Chapter 8

Thirteen years prior It had been a week since his father told him to stay away from Celia. Lucas had tried to listen. Really, he had. He didn’t talk to her at school. Didn’t look at her during lunch. When they were both outside at recess, he played tag with the other kids instead of crawling around the fence with to look for clovers. And it sucked. Every day, he felt worse. At first she had tried to catch his eye, but he had looked away and pretended he didn’t see. She didn’t talk to him. Didn’t say anything. But he saw the way her shoulders hunched, the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention. Her eyes were too wide and sad. Like he’d kicked her puppy or broken something important. And maybe he had. He missed her laugh. Missed the way she always shared the sweets her dad slipped into lunch and never made fun of the way he flinched at loud noises. But he also remembered the way his dad had yelled at his mom that night after he made silly faces in the dining hall. It was so loud he could hear it in his bedroom. “He’s the son of the alpha! He can’t be playing with strays or whatever the hell that child is!” “They’re children, Marcus!” she had yelled back. “She’s just an innocent little girl. There’s nothing wrong with her or him.” “He could be alpha one day! It’s important that he associates himself with the right people.” “He’s seven-years-old! Plus, Landon is your heir.” “Not if that retard can’t learn to read. He’s almost ten!” “He’s dyslexic, Marcus. Goddess, don’t call him that.” “It doesn’t matter, Ophelia! Either way, Lucas should not be hanging around that little stray. He needs to learn to act like an alpha.” The screaming had continued until he had finally heard his fists making contact and her soft sobs through the wall. At some point, Landon had crept in and laid next to him. Lucas didn’t really understand what any of that had meant. But he understood that his dad was mad. That if he kept being friends with Celia, it would only make things worse. Now he curled up tighter in his bed, hugging his favorite stuffed toy, a little gray wolf named Rusty, close to his chest. He hadn’t talked to Celia in seven days. He had counted every one. And he couldn’t do it anymore. Throwing off his blanket, Lucas tiptoed to the door. He pressed his ear to it, listening. No footsteps. No creaking floorboards. Good. He crept out of the pack house staying close to the shadows. Her house wasn’t far. The porch light was off, but he saw a soft glow coming from the back bedroom window. He picked up a tiny rock and tapped the glass. A moment passed. Then Celia’s face appeared, framed in the glass, confused and sleepy. Her eyes widened when she saw. The window creaked open and she leaned out, whispering, “Lucas?” “Can I come in?” She nodded and stepped back. Lucas climbed through the window clumsily, catching his foot on the sill and nearly falling. She grabbed his hand to steady him, and it felt like the first real thing that had happened all week. She didn’t ask what he was doing there. She just stood in her pajamas, staring at him like he might disappear. “I brought you something,” he whispered, holding out the little gray wolf. “Rusty. He helps me sleep when I feel scared. I thought… maybe he could help you too.” Celia looked at the stuffed animal, then back to him. “But he’s yours.” He shrugged, cheeks warm. “Yeah. But you can have him. Just for now.” She hugged him. Just a fast, small squeeze, but it made something in his chest ache. “I thought we were friends,” she said quietly, not letting go of his hand. Lucas looked down. “We are. I didn’t want to stop talking to you.” “Then why did you?” Her voice wobbled. He swallowed hard. “My dad… he said I wasn’t supposed to be friends with you.” Her mouth twisted. “Because I’m a stray?” He nodded, not looking up. “He says I might be alpha one day, and that means I can’t be friends with people like you.” He frowned. “But I don’t get it. You’re nice. You’re my favorite person.” She wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “You’re mine too.” He felt the sting of tears in his own eyes and reached for her hand again. “I didn’t mean to make you sad. I just didn’t want to make him mad.” “I get in trouble too sometimes,” she whispered. “It’s okay.” He nodded, and they stood there for a long moment of silence. “Wanna lay down?” she asked after a minute. He nodded again. She climbed into the bed and pulled back the blanket. Lucas crawled in beside her. She placed Rusty between them like he was guarding them both. They lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling. Her hand found his under the blanket. “I’m glad you came,” she whispered. “Me too.” He yawned, blinking slowly. “Hey, Celia?” he mumbled sleepily. “Yeah?” “Even if I gotta be alpha one day… I think I still wanna be your friend.” She smiled, just barely. “Okay.” And with Rusty curled between them and the scent of something warm and safe in the air, Lucas finally slept. ** When Celia woke up the next morning, the first thing she saw was a little gray paw sticking out from under the blanket. She blinked sleepily and lifted the covers to find Lucas curled up beside her, hugging Rusty to his chest. Her heart gave a happy little flip. He really had come. It hadn’t been a dream. She settled back against her pillow, just watching him breathe. His hair was a tangled mess, his nose scrunched up a little like he was still annoyed by some dream. Even so, he looked peaceful. Not like the Lucas who flinched when people raised their voices. She was glad. Maybe he needed her bed the way she sometimes needed to crawl into her mom and dad’s after a nightmare. After a few minutes, Lucas’s eyes cracked open. He blinked at her, confused, then let out a tiny sigh when he remembered where he was. “You stayed,” she whispered. “Yeah,” he mumbled, his voice scratchy. “It was nice.” They were quiet together. Lucas fiddled with Rusty’s ear, then handed the little wolf over to her. “Here,” he said. “Keep him safe for me, okay? Just for now.” Her eyes went big. “Really?” He nodded. “I’ll come get him later.” She hugged Rusty tight. Having Lucas’s favorite stuffed animal felt like proof they were still best friends. That none of the mean stuff anyone else said mattered. Just then the door opened, and Celia’s mom stepped in. Lenore took one look at the two of them and let out a small sigh. Her eyes darted to the rumpled bed, then to Lucas’s muddy shoes by the window. “Oh, sunflower,” she said, brushing Celia’s hair back. “And Lucas. You two…” She trailed off, pressing her lips together. “Are we in trouble?” Celia asked, hugging Rusty closer. “No, baby. Not exactly.” Lenore forced a small smile. “But you know you can’t have boys sleep over, right? Especially not without asking.” Lucas ducked his head, cheeks pink. Lenore gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Come on.” She called for Harold, and a minute later, Celia’s dad appeared in the doorway, still in his work clothes. His eyebrows lifted when he spotted Lucas. He and Lenore shared a look that made Celia’s tummy feel weird, like they were worried about something but didn’t want to say it. “Morning, troublemakers,” Harold said, but his voice was warm. “Luke, your dad’s probably wondering where you wandered off to.” Lucas’s face fell. He shuffled his feet. “Hey now,” Harold said, giving his shoulder a comforting pat. “I’ll walk you back, alright? We’ll sort it out.” Lucas nodded. Before he left, he looked at Rusty into Celia’s hands. “Keep him safe,” he whispered, and then followed Harold out the door. Celia hugged Rusty so tight her arms hurt. Her mom sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing a wrinkle in the blanket. “Sweetheart,” Lenore started carefully, “maybe you shouldn’t spend quite so much time with Lucas.” Celia’s eyes went huge. “Why not? He’s my best friend!” “I know, I know.” Lenore sighed and brushed a hand over Celia’s hair. “It’s just… some people don’t understand. They think it’s not proper for an alpha’s son to play so much with…” She stopped, pressing her lips together like the words tasted bad. “With what?” Celia demanded. “Me?” “Oh, sunflower.” Lenore pulled her close, hugging her tight. “No, it’s not you. It’s the way people are. Sometimes grown-ups get silly ideas in their heads about who should be friends with who.” Celia pulled back, frowning. “That’s dumb.” “It is,” her mom agreed softly, her eyes sad. “But it can also make life hard. I just don’t want you getting hurt, baby.” Celia’s chin wobbled, tears pricking her eyes. “But Lucas is my best friend.” Lenore looked at her for a long moment, then kissed her forehead. “Alright. I won’t tell you not to be friends. Just… be careful. And remember that your mama and daddy love you very much.” Celia nodded, though she didn’t really understand why everyone seemed so worried. She curled up on her bed with Rusty after her mom left, hugging the little gray wolf and staring out the window. She was glad Lucas had come back. No matter what anyone said, he was still her best friend. And she’d keep Rusty safe until he needed him again.