His Stray

Chapter 17

Present

Celia was just locking up the kitchen door when she heard a sound behind her. She spun around, clutching a hand over her heart, and found Landon leaning against the wall.

“What are you doing?” she snapped.

“Waiting for you,” he said, his face unreadable.

She turned fully to face him. “I really wish you and your brother would just leave me alone. I don’t have the mental energy to deal with either of you.”

Landon tilted his head. “You’re his mate.”

She froze. “He told you?”

“More like I figured it out.”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course he didn’t tell you. He won’t tell anyone.”

A faint smirk twisted his lips. “Catching on, are you?”

“What do you want, Landon?” Her arms crossed tight over her chest.

“Jeremiah told me what happened in the dining hall tonight.”

“A bunch of asshats acted like asshats. Nothing new.”

“Except Lucas was there. And he didn’t say anything.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And your point?”

“My point is you shouldn’t be around him. It’s only going to end badly for you.”

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “Why does it matter so much to you?”

Landon shrugged, too casually. “Because someone has to look out for you. Clearly it’s not going to be my little brother.”

“That’s rich coming from you.” Her eyes narrowed. “What happened between you two? Why do you hate him so much?”

He barked a short laugh. “Hate him? That’s a bit dramatic.”

“Is it? Because it sure feels like hate.”

He didn’t answer right away. He pushed off the wall, hands sliding into his pockets, gaze dropping to the ground. “Lucas makes things messy. He always has.” His voice was low, almost reluctant.

Her voice softened despite everything. “You know he always looked up to you. When we were kids, he used to tell me you were the bravest person he knew.”

That stopped him. His mouth opened slightly, then closed. For a second something raw moved across his face, guilt or maybe pain. Then it vanished behind a hollow grin.

“Yeah, well, kids are idiots. They believe in all kinds of things that aren’t real.”

Celia hesitated, suddenly seeing how tired he looked. “Is that why you’re doing this? Trying to scare me off? Because deep down, you still care what happens to him?”

His eyes snapped to hers, startled. For one heartbeat it almost looked like he wanted to say yes. But then his jaw tightened.

“I care what happens to you,” he muttered, so quiet she barely caught it.

Her chest squeezed painfully, but she forced herself to ignore it. “You know what? I’m done with this. If you want to spend your life pretending nothing matters, fine. But don’t drag me into it.”

She turned and stalked off, leaving Landon standing alone in the dark. His smirk faded completely, his shoulders slumping under some invisible weight. By the time she glanced back, he was staring at the ground, regret carved deep into his face.

**

Lucas found his mother in her small sitting room at the back of the pack house. She was curled up in a faded armchair, legs tucked under her, staring out the window at nothing. A half-empty glass rested on the end table beside her, and he caught the faint sour bite of alcohol the moment he stepped into the room.

“Hey, Mom,” he said quietly.

Ophelia jumped a little, then turned to smile at him. It was a tired smile, her eyes glassy. “Lukey-Duck. You’re home.”

He crossed to her and gently kissed her cheek, trying to ignore the stale scent of tequila that rose between them. “I got back yesterday. I came to see you, but you were asleep all afternoon.” He sank into the chair next to hers.

“Ah.” She lifted her glass, took a slow sip, then set it back down with a faint clink. “Yes. I had a bad day yesterday. I was very tired.” Her words were just slightly slurred. He had grown used to it over the years, though it still made his chest tighten.

As a kid, he had clung to her for comfort. But as he got older, she had slipped more and more into the bottle, withdrawing from pack life, from her own sons. He still loved her, but some bitter part of him wondered if she had ever really tried to fight for them at all.

“How have you been, Mom?” he asked softly.

She shrugged. “Oh, you know.”

He frowned, because he did know. He tried to remember her from when he was little, but it was hard. All he could see was the woman in front of him, faded and worn down by life. Her once bright auburn hair had dulled and was streaked with gray. Her light honey-colored eyes, his eyes, looked flat and tired.

Ophelia studied him for a long moment. “Did you find your mate at the academy?”

He shook his head and turned to stare out the window, though all he saw was his own faint reflection.

“What about Celia?”

His head snapped back to her, but he didn’t answer.

“Have you seen her yet?”

Lucas hesitated, then swallowed. “Yeah. I’ve seen her.”

Her lips curved, almost wry. “Is she your mate?”

He looked away again. That was answer enough.

Ophelia let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I knew it. I suspected it would be her for a long time. You were always drawn to that girl, even when it caused nothing but trouble. You thought you were clever, sneaking out at night to see her, but I was your mother. I always knew.”

Lucas rubbed the back of his neck, feeling heat creep up under his collar. “Yeah.”

Her expression softened. “Have you told your father yet?”

He shook his head. “Celia… she isn’t exactly happy that we’re mates.”

Ophelia watched him closely. “She was hurt after you left. It was hard on all of us. You disappeared so quickly. We knew you would go to the academy, but there were still supposed to be a few weeks. Then you were just… gone.”

“I didn’t want to be alpha,” Lucas said quietly. “I didn’t then. I still don’t now. It was too much, when he told me.”

“Better you than Landon,” Ophelia murmured.

Lucas turned sharply to look at her. “How can you say that?”

She stared out the window, a muscle in her cheek twitching. “I love Landon, but he has your father’s temper. You’ve always been the calmer one.”

Lucas thought about his brother. About how Landon had stood between them and their father more times than he could count. How he had taken the worst of it, trying to protect Lucas and their mother.

All Lucas ever did was run. Just like he ran off to the academy.

“You know your father won’t be happy when he learns Celia is your mate,” his mother said after a stretch of silence.

“I know.” He didn’t look at her.

“He’s going to insist you reject her.”

“I know that too.”

She let out a sigh and reached across to touch the back of his hand. He fought the urge to pull away.

“I don’t want to see that happen to you, Lukey,” she whispered. “Losing your fated mate… it’s like having a piece of your heart carved out of you.”

He turned to her again and saw the tears welling in her eyes. “You loved him? Your fated mate?”

She picked up her glass and took a long drink. “Very much. Leaving him was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Then why did you?” The question had burned inside him for years.

Ophelia stared into her glass for a long time. A single tear slid down her cheek. “What choice did I have? My parents said it was my duty, that I was honor-bound to make the alliance. There was no one to help me.”

“You should have told them all to go to hell,” he muttered.

She gave him a sad smile. “Are you going to say that to your father when he tells you to reject Celia?”

He flinched and didn’t answer.

“Your father… part of what made him so bitter was that he was forced to reject his mate too. He still found ways to keep her around, along with plenty of others. None of it ever made him happy. It only hollowed him out.”

Lucas didn’t trust himself to speak.

Ophelia reached out, her fingers brushing his cheek. Her hand was cold and unsteady. “I love you, Lucas. I just don’t want to see you hurt.”

He pressed his lips together, resisting the urge to tell her that it was too late for that. That he had been hurt all along. Beaten by his father, abandoned by his mother in her haze of liquor, left to navigate resentment from a brother who had once shielded him.

It all hurt too much to say out loud.

He rose slowly. “I should get to bed. I’ve got a long day tomorrow.”

She pursed her lips and nodded. “Alright, baby. Get some rest.”

He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “Goodnight, Mom.”