I stood in the doorway, watching him.
I’d been a lot of things in my life. screw-up, smartass, the punchline of a hundred Beck family stories. But I’d never been a father, not until now. The mate bond had rewired my instincts, making every second of Bryce’s happiness worth more than any of the centuries behind me. My job wasn’t just to keep him safe.
It was to make sure he grew up in a world that wouldn’t break him for being different.
Even if that meant going to war with the world.
Krystal slipped her hand into mine, fingers lacing tight.
"Still worried?" she asked, lips brushing my ear.
"Always," I said.
But it was the best feeling in the world.
Chapter 24
Krystal
The next morningstarted too quiet for my taste. Bryce was up early, shuffling around the kitchen with his backpack on before I’d even had coffee. He didn’t look sick, but he didn’t look like the old Bryce either. There was a new weight to the way he moved. His shoulders hunched, his gaze fixed on the floor, fingers working a silent rhythm across the edge of the counter. I poured milk over a bowl of cereal, set it in front of him, and tried to pretend this was a normal day.
He poked at the cereal for a while. Zaden sat across from us, watching every move, but kept his commentary to himself. The mate bond buzzed like live wire between us. Zaden didn’t have to say the words. Something bad was coming. Even Bryce felt it. He kept glancing at the clock, tapping his spoon in anxious Morse code.
"Ready?" I asked.
He nodded, mouth full. I tousled his hair and checked his forehead. No fever, just the same clammy skin as always. It was like the magic had sucked all the color out of him.
Zaden drove us to the school. The ride was silent except for Bryce humming under his breath and the occasional crackle from the radio. When we pulled into the lot, he hesitated, hand on the buckle.
"You want me to walk in with you?"
Bryce thought about it, then shrugged. "Can I go by myself? I don’t want people to stare."
I exchanged a glance with Zaden. Even at nine, he knew how fast stories traveled in Stock Creek.
"Sure, bud. But if you feel bad, a headache, or anything, you go to the nurse, okay?"
He nodded but didn’t look back at us. He just slid out of the car and joined the river of kids flowing toward the side entrance.
I watched him slip inside, then reached out and squeezed Zaden’s hand. He squeezed back, no words, just that steady press of reassurance.
I should’ve known it would go off the rails before lunch. Bryce’s teacher called at ten, barely two hours into the day.
Her explanation was a tangle of teacher-speak and barely concealed panic. "I’m not sure what happened, but it’s worth noting that Bryce seemed agitated in math this morning. There were some disturbances. Fluorescent lights flickering, a couple popping. The other kids had been scared. He’s with the nurse now," the teacher added. "He’s saying he has a headache."
I thanked her, hung up, and slammed my palm on the kitchen counter hard enough that a coffee mug rattled.
Beside me, Zaden set down his cup, eyes narrowing.
I grabbed my bag, keys already in hand. "He’s in the nurse’s office."
The secretary in the front office recognized me on sight. She gave Zaden a quick once-over, then pasted on a smile. "Bryce is waiting with the nurse. Principal Givens wanted to meet with you as soon as possible."
She led us through the hall, quick-stepping us past the frosted glass of the main office and into a smaller room near the nurse’s station. There wasn’t even time for me to peek in on Bryce first.
Principal Givens and the guidance counselor, Ms. Halloway, who looked like she’d been mainlining caffeine since sunrise, were already seated at the conference table.
The principal rose and shook my hand. His palm was clammy, grip uncertain. "Thank you for coming so quickly, Mrs. Gallagher. Mr. Beck."
