"Tell me," I said softly, reaching out to touch his arm through the blanket. "The real story. Not the charming version you tell at parties." He laughed, but there was no humor in it. Just a hollow, bitter sound that made my chest ache.
"The real story." He looked away, out at the snow-covered valley, his jaw tight. "You want to know about how David Harper knocked up some waitress at a bar when he was twenty-six and didn't even know I existed until I was eight years old?"
I didn't say anything. Just waited, my hand still on his arm, a silent encouragement to continue.
"My mom was... she wasn't a bad person," Leo said, his voice distant, lost in memory. "Just young and stupid and completely unprepared to be a mother. She was twenty when she had me. Twenty years old, no money, no family support, no idea who my father even was beyond 'some rich guy she met at a bar.'"
He reached for the flask again, took another long drink. When he spoke again, his voice was rough.
"She did her best for a while. Worked double shifts, kept a roof over our heads. But she was barely more than a kid herself, and I was... difficult. Angry. Acting out. By the time I was seven, she was at the end of her rope."
"What happened?" I asked quietly, my fingers tightening on his arm.
"She tracked him down." A bitter smile twisted his lips. "Took her months of digging, but she finally figured out who my father was. David Harper. One of the most powerful men in the state. Father of the year material."
"She told him about you?" I asked, trying to imagine the scene, the courage it must have taken.
"Showed up at his office with me in tow and a paternity test in her purse." Leo shook his head, something between admiration and resentment flickering across his features. "I'll give her credit — she had balls. Walked right past his security,plopped me down in a chair, and said 'This is your son. I can't do this anymore. Your turn.'"
I tried to imagine it. An eight-year-old Leo, angry and confused, sitting in some corporate office while his mother handed him over to a stranger.
"What did David do?" I asked, dreading the answer but needing to know.
"What do you think?" Leo's laugh was sharp, jagged, cutting through the cold air. "He had the test run. When it came back positive, he wrote my mom a check, had his lawyers draw up custody papers, and that was that. One day I was living in a two-bedroom apartment in a shitty part of town, the next I was in a mansion with brothers I'd never met and a father who looked at me like I was a problem to be solved."
"Leo..." I breathed, my heart breaking for the boy he'd been, my hand tightening on his arm.
"Don't." He cut me off, his voice sharp, then softened as he saw my expression. "Don't feel sorry for me. I had it better than most. Private schools, fancy clothes, all the money I could ever want. Poor little rich boy, right?"
"Money doesn't make up for feeling like you don't belong," I said quietly, my thumb stroking absently over his sleeve. He went very still beside me. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, raw and exposed.
"No. It doesn't." The silence stretched between us, heavy with unspoken things. I could feel the tension in his body, the effort it was taking him to keep the mask from crumbling completely.
"Mason was ten when I showed up," Leo continued eventually, his voice steadier now, like he'd found his footing again. "Just a kid himself, but already trying to be the responsible one. The golden child in training. He didn't know what to do with me — none of us knew what to do with each other."
"What about Ethan?" I asked, leaning into him slightly, offering warmth and presence.
"Ethan was nine. Quiet. Serious. Already had his nose buried in books half the time, trying to prove he was smart enough to matter." A hint of fondness crept into his voice despite the bitterness, his lips quirking slightly. "We were both outsiders in our own ways — him with his Beta mom drama, me with my... everything. But we didn't know how to connect back then. Too young, too angry, too busy fighting for scraps of David's attention."
"And Caleb?" I asked softly, remembering the gentle giant who'd shown me his carvings.
"Caleb came later." Leo's expression softened slightly, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. "He didn't move in until I was fifteen. His mom got sick, couldn't take care of him anymore. By then I'd already spent seven years trying to find my place in that family. When Caleb showed up, I remembered what it felt like to be the new kid. The one everyone looks at like they're not sure you belong."
"So you looked out for him?" I asked, a new picture of Leo forming in my mind, not just the charming troublemaker, but someone who understood pain and tried to ease it in others.
"Tried to." A ghost of a genuine smile crossed his face, warming his features. "Kid was massive even at fourteen, but shy as hell. Barely talked, still doesn't talk much. I made it my mission to drag him out of his shell. Probably annoyed the shit out of him, but..." He shrugged, his shoulder brushing against mine. "Someone had to make him feel welcome. I knew what it was like when no one did."
He paused, his hazel eyes going distant. "And then about seven months later, you and your mom moved in. Suddenly there was this ten-year-old running around the estate, asking questions, getting into everything. Caleb was still adjusting, andthen there you were, this little ball of chaos who wasn't scared of any of us."
"I didn't know to be scared," I admitted quietly, remembering those early days, the wonder of the big house and the interesting boys who lived there.
"Exactly." His smile turned wistful, his eyes focusing on something far away. "You just... saw people. Not Harpers, not Alphas, not threats. Just people. Caleb started coming out of his shell because of you. You'd sit with him while he carved, chattering away about nothing, and he'd just... relax. It was the first time I'd seen him actually comfortable."
"And David?" I asked, though part of me already knew the answer from the bitterness that crept into his voice whenever he mentioned his father.
The smile vanished. "David treated me like an investment. Made sure I had the best education, the best training, the best everything. But actually being a father?" He shook his head, his jaw tightening. "That wasn't really his thing. He had Mason for the heir apparent stuff. I was just... extra. A loose end he'd tied up."
"That's not true," I said, even though I didn't know if it was or wasn't, my hand finding his under the blanket.
