Kaden’s chest twisted as he listened to his mother. He slowly reached towards her wrist, careful not to scare her. Estelle flinched but didn’t pull away.
"I can’t do this anymore," she whispered. "Just leave me. I don’t want you seeing me like this. I’ve spent my whole life pretending I was strong enough to handle everything, but I’m tired, Kaden. I’m so tired."
"You don’t have to pretend with me," he said, his voice coming out weaker than normal. The arrogant Alpha was genuinely bewildered about how to handle a suicidal mother.
"I failed," she cried. "I failed as a wife, and I failed as a mother."
Kaden’s chest tightened painfully. "Don’t say that," he pleaded, but Estelle thought otherwise. "I did," she said in a weak voice, as though it were decided.
"You didn’t fail," Kaden argued, still trying to convince her, but Estelle’s mind was made up.
"I lost everything," she screamed, tears rolling down her cheeks. He badly wanted to pull her into a hug to prove otherwise. To hold her like she had when he was little, but he was too scared to touch her, and all he could say was, "You still have us."
Maybe those words finally reached her; her fingers loosened slightly around the dagger. Kaden seized the opportunity. His hand closed around her wrist, and with gentle but firm pressure, he pried her fingers away from the weapon. The silver dagger slipped from her hand and landed against the tiled floor with a sharp clang.
Before she could react, Kaden pulled her into his arms. Estelle’s wet body trembled against his chest. For several seconds, she fought the embrace weakly before her strength disappeared. A sob tore from her throat, and she buried her face against him. The damp fabric of her clothes pressed cold against his skin, and the metallic scent of blood mixed with the faint trace of her usual perfume.
"You aren’t a failure, Mum," Kaden murmured, holding her tightly. "You hear me? You aren’t a failure."
His other hand closed around her injured wrist. Warmth spread from his palm as his healing ability flowed into the shallow cut, sealing the bleeding skin. It was a silver blade wound, which interfered with werewolves’ natural healing abilities. He felt the faint tremor in her pulse begin to steady beneath his fingers.
"You still have us," he repeated, his voice thick with emotion. "You have me. You have your sons. We aren’t going anywhere."
A choked laugh escaped Estelle, but it quickly turned into another sob.
"How am I not a failure?" she whispered against his chest. "I lost everything, and now even my sons might get tainted by them." She repeated the words again. It sounded unbearable.
Kaden’s arms tightened around her. "They won’t." His jaw clenched. He understood what she meant.
"You don’t know that. She got your father. A rejection doesn’t change the fact that she is a vixen..." She left some words unsaid, but he understood. She was scared of Yuki having them after she lost her husband to Aevia.
"I do," he insisted. "Whatever happens, none of us are going to let anyone destroy this family." He swore with conviction.
Estelle shook her head against him, her tears soaking through his shirt. "I hate him," she whispered.
Kaden closed his eyes.
"I hate him as much as I love him," she continued, her voice cracking. "I wish I could stop loving him. I wish I could forget everything. I wish they would all suffer for what they’ve done to me."
Kaden said nothing. He didn’t know what to say. All he could do was hold her while she cried. He hated his father for reducing the woman who had once filled every room with her laughter to this trembling figure in his arms. He hated Aevia for becoming part of the wound, even if he had no proof she was responsible for the package. Most of all, he hated the helplessness that clawed at his chest because there was nothing he could say that would erase what his mother had endured.
Estelle cried until her throat became hoarse. Eventually, her sobs weakened into uneven breaths. Her fingers remained curled into Kaden’s shirt as though she needed something solid to keep herself from falling apart again.
Then, after a long silence, she lifted her head.
"Kaden," she whispered.
He looked down at her immediately. "I’m here."
Her eyes were swollen and red, but there was something firmer beneath the pain now.
"Promise me something," she asked.
Kaden’s brows drew together. "Anything."
Estelle swallowed, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don’t let her win." She asked, clutching her chest. His chest felt heavy at those words, and he reluctantly nodded.
********
The alcohol burned down Kaden’s throat as he swallowed another mouthful. He lowered the glass onto the counter with a quiet clink, his fingers lingering around it for a moment before he loosened his grip.
He looked like a complete mess.
Hours had passed since he had managed to get Estelle to sleep. She had finally exhausted herself after crying until her body could no longer keep up with her emotions. Kaden had stayed beside her until her breathing evened out, unwilling to leave her alone after what had happened. Only when he was certain she was asleep had he slipped downstairs and poured himself a drink.
Now the silence gave his thoughts room to become louder.
His fingers tightened around the glass as the memory of Estelle standing in the bathroom returned. Her soaked clothes. The blood on her wrist. The silver dagger pressed against her throat. The look in her eyes when she had told him she wanted to die.
His jaw tightened.
Then there was the wedding.
Alexander and Aevia would be married in a matter of days. Every conversation about the ceremony seemed to scrape against the wound his mother had spent months trying to hide. Kaden had thought he was angry because of his father. He had thought he was angry because of Aevia.
But there was something else. His mind unwillingly returned to the kiss.
Kaden stared into the amber liquid in his glass, watching the light tremble across its surface. He had kissed her. He had even kissed her harder when every instinct inside him had been screaming to stop.
Yet nothing had felt right.
He swallowed another mouthful, but the alcohol did little to dull the memory. The warmth of Eloise’s body against his. Her hands gripping his shirt. The way she had responded to him and the complete emptiness inside him.
Kaden’s brows pulled together.
He had loved Eloise for years. At least, he had always believed he did. She had been the woman he had chosen, the woman he had expected to spend his life with. So why had touching her suddenly felt wrong?
His grip tightened until his knuckles whitened.
"Fuck," he muttered under his breath.
Fear settled somewhere beneath his anger. Not fear of Eloise, but fear of what his own reaction meant.
Before he could sink any deeper into the thought, the quiet creak of the door pulled his attention towards the entrance. A long shadow stretched across the wooden floor before the person even stepped fully into the room.
Kaden didn’t need to look. He knew that presence.
"From the look of things, I can guess she was a complete wreck," a calm voice remarked.
Kaden lowered his glass and placed it beside him with a quiet clink. He didn’t turn around. "You’re late," he said flatly.
Killian stepped into the bar, his jacket draped over one arm. His tie had been loosened, and exhaustion sat heavily across his features. He looked like someone who had spent the entire day dealing with problems and had no intention of collecting another one.
"I couldn’t get out early," Killian admitted with a tired sigh as he approached. "How is she?"
"She’s asleep," Kaden replied, staring at the glass in his hand. He rotated it between his fingers, watching the alcohol slide along the sides. "The wedding is messing with her."
Killian’s expression shifted. He didn’t need further explanation. They both knew exactly whose wedding Kaden meant.
His footsteps slowed as he came closer. "She saw something?"
"Pictures." Kaden’s voice remained strangely calm. "Someone sent her photographs of the preparations. How much effort our dear father is putting into marrying his mistress."
Killian’s jaw tightened. "Who?"
"I don’t know." Kaden finally lifted his gaze. "But whoever sent them knew exactly what they were doing."
Killian remained silent for a moment before pulling out a stool beside him. Kaden returned his attention to the drink.
The silence stretched.
Killian watched him carefully. There was something different about Kaden tonight. Usually, even when furious, he was sharp and restless, always ready to lash out at anyone who crossed his path. Tonight, he seemed almost unnaturally still.
Kaden took another sip. Then he asked quietly, "Do you think we made a mistake?"
Killian’s footsteps stopped completely.
"Was rejecting her the right call?"
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