Delicate

By Tippy446

6.8M 332K 409K

Book 2: The Fated Chronicles Will doesn't trust anyone. Doesn't let them in because he doesn't want to get hu... More

Author's Note
Grammar Nazis
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Extra
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
NOT AN UPDATE
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Patreon
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Extra
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
Chapter 52
Chapter 53
Chapter 54
Chapter 55
Chapter 56
Chapter 57
Extra
Chapter 59
Chapter 60
Chapter 61
Chapter 62
Chapter 63
Chapter 64
Chapter 65
Chapter 66
Chapter 67
Chapter 68
Chapter 69
Chapter 70
Chapter 71
Chapter 72
Chapter 73
Chapter 74
Chapter 75
Chapter 76
Chapter 77
Chapter 78
Chapter 79
PLEASE READ
Chapter 80
Writing Delicate
Epilogue 1
Epilogue 2
Delicate Extra 1

Chapter 58

64.5K 3.1K 4.4K
By Tippy446

William's P.O.V

When I was five years old my mother took me with her to have brunch.

She'd prettied me up like a show pony and had spent more time than usual reinforcing just how important it was that I behaved properly - that I didn't embarrass her.

At the time, I'd been confused as to why this meal was different from the others, but I'd nodded along in agreement anyway. I knew behaving well meant being quiet, speaking when spoken to and not being messy when I ate, they were things that I could do when I focused really hard so I wasn't too worried.

When we'd arrived, we hadn't gone to a set place for two but a private suite that was bustling with women dressed just like mother; with their perfectly styled hair, expensive, fitted clothing and plastered-on smiles.

I'd realised then why it was so important to act perfect.

Mother had greeted all her friends with her perfect mask that matched theirs and played along when they all fawned over me like some new doll. They praised and complimented me, asking mother lots of questions that she lied through.

She didn't know what I was learning right now, she didn't know that I only liked listening music not playing it and I had never said that I wanted to be a lawyer, I didn't even know what that was.

She lied and they believed it, loved it and I hated it all. People always fawned over me in that manner when I was younger, but I never understood why mother only showed me that she loved me when others were close.

Later in the meal, when they'd had enough of me and they began to talk about other things, I understood it completely.

All the other ladies talked with big words to describe their big children, older children, who were off doing important things, things that were good to boast about – things that made them look good.

It was clear then that there were no other children at the table because they were too old to be at the table.

They talked and talked, going in turns to talk about how amazing their children were, doing all the things they were meant to and doing it flawlessly. That's when I realised that mother hadn't said a word for quite some time, she'd been quiet, observing and nodding, smiling and humming - when appropriate - but she hadn't actually said a single word.

It was because she couldn't.

They all had older children, successful children, and mother only had me. A child she loved only in front of others and enjoyed only when she was awarded the spotlight. Other than that, I was nothing to her, nothing more than a burden.

And when mother looked down at me for a moment, purposefully giving me a view of what lay behind the mask, I understood that she hated me, she hated everything about me.

I didn't understand why then, what I'd done wrong to make it so, but with time it became clearer. During the galas and parties we'd often attend or throw ourselves, it wasn't hard to hear the things said about mother when they were said so loudly.

Whispers of her being barren for many years, allegations that she'd never had me, that I was adopted or had some other way that wasn't the right way. Piecing together the truth out of the rumours was hard but I'd gotten it eventually.

Apparently, in the years before I came about, mother had spent years trying to have children. From the moment she'd married father, she'd been trying... and failing. But it wasn't because of any desire to be a caretaker, but due to the need to properly fit the picture-perfect image of a wealthy wife in her lucrative little circle. But year after year passed and no child ever came, I don't know what she'd done to have me, but when I did come, it was too late.

Too late because everyone else had already had theirs and she was behind - less than them.

Mother always hated me, from the moment I was born she hated me because I was the child she didn't want and later on, because I was a stain on her reputation she couldn't try removing without making things worse.

I was five years old when I realised that my mother hated me and that she would never love me.

"Will,"

Blinking slowly, I look up at Damon who was gazing down at me with narrowed eyes and building worry. I offer him a smile but it doesn't do the job, not that I thought it would.

Damon doesn't ask if I'm okay, we'd silently agreed to stop doing that when we realised that asking that question, when the answer was clear, wasn't helping anyone.

If Damon asked if I was okay right now, the answer would be no.

Not waiting for a reply, Damon takes hold of our luggage and somehow manages to manoeuvre us to an empty space.

We'd just passed security and collected our suitcases, on the other side of the remaining doors was San Francisco and everything I left behind.

"Look at me," Damon instructs gently, drawing my eyes away from the taunting doors.

As Damon takes hold of either side of my face, I look up at him and let myself be calmed by the familiar deep blues that always held love and care.

