Christian (bxb) (Part three for Arlo)

Silent battles

(Christian)

I sat in my room, my hands resting on my lap, thinking about everything that had happened with Jaxon, Mason, and Greyson—it had been amazing.

They listened to me, understood what I was going through, and told me they’d wait as long as I needed.

They promised they’d never push me into anything I wasn’t ready for. But none of that made the knot in my stomach go away.

The fear. The loneliness. The feeling that I was broken because I hadn’t gotten my wolf yet.

It had been a week since that talk. A week since I told them I wasn’t ready. And still no wolf.

I’d been trying to focus on my future, but everything felt so far out of reach.

I couldn’t even think about going to college without feeling like it was all slipping through my fingers. I wasn’t like them.

I wasn’t like dad, or my Pop. They were all so sure of who they were, so confident in their powers, in their wolves.

And I? I felt like I was just waiting for something to happen. Waiting for a wolf that didn’t come.

I thought I could push through it, pretend like everything was fine, but it wasn’t. And that night, when Dad sat down next to me, his expression serious, I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

"Christian, we need to talk," Dad said, his voice low but firm. His eyes, those deep blue green eyes, were filled with concern. I hated seeing him like this. I hated feeling like I was letting him down.

“I don’t want to stay home,” I said quickly, feeling the heat of frustration building in me. Dad's eyebrows furrowed.

"I know you want to go to college, son, but you have to understand how dangerous it is out there for you right now." He replied.

“I don’t care about danger,” I snapped, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

“I care about living my life, Dad. I want to go to school. I want to have some control over what happens to me. I’m not a baby anymore.” He didn’t say anything at first, just stared at me, his mouth set in a hard line.

“You’re not a baby, Christian. But you’re also not a full wolf yet. And until that happens, you can’t protect yourself like you think you can.” He can't be serious.

“I’m not helpless, Dad!” I shouted, standing up and pacing.

“I don’t need everyone watching over me. I don’t need everyone telling me what I can and can’t do. I’m eighteen. I should be able to make my own choices.” Dad's voice softened, but it didn’t make me feel any better.

“Christian, I know this isn’t easy for you. But it’s not just about you. It’s about your safety. You’re not ready. You’re not complete yet. You can’t—” He said.

“I’m not a freak!” I cut him off, my heart pounding. The words felt raw, like they came from somewhere deep inside, somewhere I didn’t want to admit existed.

“I don’t have my wolf, and I’m not like everyone else. I don’t fit into your perfect little world, Dad. I’m broken.” Dad flinched at the word, but it was already out.

“You’re not broken,” He said, his voice shaking.

“You’re just… different. You’ll get your wolf when the time is right. You have to trust that.” I shook my head when he said that.

“I can’t wait forever.” I ran a hand through my hair, the frustration clawing at my insides.

“I can’t keep living like this. I can’t keep pretending I’m fine when I’m not. When I don’t even know who I am anymore.” Dad didn’t speak right away. He just watched me, his eyes filled with something I couldn’t quite read. After a long silence, he finally spoke again, softer this time.

“I don’t want to lose you, Christian,” He said quietly.

“I know you want space, and I know you think this is the only way to get it, but running away… it’s not the answer.” I opened my mouth to argue, but the words got stuck. I didn’t want to hear it. I didn’t want to be told I was wrong, that I was making a mistake.

But something in my chest broke at the way he said it, the way his voice trembled just slightly.

“I’m not going to lose you, but I can’t let you run away from the people who care about you, either.” Dad repeated, this time stepping closer.

“I don’t feel like anyone cares about me, Dad,” I whispered, the anger fading into something much worse—sadness.

“I feel so alone. No one gets it. Not you. Not Pop. Not anyone.” Dad’s face crumpled at the words, and for a moment, I thought he might reach out to touch me.

But I couldn’t let him. I was too far gone, and the hurt in me was too big. I backed away, my chest tight.

“I need some air,” I muttered, my voice cracking.

“I’ll be back.” I didn’t wait for him to say anything. I didn’t care anymore.

I ran out of the room, out of the house, into the cool night air, my legs carrying me faster than my mind could keep up. I didn’t know where I was going, didn’t care. I just needed to get away.

I ran for what felt like hours, my heart pounding in my chest, my mind a blur of anger, hurt, and confusion. I didn’t know what I was doing, didn’t know why I kept running. But it was the only thing that felt right.

When I finally stopped, I was standing at the edge of the woods, breathing heavily, my chest aching. I had no idea how far I’d come, but I didn’t care.

What had I expected? I didn’t know. I just wanted to escape everything. The pressure. The expectations. The people who loved me but couldn’t understand me.

I stood there for a long time, tears slipping down my face without me even realizing it. I hadn’t gotten my wolf. I wasn’t like everyone else. I was broken, incomplete, and I didn’t know how to fix it.

And then, I heard footsteps.

“Christian,” Dad’s voice called softly.

“Come back inside.” I didn’t turn around. I didn’t want to. I was too afraid of what he would say, of what I would have to face.

I didn’t know how to fix myself. I didn’t know if I could ever be the person everyone wanted me to be.

“I’m not ready,” I whispered.

“I know, son,” Dad said, his voice thick with emotion.

“But we’ll wait for you. You don’t have to do this alone.” I didn’t respond. I just stood there, staring into the darkness. I wasn’t ready. And I didn’t know if I ever would be.