Page 18 of Take Two (Valleywood: Season Three)
Chapter 18
Declan
I hadn’t been able to sleep since Phobos dashed off.
The number of times I’d considered calling, texting, or driving over there I couldn’t count.
The new bed and bedding arrived, and as Phobos had paid extra to have it assembled, I spent a sleepless night in luxury, my head on a pillow so fluffy the fae word gossamer was the perfect description. Sheets with a high thread count surrounded me like a hug while I snuggled into a quilt cocooning me.
But none of those qualities soothed my mind as I lay awake, worried about my mate.
Unable to sleep, I went downstairs to the bar, still clad in my PJs and robe. I shivered because I always turned the heat off here at the end of the night to save money.
Should have brought a blanket. Or that quilt. My wolf had slept all night, unconcerned about my mate because we were mated and he was a god.
I stumbled around, unsure of what I was doing. There were a few empty boxes in the office where the cases of beer were stored, so I trudged out back to the recycling bin. It was still dark and so damned cold, but it was only a few steps from the back door to the container.
But a scent assaulted me. Father’s! It was too strong to be a remnant of when he was last here. I steeled myself with one hand on the door. A shadow loomed in the darkness, and my belly twisted, not in fear but irritation. Rage wasn’t too strong a word. He never gave me agency to live my own life. It was his version or nothing.
We could stay outside and freeze or I could let him in. If I raced inside and locked the door, his wolf could break it down. May as well avoid damaging the building.
“If you thought arriving in the dark would give you an advantage, you’re wrong.” I walked behind the counter, wanting to keep a distance from him, and flicked on a light.
He’d grown older which wasn’t a surprise. That was how life was supposed to be, though when the universe planned it, age was supposed to be accompanied by wisdom. Father had not learned a thing about me and was as stubborn and full of hate as the day I killed my omega dad.
“What do you want?” I took out two cans of soda water and shoved one at him. He sat on a stool and pulled the tab, the sharp pop more distinct than usual in the empty room.
I gulped half my can, droplets plopping onto my robe. The temperature was the same as when I came downstairs because I hadn’t turned on the heat, but perhaps my resentment was fueling the warmth inside me. If so, it was about to ignite and combust in an inferno.
“I came to talk sense into you.” He studied the writing on the can and twisted it in his hand.
“You can’t. Your reign over me is dunzo. I’ve removed myself from your clutches and you have no more power.”
“Declan.”
Yanking at my robe and PJ top, I leaned forward, ensuring he couldn’t miss identifying the mating mark at the base of my throat. “Mated. To the one the universe put on this earth for me.”
While I didn’t understand the repercussions of whatever Apate had done to my mate, it didn’t void our mating. Unless he died, but that wasn’t happening because I’d track down the goddess myself and have her reverse her spell.
My wolf piped up. I’ll do it for you .
“I’ve failed in my duty to you.” His shoulders slumped, and the small bags under his eyes became more prominent and grayish. I swore he aged ten years in those few seconds.
“No. I’ve chosen the path that the universe laid out.” I could have swerved and chosen a different direction, which I’d been considering when Phobos was being an ass.
“You’re my son, my only child, and yet you’re a fool, Declan.” He crumpled the empty can, the cracking reminding me of our fractured relationship.
“For believing in and trusting love?” He’d never recovered from my omega dad’s death. My whole life, a veil had been pulled over his eyes, blinding him to beauty, happiness, and his son’s love.
“I mated the love of my life.” He had a faraway look in his eyes as if he was dredging up memories of when he had allowed happiness into his heart. “Your dad was the kindest man I’ve ever known, and we were so looking forward to your birth. He would have been an amazing father.”
“He was. He carried me for nine months and brought me into the world.” Perhaps in those last moments, he’d begged Father to take care of me. If he was sitting beside the gods and goddesses looking down at us, he must despair at Father’s hostility toward me.
“Don’t you see? Love makes you weak and vulnerable. It pretends the world is good and fair and kind. And then it snatches that happiness away, leaving a hole inside you that will never be filled.”
I’d always viewed his attitude to life as one that focused on me because I was the cause of his terrible loss. I was the one responsible for Dad’s death. But his speech gave me an inkling of how he couldn’t overcome his despair and was unable to get past it and shower me with love.
For the first time, I experienced a stab of regret. Yes, Father was the adult and it was his responsibility to look after me despite his loss. Some people could do that, but Father hadn’t. My dad must have been the center of his world.
“Do you understand why I wanted you mated to someone you could never love? Or at least he wasn’t your fate?”
I never had until now, and I kinda knew what he was about to say.
“Because if love wasn’t present, you would never experience the blinding pain of losing him. Your heart would remain intact when he died, and if you had children, you’d be able to continue living and also loving them as a devoted father should.”
He put his head in his hands and sobbed.
What’s he doing? My wolf had never witnessed Father crying.
Unsure how to respond, I edged my fingers toward him and brushed them over his arm. He grabbed them so tightly, he cut off the flow of blood. We stayed like that until he loosened his grip, and I removed my hand and gave him a napkin to wipe away the tears.
We weren’t buddies. Him breaking down didn’t undo the hurt, but it gave me a glimpse of the hell he’d been in, and now that the wall he’d erected around himself had crumbled just a tad, maybe there was hope for a better relationship going forward. Not that I was expecting miracles.
“My mate’s a god.”
A flicker of a smile appeared on Father’s face as he raised his head. “All newly mated couples think that, Son.”
Typical of Father to think like that, but after running the sentence over in my head, it occurred to me he was right.
“No, he’s a literal god.” I waved my arms around, soaring and dipping and acting more like a bird or a dragon shifter than a god. Having never seen my mate flitting yards above the ground, I had no clue what he looked like. But my father had never met a god previously. Or perhaps he had and he’d asked them to bring my dad back from the dead. Just as well he’d never encountered Apate or she might have promised him something and fallen short. I shivered, imagining Dad returning as a zombie.
I’d held back that my mate was a god of fear because that would bring up awkward questions about our relationship and whether Phobos would be the cause of the next world war.
“A god. Hmmm, I guess he won’t disappear on you, being, you know, godlike and ever-present.” He glanced around. “So where is he? Please don’t tell me he’s agreed to live above a bar.”
“He had an emergency, as gods do.”
“Let’s hope the world isn’t ending, just as we’ve made a small breakthrough.”
Did Father make a joke? I refused to be drawn into a trap of forgiving him. He’d treated me abominably. But not having the hatred nestled inside me, ready to flare up the next time we met or spoke, would perhaps alter my outlook on life.
Now if only Phobos could recover from whatever Apate had inflicted on him, we could look forward to the future.
Father got off the stool, saying he had to be going. “There’s a shifter council meeting I’m chairing this afternoon.” I offered to make him coffee, and he said he’d take one for the road.
After he left, I went upstairs, phone in hand, hoping my mate hadn’t disappeared for good while Father and I were bonding.