Latching onto the love, I stare back and Damon until my breaths come in time with his and my heart isn't racing quite as fast as it was before.

"We don't have to go," Damon says as he thumbs my cheek, "we can go back right now if you want to."

Damon looked ready to live up to those words if I gave him the slightest hint of approval. "You know I can't," I reply with a sad smile that makes Damon whine softly.

I'd already explained my plan to Damon and though he agreed that it would do the trick of getting my family to leave me alone for good. Both him and Theo weren't happy with any of us leaving the safety of the pack to go to my home that I'd always described as anything but safe.

But this had to be done, I had to get my parents to let me go for good and I couldn't do that from the pack.

So leaving wasn't an option, no matter how much I wished for it to be one.

"It'll be fine," I say with a little nod before I press myself up on my toes to give him a kiss, "a couple of days and it'll all be over."

Not believing the confidence I'd put in my words for a second, Damon continues to frown but he manages a small nod before he releases my face and takes hold of my hand instead.

Holding it in a tight clasp, he hands me my suitcase before getting his own, his worry-frown stubbornly remaining in place. I glance over my shoulder in search of Mekhi who I find skimming through one of the magazines on display in the duty-free shops, his expression neutral as always.

When Damon had said that Mekhi was coming with us, more so as a statement than a question, I hadn't been on board at all.

Mekhi was a nice guy but that didn't mean that I wanted him there when I faced my parents for the first time and everything eventually went tits up. I didn't want him or anyone seeing the emotionless pit I called home - especially if I could help it.

But the more Damon pushed the point, the more I saw the sense in his words and realised that I didn't hate the idea of having more people on my side in a room that would have none.

Plus if someone had to come with us, Mekhi was my first pick. He was the person I was most familiar with in the pack beside Damon, he'd always been there to help Damon and me, in turn, every step of the way. I still felt uncomfortable at the concept of having him there, but the fact that Mekhi rarely reacted to things that didn't amuse him was fairly helpful.

As if sensing my eyes on him, Mekhi looks up and gives me a little nod before he looks back down at the magazine.

"Ready?" Damon asks, drawing my attention back to him.

"Yeah," I say with a true smile, "I've got you, how could I not be?"

Damon returns the smile readily, his frown fading away just a little before he leads us out the waiting doors, ready to face my demons with me and for me.

The minute we step out, I look around for a familiar figure I was burning to see again. My smile was already growing as I thought of finally seeing Francis again after such a long time.

"I see a tall guy with a sign saying Mr.Evans," Damon says beside me as he points unabashedly at the man who stood in a perfectly tailored suit.

"Francis!" I greet, pulling Damon with me as I rush straight over to him.

Even with my fractured eyesight, I knew it was Francis. With his dark brown hair that was always kept in a short buzz cut and his towering frame that looked more intimidating that his personality would ever allow.

When I'm close enough to him, I only just manage to stop myself from hugging him despite the way my skin crawled at the thought.
For a moment, I couldn't care less about that when all I wanted to do was hug the man that had always been more of a father to me than my biological one.

Francis holds himself back as well, smiling widely down at me while he stood a little way across from Damon and I. I can't help but laugh - just a little - when the familiar scent of his cologne brushes my nose, he'd never changed it after all these years, no matter how much everyone who met him complained about the scent of it.

"William," Francis greets, his voice sounding almost as joyous as I felt right now.

"I've missed you so much Francis," I admit freely making Francis' smile stretch a little wider.

I was usually more guarded with my emotions, especially when they involved other people, but I trusted Francis and I honestly doubted I could keep my excitement in if I tried.

"I've missed you too William," He replies gently, before he looks between me and Damon, "it's so good to see you again, and happy and healthy at that."

"I've been taking care of myself," I reply before looking up at Damon who looked absolutely petrified.

Biting my lip, I barely manage to swallow down my snorts as I take in my normally confident mate, now look so scared. Maybe nervous was the better word to describe the way Damon had begun to sweat, his posture rigid and his features a distorted mess of emotions.

I knew that despite their sour greetings over the phone, that Damon was truly afraid of making a bad impression on Francis, who he knew I cared deeply for, but I didn't think he was this scared.

It was kind of adorable.

"Francis, this is Damon," I introduce, hoping to break the ice quickly, "my boyfriend, or as you know him, 'the boy'."

Francis laughs at that jab before he gives Damon his full attention, assessing him carefully with a knowing gaze that lingers on our clasped hands for so long that they become sweaty on Damon's side. I give him a little squeeze and let myself enjoy this moment of having my boyfriend scrutinized by someone who had my best intentions in mind.

Francis' daughters were very lucky to have a father like him.

Damon offers his free hand first and Francis takes it, they exchange a firm shake before returning each of their hands to their sides. A moment of silence passes before Damon finally says, "it's nice to meet you Sir Francis."

