The Beta's home, a sprawling, modern structure nestled deep within the pack's territory, was usually a sanctuary of calm. But tonight, the tension between Boris and Alana crackled in the air of their elegantly furnished living room, the muted tones of the decor doing little to soothe the storm brewing between them.
"You cannot ask that of the Alpha!" Alana's voice, usually soft, was sharp with frustration. Her husband, Boris, was clearly not thinking straight, and his impulsive actions could jeopardize their standing within the pack – a risk she was not brave enough to take herself.
Boris, however, was consumed. He could not rid himself of the cloying scent of his daughter's fear, nor could he shake the haunting images of Trinity, tied with silver, her limp body cradled by that boy. His daughter! His child, in a pain he could not fully comprehend. He needed to keep her close, to keep her safe. It wasn't enough to simply have Keal watch over her; he yearned to be the one to protect her, now that he finally could.
"I need to get her. She needs me!" Beta Boris barked, his large hand slamming down on the polished mahogany table, the thud echoing in the quiet room.
He desperately wanted to be there for her. He had never truly been able to be there for his daughter. The two years of her life that he had been a part of were, admittedly, the best time of his life. Even the knowledge of everything that followed seemed irrelevant. Even with his mate bond, he felt hollow; his daughter was his missing component.
"Trinity is an adult. Why do you need to rush everything? Risking our positions?" Alana pleaded, closing the distance between them, her hand reaching out to touch his arm, hoping to use the calming influence of their bond to sway him.
And now his daughter was just down the street, within walking distance, yet he was still forbidden from simply going to her. It was infuriating. A low growl spilled involuntarily from his lips, a primal sound of suppressed rage. He felt as if at any moment he would lose control, that he would let himself lose control, so that he could go be with his daughter, protect her finally.
He knew it was different for his wife. Alana did not understand how he felt. Her bloodline was weak, so her instincts would always be underdeveloped. But he was different. His bloodline held both Alpha and Beta blood; his blood would always allow him to feel family, to know his pup. Even with their distance, he could smell her. She wasn't as terrified anymore, and that faint lessening of her fear was the only thing holding his body from shifting.
Pulling away from the soothing touch of his mate, Boris felt the rising tension overwhelm his body again. "I love our daughter. Beyond time, distance, or age, Alana."
Yet still, he was being denied the ability to just go to his child. He wanted to go to the Alpha, to ask him if he could simply retrieve his daughter. She was scared. What would a few hours mean? He didn't need a ceremony; he just wanted his kid.
Alana's heart ached as she looked at her mate. She had her own fears, but mixing with his, she felt like she could barely think straight. He thought she did not feel her daughter the way he did. She could feel his longing as if it were her own, she understood how he felt exactly. But her mind could not bridge the barrier. It was emotions without reason in her mind, the disconnect frustrating her. Her mate's love for their daughter pushed into her body through their bond, but the feeling itself felt alien to her. Trinity wasn't hers. Alana had closed her heart to that girl.
"I want what you have for her, but I don't feel anything for her. I can't risk my happiness for hers. She's not mine, Boris! To me, our daughter died."
Unlike her mate, she was nervous to see her daughter. She couldn't imagine what it was like to be around her anymore. When she was a baby, she protected her because she knew it was her child. But once she got older and could move around on her own, it felt as if it was so hard to find her. She would constantly confuse her own daughter with other children, feeling constantly lost. The bond, which helped them track their family, was strangely mute for Trinity. She was embarrassed whenever she left the house with that child. She had wanted to give her up well before the two-year deadline. The law had been a blessing to her. She couldn't imagine keeping her in her home, and now she was being forced to.
Because at least a pack bond was there with other children. But with her own child, she didn't feel anything. It was as if she was already dead to her. She had known that her daughter was defective far before her husband ever did, because from the beginning, she never felt anything. It was hard to feel maternal love for a daughter that didn't feel like her own. It was like raising someone else's child, while hers was lost, and no one would help her look for her real daughter.
She didn't know how to express herself to her husband. He loved Trinity with all his heart; there wasn't a moment of pause in his love for her. Alana wasn't the same, and it made her feel alien in her own home. She had to remind herself to feed the girl as a baby. The same words ran through her mind every morning in those early days: She's yours. Change her diaper, she's yours. Keep her safe, she's yours. But no matter how many times she repeated these words in her head, it was met with robotic actions. She was simply trying to remember to do these things, but none of it felt organic.
She wanted to tell her husband. In a way, she knew he was aware, because their mate bond didn't allow for many secrets. He could feel her anxiety, every emotion surrounding the return of his daughter. Because if she was being honest with herself, it wasn't her daughter coming home. It was his. Of the two of them, he was the only parent. And she envied him for it. She wanted to be a mother, and Trinity had robbed her of the chance. She had stolen her chance and stopped them from trying again for a perfect child.
They had many fights surrounding the topic, but he wouldn't budge. He would not have another child as long as his first child could not come home. Eventually, she gave up, because she knew he wouldn't be able to take it, not if another one became a defective. Trinity was so deeply etched on his heart; he didn't have space for another child. His guilt took up far too much space.
Boris felt depleted. Looking at his mate, he gave her a sad smile, ultimately caving to her anxiety. He would still talk to the Alpha, he just wouldn't exactly demand to get his daughter now. But perhaps they could make a concession.
"I know," he whispered quietly, feeling a pang in his chest. The bond's light punishment for the argument. The bond knew the depths even without the volatility of true violence.
Alana gave him a sad but pleased smile, feeling his acceptance to some degree of her worries.
He needed to think without the pressures of the bond weighing on him. Wrapping his arm around Alana's waist, he kissed her temple. He then turned and walked with heavy steps towards his office.
Alana watched as Boris made his way to his office, the door clicking softly behind him. She knew he still hadn't settled his mind; the cord of their bond vibrated with jittery energy between them. She decided to leave him alone for now. Just before she turned to leave the living room, she heard the distinct sound of two firm knocks on their front door.