Something From Nothing

Man Up And Open Up

My father nodded, offering me a strained smile. "I'm fine son. Just tired as I suspect you are after such a long day."

I shrugged, grinning as though I wasn't affected at all. "What? Me? Tired? After filing a forests worth of paperwork, almost starting a war with a prejudiced alpha, three hours of hardcore training and then two hours of dealing with a bunch of 11-year-olds? Nah why would I be tired?"

My father chuckled as he shoved me playfully. "You sound so much like your mother when you do that."

"What state the obvious?"

"Be sarcastic." He said, lifting a hand to brush my hair off my face. His face turned serious as his hand drifted to my shoulder. "Son you know that I'm proud of you and that everything I've ever done is to protect, you, your sister and your mother?"

I nodded without hesitation. "Of course. Well even though I have the tendency to mess up sometimes."

"We all make mistakes Logan. They're a part of life."

A sigh left me as my eyes drifted to my feet. "I guess but I'm the Prince and future King, I shouldn't be this bad at helping run things on my own."

"That's your problem son. You're trying to do things alone. It's not just you, you have a family, a pack and even a mate now. You can't do it alone and you don't have to. Goddesses, you wouldn't even know the number of times your mother or Nikolai has saved me from either getting myself killed or...lord I almost gave all our territory away for a chocolate milkshake once."

I laughed wildly at the simple thought of my put together father making a mistake never mind one with such drastic consequences. "Jeez, how did you even manage that?"

"I was young and dumb and I didn't have your mother around that's how. If it wasn't for Nikolai we may very well be living in a trailer halfway down the country at this point." My father remarked, standing to take his suit jacket off.

Jerimiah Mercier looked good for a man of forty-six. With dark brown hair, hazel eyes and sharp jaw it was easy to tell he had been good looking in his youth and middle age seemed to be just as kind as he had barely any wrinkles, just crows feet around his eyes and his hair had no evidence of grey hairs.

Though when he looked at me again his eyes screamed of the years of hurt and pain he may have gone through. "What is it?" I asked sensing that there was something on his mind.

"We need to talk son." He said as he settled into the chair behind his desk. I dropped into the one opposite him.

Anxiety immediately filled me from head to toe. I think that was a natural reaction though for any teenager or even adult told that they 'need to talk' by a parent. I went through a list of everything that I could have possibly done wrong in my head. When I couldn't think of anything too bad I hesitantly asked, "Okay about what?"

"Achilles' mother."

My eyes widened in surprise as my mouth opened and closed a few times, making me look like a fish out of water. "W-what do you know about Ace's mother?"

My father's mouth pressed into a thin line. He squared his shoulders before he looked at me again, this time his eyes held a seriousness to them that I had never seen before. "I was the one who killed her."

---

I didn't know what to think as I stepped out of my father's office an hour later. My head was spinning and I had to lean back against the wall before I moved again.

My brain stuttered for a moment and my legs trembled, every part of me went on pause while my thoughts caught up.

Throughout that entire conversation, my face remained with one facial expression; with my brows furrowed, my jaw clenched and my eyes firmly settled on my father.