The Alpha's Dark Solstice Claim

Chapter 13 - Observation.

Rowan

I kept my distance. That was the agreement. Not spoken. Not acknowledged. But understood. I stayed across the street, leaning against the shadowed edge of a parked truck, far enough that I wouldn’t draw attention … but close enough that I could see him.

Eli. He moved differently than the other children. Not dramatically. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But I did. Of course, I did. The way he watched before he acted. The way his weight shifted slightly when someone came too close behind him.

The way his attention snapped toward small movements others ignored. Instinct. Untrained. Unrefined. But there. Mine. The word came uninvited. Heavy. Certain. I didn’t approach. Didn’t step forward.

Didn’t give in to the pull that tightened in my chest every time he laughed, every time he spoke, every time I saw some reflection of myself in the way he moved through the world. Patience. That was what this required. Not authority. Not force. Time.

I exhaled slowly, forcing my hands to remain loose at my sides instead of clenched. He was safe. That was enough. For now. I told myself that. Again. And again. Until … He turned. Not casually. Not by chance. Directly.

His gaze locked onto mine across the distance. And stilled. For a second, neither of us moved. Then … He started walking toward me. My chest tightened. I pushed away from the truck instinctively, my body already shifting between staying and leaving.

I could still walk away. Still keep the distance. Still …

“Hey.” He stopped a few feet in front of me. Close enough now that I could see the details more clearly. The shape of his eyes. The set of his jaw. Too familiar. Too precise.

“Hi,” I said. The word felt … insufficient. He studied me. Not shy. Not afraid. Just … thinking.

“You’ve been here before,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.” I stuffed my hands into my pockets.

“Why?” He tilted his head to one side the same way Marybeth used to do when she was younger. Because I couldn’t stay away. Because I needed to see you. Because I’m trying to figure out how to be something I’ve never been allowed to be. Instead …

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.” I shrugged, trying to release some of the tension in my shoulders. He considered that. Then nodded slightly.

“I am.” Good. That should have been enough. It wasn’t. He shifted his weight, glancing briefly back toward the school. Then back to me. “You know my mom.” The words landed carefully. Measured.

“Yes.” I nodded.

“How?” He frowned. I hesitated. For the first time in a long time … I didn’t have a clean answer.

“We grew up in the same town,” I said. It wasn’t a lie. Just not the whole truth.

“That’s not what it looked like.” Eli frowned slightly.

“What did it look like?” My chest tightened.

“Like you were fighting.” The word hit harder than it should have. I didn’t even realize that he had seen us fight, but it was accurate. Because he had seen it. Because I had been careless enough to let him. I exhaled slowly.

“We were arguing.” I pulled my fingers through my hair.

“Why?” His young eyes looked right into my soul. Because I want to be your father. Because she won’t let me. Because I don’t know how to fix what I broke before you were even born.

“I said something I shouldn’t have,” I said instead.

“You made her upset.” Eli’s gaze sharpened slightly. It wasn’t an accusation. Just … fact.

“Yes.” The admission came easier than I expected. He was quiet for a moment. Then …

“Don’t do that.” The simplicity of it hit harder than anything else.

“I won’t,” I said. He watched me. Searching. Weighing. Then nodded once.

“Okay.” Something in my chest eased. Just slightly. I took a step closer. Slow. Careful. Not to startle him. Not to push.

“I won’t hurt her,” I added quietly. Eli held my gaze. Then …

“Please, don’t.” The words were soft. “I don’t want my mommy to be unhappy.” He continued, and his words settled deep. Relief. Unexpected. Sharp. I let out a slow breath and nodded. Then, without thinking … I reached out to hug him.

Not fast. Not forceful. Just … instinct. My hands lifting slightly. An invitation. A gesture I hadn’t been allowed to make before. I wanted to reassure him. Eli froze. Not in fear. In uncertainty. He glared at me for a moment. Then he stepped back. Small. Quick. And ran.

Back toward the school. Back to safety. Back to her. My fists clenched for a moment before my hand dropped slowly. The space he left behind felt … louder than it should have. I stood there for a moment. Still. Then I clenched my fists. Tight.

Not in anger. In restraint. I had moved too quickly. Expected too much. Wanted something I hadn’t earned yet. Time. That was what this required. Not force. Not assumption. Time. I looked toward the school.

Toward where he had disappeared. And exhaled slowly. This wasn’t over. Not even close. He didn’t trust me. She didn’t trust me. And I had given both of them every reason not to. But that didn’t change anything. I wasn’t walking away. Not this time. Not again.

I felt I’d broken my promise to Marybeth, but the opportunity to speak with Eli was … too incredible … too precious to just let it go by. I felt torn. I couldn't just give up, but I also couldn't hurt Marybeth. I had to keep my promise to Eli, and I had to figure out how to do it right.