Chapter 58: Bye dad

Chapter 58 Eamon "Send your regards to Father when you get there," Alric says from the doorway, leaning his shoulder against the frame like he owns the room. I glance up at him. "I don’t think he’ll be very happy to hear from you." "Ha." His laugh is humorless, a single puff of air that doesn’t reach his eyes. He steps in, closing the distance with that same arrogant gait he’s worn like armor for decades. "It’s a good thing I care not what he—nor you—think." "You were never going to be pack leader, Alric." My voice is soft, but it cuts between us all the same. And as I look at him, I can’t help but wonder... when did it all go wrong? At what point did my big brother disappear, leaving this brittle, furious stranger behind? "And why the fuck not?" His lip curls, eyes flashing. "Just because I wasn’t born an alpha? Look at me. I am pack leader." "It’s a fractured pack, Alric." My words are quiet, but there’s steel under them. "Half don’t respect you and never will. The other half accept you, but they look down on you." I study him, really study him, and the truth is bitter. For all his talk about the Maen legacy, my brother has the least qualities of a leader. He thinks it’s because I was born with the title—because fate branded me alpha—but our father wasn’t an alpha wolf either, and he led just fine. Alric is quick to temper, insecure, narcissistic... and when the fight truly turns, spineless. All bark until the moment the teeth sink in. "Al, we both know that’s not gonna happen," I say quietly, my voice more weary than sharp. "Don’t fucking call me that!" he explodes, the veins in his neck standing out. The door cracks open—Ronan steps in, brows drawn—but I shake my head. This is not his fight. He lingers for a heartbeat, then retreats, leaving the room taut with nothing but Alric’s ragged breathing. "And who’s it going to be, huh?" Alric snarls, leaning over me until his shadow swallows the bed. "Your little son-in-law? The half-wolf who can’t even fucking shift?" I meet his gaze without flinching. "Seems like you’re aware." "Over my dead body." "Heavy is the crown, Alric." My words are soft, but they sink like lead. "And you can’t handle the weight." For a second, his lips twitch like he might lunge—then the mask slides back into place. "Rest in peace, brother," he says at last, his tone mockingly formal. "Send my regards to Thalia." He turns on his heel and stalks out, the door slamming against the frame. I stare after him, the sound still ringing in my ears. Somewhere deep down, under all my frustration and disappointment, something cracks. I didn’t expect our last conversation to hurt like this. But it does. I think I said goodbye to my brother long before my body will give out. Just then, the air shifts. Light footsteps pad across the room, and my daughter appears in the doorway. When did she get so big? She used to fit in the palm of my hand—a tiny snowball who could barely open her eyes. Now she moves with the quiet confidence of a woman, though I can still see the child I carried on my shoulders. "Hey, Dad," she says softly. "You look... happy." She sits on the edge of the bed, her fingers curling around mine like she’s afraid to let go. "I get to finally see the love of my life," I answer, smiling faintly. "Who do you love more—me or Mum?" she asks, mischief flickering through her tone. There’s no hesitation. "Thalia." "You couldn’t even pretend to think about it," she says, feigning outrage but with amusement dancing in her eyes. "Don’t worry—you come a close second." She laughs softly, the sound warming the cold in the room for just a moment. "I can’t believe I won’t have my dad anymore," she admits, the words slipping out before she can catch them. "Don’t worry—you’ve got a daddy now. Close enough," I say with a crooked grin. She groans instantly, dragging a hand down her face. "Please don’t. You’ve ruined that word for me forever." "What? What did I do?" I chuckle, even as my chest tightens. "I’ll miss you," she says, voice quieter now, the humor from before fading into something raw. "But I know you’ve held out long enough... longer than necessary. It’s fine now." I huff a small, regretful laugh. "I’m sorry about the whole... getting your mate tortured thing." She exhales sharply, shaking her head. "I couldn’t even be mad at you for long. You had to go and die, didn’t you?" Silence falls between us. Not heavy—just full. "I love you," I tell her, the words firm despite the rasp in my voice. "I love you too," she says softly, and for a moment I can almost pretend I’m not leaving her behind. "I mean, it won’t all be bad," she says after a pause, forcing a small smile. "I have a mate now. And once you’re gone, I’ll leave the pack for a while—with Cameron. See the world. I mean... it’s time I saw more than White Stone." "That sounds lovely," I say, and I mean it. Her smile softens for real this time. "So don’t worry about me, okay?" she says. "It’s not you I’m worried about right now—it’s the pack," I admit. Her expression immediately hardens. "Well, I’m not worried about them. Fuck them." "Lenora," I say in gentle warning, but she doesn’t budge. "It doesn’t change what’s going to happen," I tell her, managing a faint smirk. "Don’t worry—I’ll come with a big fat I told you so in your dreams when it’s time." Her lips twitch despite herself, but I’m already letting my eyes fall shut. I close my eyes for a moment. The pull is there—slow and heavy, like the tide dragging me out to sea. I fight it long enough to open them one last time. "I love you, Snowball," I whisper. Her eyes widen, filling with tears as the weight of my words sinks in. "I love you," she answers, her voice breaking as she lowers herself onto my chest. I wrap my arms around my little girl, holding her as tightly as my fading strength allows. One last time. "Bye, Dad," she breathes against me. With the last of my will, I press a trembling kiss to her forehead. Then I lean back into the pillows. And this time, when the darkness that’s been calling me for years reaches for me... I don’t resist.