“Okay, Dad,” I relent with a sigh as I follow him down the corridor to the dining room. It's almost as if he's trying to make up for how he badgered me last night, with the cutlery set up so perfectly.
We take our seats, and I stack my plate with pancakes, basking in the little pleasure that reminds me of my childhood when I wasn't alone.
When I wasn't the only child, I had someone to look up to.
“You're thinking about him, aren't you?” Father sighs as he picks up another pancake and lays it on his plate. “Tyson, I mean.”
My fingers freeze around my fork, and I look up slowly.
“Father, I—”
“You don't have to hide it, Tyler,” Father assures me with a half-smile. “I often think about your brother, too. There's no shame in it.”
I gulp hard, bashfully keeping my eyes lowered. The real shame comes from having to fill the shoes of an older brother who died while he was on his black ops missions. Ever since I returned unscathed, I'd been plummeting into the role of alpha that Tyson would have filled if he survived out there. Coming home was a reminder that bearing the weight he left behind would be overwhelming, and I've been hanging on by a thread trying to keep my head above the water.
Taking a deep breath, I bite into my first pancake, chewing loudly enough to let my father know that this is a conversation I don't want to have. It's enough that I've been so busy these past few months; I don't need another burden on my plate.
Father clears his throat and returns to his meal. “I've set up a meeting with the alpha of Bloodclaw. They're about to go through their trials to determine who the next alpha will be, and he'd like you to attend the meeting before the trials begin.”
I nod thoughtfully as I gulp. We're back to talking business, and while I would rather have a moment of peace, I'm just glad we're not talking about Tyson anymore.
“One of the participants in the trials is a friend of mine,” I inform my father. “Hunter, from black ops. He stands a good chance of winning.”
“Which is why I've secured an alliance with Bloodclaw. They're a strong pack, even if the alpha didn't have a son to take over.”
“It's a good thing I'm going to this meeting, then. I'll get some pointers about the trials. It will come in handy when it's time for me to choose a successor.”
Father places his fork down with a deliberate clink. “So does that mean you won't have a son of your own? An heir to take over as alpha when you retire?”
I sigh heavily and look up. “I told you already, Father, I won't be taking a mate. I won't have a son, either. We'll have to—”
Father cuts me off by slamming a palm on the table. “No, Tyler!” The council will not—”
Feeling rage bubbling deep within, I rise from my seat and glare at my father. “I do not care what the council thinks. I am the alpha of this pack, and what I say goes.”
Father sighs defeatedly and lowers his head. “It's not that simple, Tyler. The Moonshine Pack has been run this way for decades. We cannot simply change the rules. If Tyson—”
“Yeah, I know,” I abruptly cut my father off. “If Tyson were still alive, you wouldn't have to tell him twice. But he's not alive anymore, and that's why the only thing I care about is protecting our pack so that no one else dies.”
“That's not what I was going to say…” Father mumbles, staring blankly ahead, but I'm too infuriated to care.
“Well, I'm pretty sure you were gonna say how Tyson would have made you prouder, right? He'd have followed all the rules, right?” I scoff, throwing my hands up in defeat. “But the mate bond isn't just something to follow to appease the council. It's my personal life, and I refuse it.”
With that, I spin on my heel and march out of my house, basking in the coolness of the outside air only momentarily. My relief is short-lived when my beta reminds me of yet another meeting, and my fists curl at my sides as I'm hauled back into my duties without rest.
***
Dragging my feet back home, my shoulders are slumped over, my head hanging with exhaustion. I can't seem to catch a break, just as much as I can't seem to avoid my father's insistence that I take a mate.
It's an ancient ruling in the Moonshine Pack that no alpha should be left unmated, to ensure that an heir is born to take the mantle. For my father, that was supposed to be Tyson, until he was killed.
As if to remind me of the grief that I'd been pushing aside, I pass by the graveyard where my brother's body lies. With a grievous sigh, I trudge ahead until I find myself standing in front of my older brother's tombstone.
Tyson Whitlock.
A name I can barely speak without a lump forming in my throat. Even now, as I read his name carved in stone, the weightof his death five years ago brings me to my knees, collapsing forward as I grab the tombstone to steady myself.
“Why did you leave me with this burden?” I choke as I lift my face, my eyes meeting his name as if it will respond to me. When his squad carried his lifeless body back to Portland, I held back the tears that sprang to the surface now, knowing back then that I'd have to step up and take his place.
