I was overwhelmed by guilt as I walked away. It wasn't an easy job to be the one who didn't follow all the rules of the family. My feet carried me down the dim hallway leading to a quieter wing of the house, where no heated arguments or ego-laden conversations could reach.
This part of the pack house always felt like it belonged to a different world. It harbored my father's gravest secrets. He'd keep it away, far away from his view as though, they could erase the evil he had done.
I stopped at a familiar door. The dark wood was polished to a sheen, but the scratches near the handle reminded me of another story—moments of frustration, helplessness, or perhaps just time wearing away at its surface. I pushed it open quietly.
The room smelled faintly of antiseptic, mixed with a little hint of lavender from the fresh flowers someone—probably my mother—had placed on the windowsill. The curtains were drawn halfway, allowing a stream of pale light to filter in.
In the corner, sitting in a wheelchair, was Luis—my cousin. Or what was left of him.
Luis had once been the brightest light in this house. Back then when we were both just boys who loved to watch their fathers be sons of a powerful Alpha.
I could still remember his laughter and the admiration in his eyes whenever we both watched our father prepare soldiers for a hunter ambush. But that was seventeen years ago, before the night that shattered everything.
Now, his face was gaunt, his skin pale as a chalk. His left side was stiff and twisted unnaturally, the arm curled inwards and the leg propped awkwardly on the wheelchair's footrest.
A thin tube delivered oxygen to his nostrils, and a catheter bag hung from the side of the chair. His eyes were dull and unfocused – darting around the room as if trying to catch a memory that always slipped away.
The stroke had robbed him of so much—his mobility, his voice, his dreams. And the cause of it all? My father. Alpha Tomás.
Luis and I had both been there that night, hiding behind crates in the old pack warehouse. We'd seen the murder, the flash of my father's claws as they ripped into his brother—Luis's father. The betrayal, the lies, the sheer brutality of it all.
Luis's screams had reverberated after, and the shock had stolen something vital from the eleven-year-old hi-year-old him forever.
"Hey Luis," I said as I approached.
His head twitched slightly in my direction which was the only acknowledgment he could give. I dragged a chair over and slumped into it, facing him.
"Another day in paradise, huh?" I muttered, running a hand through my hair. "I swear, this pack gets dumber by the minute. You'd think with all the drama around here, someone would at least try to be interesting."
Mateo blinked slowly, his one good hand twitching on the armrest. I liked to think he understood me, even if he couldn't respond.
"You wouldn't believe the circus in the living room right now," I continued. "Álvaro wants to marry Camilla, even though he rejected her a year ago for her sister. And now, after María José humiliated him—at least in his deluded mind—he thinks marrying Camilla is the solution. Genius, right?"
Luis was abandoned goods. Father had been unable to finish him. Hence, he'd keep the poor boy in this wing, stashed away like a sack of bad fruit.
In here, he grew; from an eleven-year-old to the twenty-eight-year-old man that he was now. Seventeen years—that was the number of years my poor cousin had spent sitting in this wheelchair.
I hope that someday… I'd have enough power to fly him away and get him some proper treatment. There could still be hope for him, right?
For now, all I could do was come spend time with him every time I was around and not out, using the excuse of 'exploring the world' to avoid being present in this shitty pack. I tried as much as possible to fill him up on every little detail.
It was the least I could do; to make sure he wasn't totally detached from the world.
I leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "And of course, Father's all for it. He's practically cheering Álvaro on. 'Make a statement,' he says. Like this is some political campaign instead of people's lives we're talking about."
My hands clenched into fists. "He hasn't changed, Luis. Not one bit. Still the same selfish bastard who destroyed everything he touched. Sometimes I think about that night, you know? I think about how different things could've been if he hadn't—" I stopped, swallowing hard.
Mateo's eyes glossed, but no tears fell. They never did anymore.
I exhaled, trying to shift my thoughts. "Then there's María José," I blurted out, wondering why I considered her relevant enough to tell Luis.
"She's... something else. Beautiful, kind, strong—even without a wolf. I mean, who else could stand there, discover they had no wolf, watch everyone mock and blame them for it, and not break down? Damn, that girl is super strong. She deserves so much more than this pack. Certainly more than Álvaro."
I laughed bitterly. "Honestly, sometimes I think about what it must be like for her. Being an Omega, having no wolf, dealing with this insanity. And yet, she holds her head high. Makes me feel like a coward for hiding away in this house."
I looked at Luis, searching his face for any sign of reaction. His lips twitched faintly—maybe a ghost of agreement, or maybe just a muscle spasm. Either way, I chose to believe he understood.
"You'd like her, Luis," I said, my voice quieter now. "She's not like the rest of them. She's... Calm. Obedient. And maybe that's why they hate her so much. She doesn't fit into their stupid little boxes."
The room fell silent for a moment. If a pin had dropped, the sound could have been crazy audible. I reached out and placed a hand on Luis's shoulder, careful not to jostle him.
"I'll figure it out," I said, more to myself than to him. "This pack, Father, Álvaro... all of it. I don't know how yet, but I will."
Luis's eyes and mine interlocked for a brief moment, and I felt a spark of something—hope, maybe? Or just the faintest whiff of understanding. It was enough.
I stayed there for a while, talking about nothing and everything, until the shadows grew longer and the room felt colder.
It was starting to get grimmer again. My heart was constricted. It was time to go. As I stood to leave, I gave Mateo's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
"I'll be back tomorrow," I promised.
.
.
The moment I was out, I knew I couldn't go back to where I had come from. Not with all the emotional load of visiting Luis. I might burst and I didn't want to.
Not yet. Not until I had a solid plan.
"Exploring the pack won't be a bad idea. Who knows? Our mate might just be at a store, buying vegetables and tomatoes." Hugo chimed in and I grunted.
"Fine." I put my two hands on my hips like a ballerina. "Let's go explore the pack."