It was evident at dinner that Clayton disliked me, maybe even as much as his hate for my father. From the glares across the table to not hearing my request for the dinner rolls on the table, it just felt like an awkward family dinner with me as their unwanted guest. After Arthur had explained a few things, I couldn’t help but want to know more. Even if it meant having to deal with Clayton glaring daggers at me during the entire meal. 

“So about my father and his mate—”

“So, unmated?” Clayton interrupted, turning to me, his fork pointed in my direction, a smirk rivaling Michael’s plastered on his face. “Your mate?”

“We’re not mated,” I faltered. “We—I pushed him away so he’d be happy. Before we could commit to anything he’d regret.”

“I’m sure he’s very special to you, to have done that,” Clayton remarked with a sly smile on his face. 

“He is—was.” I wasn’t sure what to say. Clayton smirked against the glass he raised and I resisted the urge to say something snarky. “And, I know what I did.”

“All that.” He commented. “It’s quite a lot.”

“Clay,” Arthur warned. “Enough.”

“Just saying,” he quipped before going back to picking at his food.

“I hurt him, I know that,” I admitted. “I do. In more ways than I can count, in ways that no one should tolerate from their mate or from anyone in general. In ways that give me no right to feel this way. To feel like there’s something still there, with the bond and all.”

Clayton made a face that earned a pinch from Arthur, going back to eating like we weren’t there.

“You still care for him,” Arthur said aloud finally, not even sparing a glance in my direction. “Yearn to be by his side, even if it feels wrong because of what others say or what you think.”

In some weird way this felt like a therapy session with Chase, yet Arthur’s words were laced with something Chase had lacked; empathy. Arthur seemed to understand the feeling on an incredibly personal level. I wasn’t sure what it was, the way Arthur seemed to be someone I could feel I trust with whatever I had on my mind. 

Even acknowledging his words as the truth felt wrong, though. Even though Chase had brought that to my attention a few months ago, my sentiment on that statement, on announcing what I felt, the wants, desires, and longing felt like a crime in of itself. I spent months, years convincing myself that I wasn’t worth that luxury, and wasn't deserving of those complicated feelings of want. Especially when it came to him.

Yet, I did. I wanted to feel that brief moment where we felt comfortable with each other again, where things felt almost normal between us. Where we had simply let go of whatever inhibitions we had. From the kisses, to the hand-holding, even to simply just waking up next to each other.

I couldn’t say it, admit it out loud, but I nodded; not even sure that Arthur or the others could see my response. 

Clayton scoffed at my response but Arthur shot him another warning glare. 

“It’s absurd, I know. I don’t deserve him, or the chances he took on me. And I know what it looks like, like I’m just like my father, even worse for what I put him through, and I just have to live with that.” It was as though the water was actually tainted with booze, the lack of filter I had. Or maybe it was that these two had seen what my father did, had heard of what I did, making it easier to just talk about it without the shock factor. 

Sucking in a breath, I couldn’t face them, instead staring intensely at the tablecloth in front of me. My hands fiddled with the napkin on my lap as I tried to still my breathing. 

“Though I don’t think I could possibly know what my father’s mate went through,” I paused, my fingers clenching the napkin in my lap tighter. “I want to believe Simon’s happier, and has gotten the happy ending he deserves, away from me and all this drama. It’s better this way.”

“Is it?” Arthur’s response was quick, his eyes piercing through me. 

“I—”

From here, I could see the way his jaw tensed. “To be away from your true mate, knowing the bond will still pull you together no matter how much you try to love someone else.”

Arthur’s words felt like a slap to the face. Deep down I knew he was speaking the truth, staying apart from each other was literally undoing what the goddess wanted. But in the brief time together, it just felt like two magnets repelling each other, it must’ve been better this way. 

“I-I’m sure it’s better than forcing something that was already broken from the start,” I fired back. “Sometimes, you just can’t have the things you want.”

Arthur sighed before looking at me intently, a weird, yet comforting glint in his eyes. “That may be true. But you’re not broken, Vince.”

“Well, you knew my father, you know what I did; I’m incapable of all that love and mates shit anyways.” I looked away, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. It was always like this; try to be honest about everything and people give me this false sense of comfort, assuring me that everything was fine. But, it wasn’t. He was starting to sound like Chase when he went on about his psychological shit again. “It’s all pointless.”

“I knew your mother well too Vince. You’re not incapable of it. If anything she had the biggest heart of anyone I’ve met,” he contended. 

I scoffed, setting the napkin on the table. “Yeah and my father ate it up and tore it to pieces. Just like I stomped on Simon’s.”

“Her blood runs in your veins too. The fact you regret your past is already worlds better than what your father was like. It’s not pointless to chase after what it is you want, it turned out fine for us.” He tilted his head in Clayton’s direction. 

“Yet I can’t change what I did. Nothing could fix that,” I spat. “You should know that. You’ve seen what my father did, I followed his exact footsteps, and ruined his life. There’s no going back from that. Besides, I decided this was best, us going our own way; he doesn’t need all this drama. It won’t change the things I’ve said and done, anyways. I can’t undo all the damage I caused.”

“It won’t, but you can change how that regret dictates your life. Either run from all the chances that you’re offered or learn to accept it and cherish it the way you should’ve. You don’t have to push things away anymore. You don’t have to deny yourself the acceptance and love you wanted.”

“Like it’s that simple,” I said sternly. 

He ran a hand through his hair as he glanced at Clayton, whose expression remained cold, silently judging our conversation, no doubt. He didn’t say anything, whether out of respect, or at Arthur’s request, I wasn’t sure. Arthur turned back to look at me with the same look from earlier. “It’s not simple, but it’s worth it. And so are you. You deserve to chase after what you want, no matter what you or anyone tells you. Your father ran from this, ran from it all, you don’t have to be like him anymore. You aren’t like him.”

Clenching my jaw, I gritted under my breath. “Whatever, it’s not like he’d willingly come back to suffer through this shit again.”

Whether he heard me or not, Arthur turned ever so slightly to Clayton. As if sending a telepathic message, Clayton nodded.

“I’d say that I can relate to you, and to your mate’s situation. I know what it’s like to feel the way he once did, to feel abandoned, hurt in ways that mates shouldn’t be hurt.” He squeezed Clayton’s hand in his. “But, of course, Clayton would argue that I too had been too forgiving in the past, had let things slip past me in the sake of the mate bond. And I can see that you are different. You’ve acknowledged his pain—granted, may never fully understand it—but you know your faults, know what you did wrong, and I can see that you’re trying to make things right. You’re better than him—your father.”

“After all, that boy in the portrait you saw,” he continued, before glancing at Clayton. “The heir of our founding Alpha and Luna is me. Or in other words, your father’s mate.”

My jaw dropped in sync with my heart. It was like a suckerpunch to the gut, one I certainly hadn’t expected. I had expected maybe he was related to his mate, but not actually my father’s mate. All the things he had mentioned, the subtle remarks were dawning on me. My father had been mates with him, rejected him, and nearly started a massacre because of it. The pain he must’ve gone through, the photos and letters, even faking your own death?

My father rejected the ideals of a peaceful and accepting pack, all for what? And to think it had been decades since he died, how had Arthur been fine all these years, even married to Clayton with a broken bond and all. To say my mind was swirling with questions was an understatement.

“But you two—”

“Indeed, Clayton and I are happily married, not mates at all.” Arthur glanced at the alpha beside him as Clayton reached over to pat the back of his hand. “It appears we have a lot of explaining to do. Ask away.”