Free Web NovelChapter 308: Chapter 308 I’m Proud Of You
Ezra
"Later," I say aloud, mostly to myself.
"What?" she asks.
"Nothing," I say, which is exactly the problem. We clean the table, rinse the mugs, and wipe the counter. I pack the kit, leave two spare strips on the table in case she needs them, and take the pouch back. At the door, I turn.
"I’ll be behind the second row," I say. "If you need out, catch my eye." freewebnovel.cσ๓
"I know," she says. "Thank you."
I head for the lawn.
The after-ceremony circle is already forming when I step into the lights. Mother smiles and doesn’t ask where I’ve been. She relays a list of who needs hellos and who needs watching with the precision of someone who has carried three sons and a whole pack through too many nights like this. Ethan stands to her left, posture precise, face calm. Father holds the microphone for a last word about legacy as Elijah lurks at the edge of the line like he’s trying to split himself into two people and be in both places at once, the tilt of his mouth says he found her and he’s set for now.
I slide into the place Mother wants me. My phone buzzes with a message from Daniel.
Daniel; Perimeter clear. Darius’ retreat confirmed.
I send him a thumbs-up and pocket the device. "That color suits you," a voice on my shoulder says. freewёbn૦νeɭ.com
Lizzy steps into my field and offers a practiced smile, red dress catching the light just enough to be noticed. She touches my jacket sleeve with two fingers like we’re already comfortable.
"Evening," I say, aiming for politeness and landing dead center.
"Your father asked me to say hello," she says. "He said the three of you would be busy, but he wanted you to know he appreciates our families making time for each other."
"He does," I say, which is true and says nothing.
She studies my face the way people study a route they’ve memorized. "I hear you had an incident near the falls."
"We handled it," I say.
"With finesse, I’m sure," she says, tone light, gaze not. "I’m glad you and your brothers are careful about the company you keep in the woods." I feel the line under the words and it is not subtle.
’Say it,’ Damon says. ’Say her name and end this.’
A camera flash pops from the edge of the crowd. Father turns his head just enough to clock my angle with Lizzy and then looks away, satisfied to let the photograph do work he doesn’t want to do out loud.
I keep my voice even. "We keep our patrols clean," I say. "That’s the whole job."
She shifts half an inch closer. "You’ve always been the reasonable one," she says, soft enough that the recorder on the mic stand won’t pick it up. "You understand optics. It’s useful."
Across the lawn, near the last row of chairs, Allison moves along the shadow line with Daniel at her elbow. She stops in a pocket of darkness and watches the stage. She doesn’t look at me, she doesn’t have to, I know she can see the angle from here. I also know what it looks like.
"Excuse me," I tell Lizzy. "My mother needs me."
I don’t wait for permission as I step to my mother’s side and ask for the list of the next three hellos. She gives them and touches my sleeve in silent thanks for bailing out of a conversation she doesn’t trust. Father finishes his speech, hands the mic to the PR lead, and descends the steps to wade into greetings.
Allison doesn’t move from the shadows.
The next fifteen minutes are easy and brutal in equal measure. I shake hands, answer questions, smile for two photos I don’t want, and operate like a man who knows where all the cameras sit. Mindlink pings through in short bursts.
’North path clear,’ Fallon sends; ’Media wrap in five,’ PR confirms.
Lizzy reappears twice, always at the edge of my field, always when another Alpha is watching. I don’t invite it but I also don’t stop it. That is the line I’m still trying to erase, and I don’t do it tonight.
’You are letting silence speak for you,’ Damon says. ’And it’s not saying what you mean.’
I give a noncommittal smile to a councilor who makes a fox joke he thinks is clever and marks his name for the day I have the patience to make sure he never sits a vote I care about. When the PR lead calls for a final round of photos, I take my mark with my brothers. Elijah stands at my right, jaw tight. Ethan’s tie is still straight and father positions us with one hand and looks at the crowd like he’s assessing a ledger. The flash goes and my phone vibrates, two messages in quick succession.
Daniel; She’s heading home along the treeline. I’ll walk her to the cottages.
Allison; Tell your mother her dress is perfect. And the light on the steps was smart.
I type back, I will. Then I open a new thread to her, because I hate how the last one looks, the half-typed word still echoing in the back of my head. My thumbs move again.
Me; Proud of you.
I stare, it’s not enough, but it’s also honest.
’Add the word,’ Damon says. ’Or don’t pretend you meant it.’
I hover over the keyboard. The camera flash goes again and father claps my shoulder. People cheer in that tidy way they cheer at ceremonies.
I lock my phone and pocket it. I’ll say it when I can stand in the room that will try to make the word cost her, not me.
We break ranks. The crowd dissolves into small knots and mother touches my arm. "Did you eat?" she asks.
"Not yet," I say.
"Fix that, and then sleep," she says, no argument in it.
"Yes, ma’am."
I step off the lawn and into the softer light along the hedges. The noise drops a notch and I breathe the night air and make myself hold the thought I’ve been dodging since the clearing.
What I allowed tonight was small. A touch on my sleeve from someone I won’t choose and a silence that told a story I don’t believe. A text I didn’t send, a word I kept because I wanted to be brave on a day when being brave wouldn’t have cost us a fight we can’t win yet. Small things accumulate, I know that but I’ve built too many good things out of small choices to pretend it only works one way.
’Fix it,’ Damon says. ’Start with one word.’
"I will," I say, out loud to no one. "Soon."
I head for the house. There are training schedules to look over, a patrol roster to adjust after Darius, and a drone pass to add on the south ridge. There’s a clip to send Allison before I talk myself into waiting. I open my phone, attach the file, and type:
Me; Mirror pivot off sweep, look at your left foot at; 14. You set him up. It was clean.
I add one more line, the one I can live with tonight; I’m proud of you.
This time I hit send.