Francis smiles and I chuckle, "I-I mean Sir," Damon corrects quickly with the slightest hint of a flinch. Rubbing the side of his arm soothingly, I smile up at him and try my best to exude love and happiness.

Wanting to put Damon out of his misery, Francis doesn't lose the smile as he replies, "it's nice to meet you too Damon. William speaks very highly of you, I hope to see why he does over these next few days."

I smile gratefully at Francis, any more grilling or long looks and Damon might pass out. Clearly not trusting himself to speak coherently anymore, Damon just nods and tries his best to offer a polite smile.

If we weren't in an airport or in front of Francis, I knew I'd tackle Damon and smother him with a life worth of kisses for being so sweet and trying so hard. But we were, so I reigned myself in and turned in search of Mekhi, I find him lingering close by with his hands in his pocket and gum in his mouth.

Never one to miss a single thing, Mekhi immediately catches my eye as I beckon him over. His brown eyes grow even wider as he points a single finger at his chest. I nod and he frowns deeply before looking around and pressing two fingers against his chest with a little more force. I nod twice and beckon him over again.

Mekhi doesn't strain his journey towards us, as he shuffles through the moving people and meets us on the other side with an awkward look of confusion that didn't suit his usually certain posture.

"Francis, this is Mekhi," I introduce with a look to Francis that said to be kind, "he's one of Damon's best friends and he's a friend of mine."

I didn't know if Mekhi considered us to be friends or even acquaintances, but I wanted to build a relationship with him seeing as Damon trusted him so much and he was always there for us whenever we needed him. Hopefully, he wouldn't mind me jumping the gun here too much.

"It's nice to meet you Mekhi," Francis says, offering him a hand that Mekhi reluctantly shakes.

Mekhi offers Francis a tight-lipped smile which I figured would be the best we'd get from him before returning to looking about but beside us this time. With introductions settled, I turn back to Francis, still buzzing with the happiness of having seen him again.

"Let's go,"

At the car, neither Mekhi nor Damon let Francis do his job with their persistence to load our luggage themselves. Damon liked doing things himself and Mekhi seemed reluctant to let anyone lay a single hand on his duffel, which left everyone in the most annoying loop I'd ever witnessed.

My mother's ringtone draws my attention from the little squabble going on at the trunk of the car, I take a few steps away from the group and inhale deeply before answering the call.

"Hello mother," I answer plainly, unable to muster up any non-existent excitement in my greeting.

"William!" Mother cheers with the full force of hers, "Your flight should've landed by now and I've not received a call from Francis, I take it that you're here."

"Yes mother," I reply sadly, she'd probably thought I wouldn't have gotten on the flight at all and honestly I wouldn't have if it wasn't absolutely necessary for me to have a future that didn't include them. "We're at the car now, I'll be home soon."

"Wonderful! I've missed you so much dear," Mother promises with fabricated care that I once would've believed was true.

I knew better now.

"I want to hear all about your time away so hurry home, I don't want you making any stops on the way," She insists with her sickly-sweet tone.

"Yes mother," I reply again before looking back at Damon who had stopped his arguing to check on me, "we'll see you soon."

I disconnect the call and stuff my phone into my pocket before making my way back over to the car, I offer Damon a smile when he steps close to silently comfort me with his presence. I soak it all in until my smile turns true and my dread slips from me for a moment.

"That was mother, she's waiting for us," I say to everyone as I look back at Mekhi and Francis, "so I suggest you guys stop being petty so we can get on the road."

Despite my words they all still fought about loading in the suitcase, each wanting to have it their own way. It took Francis giving up with a very dramatic and frustrated sigh for the luggage to find its way into the trunk and everyone to file into the car obediently.

With gentle music playing in the background, we pull out of one of the airport's parking lots and move onto open roads. "How was the flight down? They didn't put you in a wheelchair again did they?" Francis asks once we meet the freeway.

"Thankfully not," I reply with a chuckle, they had tried to approach me with one but stopped the minute they saw Damon glaring down at them, "we got through without too many issues."

There should've been a lot seeing the way Damon and Mekhi carried themselves in the airport, any trained security officer would've taken them away immediately for questioning but Mekhi's magic always seemed to make the problem go away before it could develop further.

"Ignoring the journey down and the reason for it, tell me how you've been," Francis says with genuine interest and worry.

"You ask me this every day," I reply as I look over at him, his features were had to read from the side but I could just about pick up a blurred smile.

"Well, I didn't get to ask it today so answer the question, truthfully."

Looking back to the road before me, the smile remains on my lips as I answer him as honestly as I could, "I've been very happy. I found Damon and somehow I've managed to keep him for this long, and he's been slowly helping me... be me again."

