I know why he did this. This way we will not be bound to only the summoning scent of the other. This way we can breathe and not be pulled into another situation as such. He is taking measures just so I am not forced by the bond.
He is blind, I am not forced by the bond. I touched him by my own will, on my own accord. It is him who is confused. But am I drawn to him merely because of the bond as he suggests? Or am I drawn to his soul and him as my mate and Kal’s father? The root of our trials has ended, a new light has shone upon us. There is nothing else that shackles him to his faults.
But there is one that constantly fights against the feelings of my heart. Our past. His choice, his betrayal. Now, that is a completely different thing. That lies in my hands, whether I choose to move past them or not. Whether the retribution he seeks shall be granted or not.
I watch him as he walks around the cabin steps heavy as his bare feet presses into the wood flooring which creaks and groans under his weight. He prepares everything so we can begin painting the room. He gathers the paintbrushes and the paint tins carrying them along. We had covered the entire floor of Kal’s potential playroom with sheets so this way we do not dirty it.
I barely do think of the past or the first two years of our bond, a lot has changed. I have changed and so has he. The lives of his wolves he took to bring down the tradition, the small ways he protects me, the kind of father he is to Kal makes me want to be swayed and bring my walls down. To bare my soul to him as he always is.
But what stops me is that fear, that uncertainty of the future. The pack always comes first, this is the law. I do not wish to be pulled into it once more, to be bound by another tradition they find to be with honour. It is torture for me and him equally.
I do not wish for Kal to have an unhappy family. I want to show him what it means to have parents who love and support each other wholeheartedly. Because he learns from us, we need to be good examples to him. I wish for him to learn the blessing of mates from us so he can carry that with him with pride towards his female.
I know that Deimos is nothing like his father, he has shown repeatedly he values something more than traditions and honour. More than succumbing to his true essence. He values Kal and me.
Love. Such a funny word. He had told me he did not know of the meaning when he claimed me as his. Has that changed? Or does it still lie the same? And what about me? Do I love him? I do not know. I possess no answers to these questions that merely pushes me into further uncertainty.
“Come inside, mate.” He mutters loudly from the other side requesting my presence. Lifting my weight from the kitchen counter I walk towards the open room. He is kneeled over the sheets opening up the paint tins placing them close to the small ladder. His jeans are loose on his hips as he keeps holding them up. He has lost weight, his face has sunk in eyes dim without light. His muscles seem lighter and his shirts do not fit tightly against his chest. His guilt weighs him down.
“What are we painting?” I question peering up at the blank white wall. It stands as a plain canvas waiting to hold a story. Deimos and I merely decided we would paint Kal’s room but we did not come to a conclusion as to what is to be painted.
“Whatever you wish, my female.” He says distracted with moving the furniture away that is blocking our path. This shall be a tedious job, but a fruitful one. When Kal is of age he shall know that this is his parent’s gift to him. He is our life, he is our male. We want to do everything for him, everything we never had growing up.
“Did you get to play, as a pup? Perhaps your own playroom?” I ask with curiosity. Deimos was second born, he must have been spoilt by his parents perhaps a little more than his brother.
“I was not allowed to play much, it was seen as something a future heir must not be occupied with. I did get to relax a little when Cronus and Theia came over to the castle. I did not have a playroom, but there was a training toom for my personal use.” He replies whilst striding towards me eyes glancing at the wall. With his hands on his hips, he peeks down at the paint tins perhaps thinking if we had enough.
“And what of Kal?” I ask him. I wish to know all of his plans towards our male, I know Deimos would never do anything I disliked but he will play a prominent role in Kal’s growth as an Alpha male of this pack.
“I would not be helping you to create a playroom for him if I had thought the same. He will be let to play and relax but he must train as well. He will start when he is three. You understand that yes?” He questions.
“Three? Deimos, that is too young! He needs to learn what it means to be a pup and live that life without the pressure of his reign.” I protest against his words. Pups of age three learn to read and write, not train.
“Kal is not like the other pups, mate. He needs to grow quicker than them, to fight and kill. To survive. I will not have him weak where he cannot defend himself. He is the next Alpha, he needs to be brought up as such. His title holds immense weight, he must learn to carry it with honour and pride.” Deimos declares his tone strong yet his voice is soothing and soft as he explains it to me.
“Did you start training at three?”
“Yes. My father was quite strict. I had to be perfect. The training starts easy and it grows harder with time. I will train him just as I train you. You shall train him as well with the knowledge you possess that I do not. Our duty is to protect him, to raise him into the best version of himself.” He says whilst sinking the paintbrushes into the water allowing the bristles to soften.
Kneeling upon the ground I help him with the task. “I understand.” Is all I say to him. I am simply not submitting to his words rather I acknowledge where he is coming from. It is the way of life and I trust him on this. I trust him with Kal.
“You remind me of my mother, so much I am baffled sometimes.” A sudden chuckle leaves his lips with a shake of his head. My eyes widen as I peer up at him, his words catch me off guard.
“How so?”
“She was strong and determined as you. She was a warrior, she wielded her power with honour and wolves looked up to her. She also had my father wrapped around her finger. She would have been so proud of you perhaps even guided me on the right path when I claimed you. She would have advised me that what I did to you was not the way you treat your moon blessed.” He speaks slowly voice tight and low as if he were ashamed to face me. His eyes do not meet mine no matter how much I search for them. This adds to the weight of his guilt, his shoulders sag with defeat.