His Stray

Chapter 16

Nine Years Prior

“I heard Celia burned her pencil in her hand,” Landon commented as they walked the path back from school to the pack house.

Lucas grimaced. “Yeah. Teegan was whispering mean things to her in class and Celia got mad and then…” He made an explosive gesture with his hands.

“Man,” Landon half-laughed, “I wish I had seen it. I bet it was awesome.”

“It wasn’t awesome,” Lucas snapped. “Celia was so upset she started crying. The teacher was yelling at her.” His throat tightened as he remembered the look on her face. “Then, when she left, everyone was making fun of her. Calling her a freak and a witch and…” He broke off, chest heaving.

Landon frowned. “Relax, Luke.” They walked for a few moments in silence before Landon glanced sideways at him again. “What did you do?”

Lucas kicked at a rock in the path. “What do you mean?”

“Did you tell them to stop? Did you stand up for her?”

“No.” Lucas’s stomach twisted.

Landon shook his head. “You always call her your best friend, but you don’t act like it when anyone else is around. If you really care about her, why do you let people treat her like that?”

“I don’t let them,” Lucas muttered, heat rising in his cheeks. “They wouldn’t listen to me anyway.”

“Maybe. Maybe not. But at least she’d know you had her back.”

Lucas bit the inside of his cheek, wishing the ground would swallow him. He hated the sting of his brother’s words because they were true. He cared about Celia more than anyone, but when it mattered most, he always froze.

They walked on, the air heavy between them. After a while, Lucas said quietly, “Don’t you ever wonder about her? We don’t even know where she came from. What if she isn’t… even a werewolf?”

Landon gave him a searching look. “Does it really matter?”

Lucas hesitated. “No,” he said quickly. But inside, the word tangled in knots. Because it did matter to him. It mattered more than he wanted to admit.

**

Lucas was always relieved when his father was on a trip. There was a peace in the alpha wing that never existed when he was home. His mother would finally relax, laughing and playing with them like they were little again.

Tonight she let them have a special dinner in the sitting room, a space they usually weren’t allowed in. She had asked Lenore to make one of Landon’s favorite dishes, a chicken pasta that Lucas also loved. Then she brought out sodas and a cake from the bakery in town, things their father never would have allowed.

They dug into the cake first, Landon stealing the corner piece with the most frosting. Lucas swatted at him, and Landon shoved a bite into his mouth with exaggerated delight. Their mother laughed, her eyes bright as she reached across to dab a smear of frosting on Lucas’s nose.

“Mom!” he groaned, rubbing it off while Landon howled with laughter.

“You looked like you needed a little extra sweetness,” Ophelia teased, lifting her glass for another sip. Lucas noticed she had been sipping often that night. Though she smiled easily, a faint flush colored her cheeks. He wasn’t sure if she was drunk, but he had noticed she was drinking more lately. All he knew was that she seemed looser and sillier than she had in a long time.

For the first time in weeks, Lucas felt completely at ease. Without his father’s presence pressing on him, the sitting room felt warm and safe.

When the laughter settled, Ophelia set her glass aside and glanced at Lucas. “How is Celia doing?”

He froze, fork halfway to his mouth. “She’s fine.”

“I heard about what happened at school,” she said gently. “Poor girl. I always worry about her.”

Lucas ducked his head, the words he might have said tangling in his throat.

It was Landon who spoke. “Why do you worry about her?”

Ophelia’s smile faded, her eyes distant. “Because I found Celia in the woods. I would have kept her here with us if your father had allowed it.”

Lucas’s eyes shot up. “Really?”

She nodded, her expression softening with memory. “It was such a strange night. There had been a fire in the forest just outside our borders. There had also been rogue sightings only hours earlier, so everyone was called out to investigate and secure the territory. I went out to help. Near the border, I heard crying.”

Her eyes misted as she went on. “She was so small and scared. Covered in soot. No one else was around, and she ran straight to my wolf. She wasn’t afraid at all. She just grabbed my fur and buried her face in it. That was when I knew her parents must have been werewolves. Only a pup raised around wolves would be so trusting.”

Lucas blinked, trying to imagine Celia so tiny, clinging to their mother.

“What happened after that?” Landon prompted.

“I brought her back to the pack house. She stayed here in the alpha wing for nearly a week.” Ophelia smiled faintly at Lucas. “She crept into your bed almost every night, Lukey. It’s amazing how you two always find each other.”

“Why did she go live with Lenore and Harold?” Landon asked, shoveling another bite of cake into his mouth.

“I wanted to keep her. I always dreamed of having a little girl, but your father said no. He told me we couldn’t keep a stray. But you do not turn away an orphan found on pack territory. That would be an affront to the Moon Goddess. Pups must be protected and cared for, even if they are not from your pack. So Marcus could not turn her out.”

“How did she end up with Lenore and Harold?” Lucas asked, leaning forward.

“They had always wanted a pup,” Ophelia said with a sad smile. “Lenore once told me how she and Harold had dreamed of a child but never had one of their own. I knew they would adore Celia. I knew she would be loved. So I suggested them to your father, and he agreed.”

Ophelia’s gaze dropped to her glass before she spoke again. “They are a good family for Celia. I only wish the rest of the pack would leave that little girl alone. They treat her like a disease.”

Lucas glared at his plate. “I wish people would be nicer to her. She’s a good person.”

“She is,” Ophelia agreed softly. “But most people follow by example. They follow the lead of their alpha. Unfortunately, your father is not a tolerant man. If he will not accept Celia, the pack will not either.”

“That’s wrong,” Landon exclaimed, slamming his fist against the table. “Celia doesn’t deserve that.”

“That is life, I’m afraid.” Ophelia reached out to smooth Landon’s hair from his forehead. “There isn’t much we can do to change it.”

“I’m going to be alpha one day,” Landon said fiercely. “I’ll change it.”

For a moment, something flickered in their mother’s eyes, a shadow of sadness Lucas didn’t understand. Instead of answering, she reached for one of the sodas, cracked it open, and forced a bright smile. “Now, enough of this serious talk. Whoever eats the last piece of cake has to wash the dishes.”

Landon and Lucas groaned in unison, which sent her into another fit of laughter.