marriage to his current Luna, Zara, his second, current, bride, his third wife, had been another political demand from the Alpha King.
Eventually, he had given her a child as well.
He was not loving, but he was fair.
He was not caring, but he knew the pain both his wives felt.
He felt the same, three times over.
Nevertheless, he did his duty, and they did theirs.
He made it a point to be good to his wives, to his children; as good as he could manage.
Corien took care of the rest.
What he could not provide emotionally, Corien took care of.
Even after the war, Corien still cared for his family, supported his children, respected his wives.
Dax pulled his mind away from his former brother and friend.
Refocused on his sons, the reasons for his current troubles.
The only thing Dax had ever chosen, ever selected, ever freely carried in his life was his son, his heir, Dorien.
For Dax, Dorien was his own.
Closer than blood.
If he had not had Reyland, if Reyland had not been so clever, so wise, so considerate, so compassionate, so much like his first wife, Dorien would have been the only child he acknowledged.
The boy was so similar to himself that, more than once, he found himself wondering whether the boy was not indeed truly his offspring.
Maybe one of his many escapades had led to the boy’s birth, and fate had brought him back to his arms.
He often fantasized that Dorien was the child his first wife had borne.
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Dax inhaled quietly as he stood beside Reyland, feeling Dorien where he had hidden himself.
His two greatest possessions.
Dorien was hiding his presence, much like the vixen had, early Christmas morning, when she had been at his son’s window.
And just like that day, he had sourced the hidden shifter out, with the power of the pack link that was bestowed on any pack alpha, and his own gift.
These children!
Dax reflexed, then caught himself.
Marian…that vixen, he mused darkly, and stopped.
The moment when Marian had almost called him uncle on Christmas morning flashed in his mind.
Her pleading gaze as she leaned against the former pack Beta.
Dax closed his eyes again.
That…
He refused to finish his thought.
He refused to form any cogent thoughts.
He drank down the rest of the beer, which he had been consuming in silence as he and his son watched the sun set.
As he closed off his mind to any possible intruders.
He handed the empty bottle to Reyland.
“Duty calls,” he murmured in his deep voice.
Reyland took the bottle from his father, his eyes on the darkening sky.
“I envy you, Father,” Reyland said softly.
“Hmmm?” Dax replied inquiringly, his eyes also on the sky, his focus on the pregnant clouds.
“You have so many people around you…who care for you…and…you care for them so much, as well. I envy that,” Reyland expounded hesitantly.
Dax was silent.
“I can’t do what you do,” Reyland whispered, “I don’t care about people. I…I hate them. I don’t want them around me –”
Dax placed a hand on his son’s large, but firm shoulder.
He rubbed absently, missing the softness that was normally there.
“You won’t have to deal with them, I promise you,” Dax replied hoarsely.
He knew exactly what his son was talking about.
What the boy was NOT saying.
“How?” Reyland whispered, “They are coming…they will come…I can’t –”
“I promise you, son –” Dax pressed patiently.
“Father! He sold you! SOLD you! How can you stop Grandfather from –” Reyland cut in, leaning toward his father.