I check the rearview mirror and my heart warms when I find Damon beaming from ear-to-ear like a puppy who'd just been showered with affection. A glance across at Mekhi said that he clearly wasn't a dog person.

"That's really good William," Francis replies seriously, "I'm happy that you're happy, that you've found happiness out there."

"How have you been?" I ask in turn.

"The same as always, taking care of the kids and making sure that the wife is happy," Francis answers was so Francis that I couldn't fault him for a thing. He'd always been a private person who liked to keep the line between his business life and his personal life very clear and though I was an exception, I knew he wouldn't go into much more detail with Damon and Mekhi in the car.

"Mother hasn't been too much?"

"No more than she usually is,"

"I'll take that as a good thing then," I reply as I sink into my chair, dread forming in the pit of my stomach as we got closer and closer to home.

When I'd left for Wolfshedge all those months ago, it was with the knowledge that every now and again when I couldn't escape it, I'd have to return home to play the perfect son. I'd known that I had accepted that from the moment I decided I was leaving.

But that was before I met Damon, before I began building a life with and before he introduced me to his, that was when I didn't think I'd find anywhere I didn't want to leave ever. I had that now and going home never seemed so poisonous as it did now.

Returning to the life of well-worn masks and backhanded compliments were torturous when I'd lived with honest people and constant laughter. We'd had our troubles and were still working through them, but it wasn't filled with distrust and hatred like what was awaiting me at home.

Going back to it seemed like falling asleep in a perfect world only to find your greatest fears awaiting you in your dreams.

"Have you decided what you're going to do?" Francis asks in a quiet enough tone that neither Mekhi nor Damon would've heard if they weren't supernatural. A glance back in the rearview mirror confirmed that he could hear us just fine.

"I'm going to come out," I say with a shrug that downplayed the significance of those words when applied to my household, "but I'm going to do it in the middle of my birthday celebration, where everyone can see."

Francis doesn't reply immediately, he just keeps his eyes on the road and thinks silently. Before worries could form that he'd hate the plan and try to sway me away from going through with it, he glances at me with that smile he reserved for his family alone, "it's what those bastards deserve."

I smile back at him and nod, happy to have his full support in this because there wasn't a doubt in my mind that I would need it.

It was my first time returning home since I left but I was nothing like the person I had been when I'd escaped its horrors the first time. The William I was today was happy, confident and actually looking forward to my future, one that didn't look so painful anymore. I wasn't scared of going out alone or at night, I didn't have panic attacks when I stepped out the door and I sure as hell didn't lock myself off to anyone who appeared friendly.

I was still cautious, a part of me always would be, but I had people I knew I could trust. I had Francis and Blue, Damon and hopefully Mekhi, not to mention Damon's family that would tear anyone apart if they even tried to hug me without permission.

I knew as much because Hagen and Josey made sure to hound that point in clearly for me before I left, which was one of the sweetest things I ever witnessed in my life.

Damon's parents' promises to do the same were a little scarier but it was still sweet.

All in all, I was happy and I wasn't afraid anymore, and though I knew that being home would fuck some of that up for me, I was okay with that because I knew there would be people to help me build myself back up when it was all said and done.

It wasn't just me anymore.

----------------------

Stepping out of the car, I try not to let myself become overwhelmed by the nauseating feeling of reality sinking in.

I was back.

The house was just as I left it, standing tall and dominating every other household nearby with its monstrous landscape which held numerous facilities, all managed and catered for by the workers.

Familiar scents washed through me, making me feel unstable in my own skin as my mind tried to readjust to being home. Instinctually, I stood a little taller, let pieces of my broken mask slide into place as I naturally put on the front of William Evans, the one which had been groomed for this household.

It felt so wrong and yet it came back to me in seconds.

I try not to focus on that, it would only mess with my head and I couldn't face mother like that, she'd rip me to shred if she found me in any other state than perfect.

But it was easier said than done when I was standing in front of the horror house I still called home. I glance away from the towering stone columns and back down at the long drive that twisted and turned on the way up, as if leading to some castle. It was carefully lined by white azaleas which were in bloom and trimmed daily to keep the gardens looking just as perfect as my parents tried to be.

Early childhood memories of running up and down the road made my stomach recoil uncomfortably as I remembered how they were all once pink before father burned them to the ground.

'Little boys don't like the things little girls should.' A lesson he'd called it, one that I never forgot.

A warm hand holding mine pulls me back to the present where deep blue eyes waited for me, confident and supportive as Damon grounded me effortlessly. I let myself inhale his familiar scent that was soft and welcoming as it surrounded me.

I had Damon.

I was safe with Damon.

Things weren't the same as before, even if they looked the same. I had Damon, he was right here, standing with me like he always was.

I just had to focus on my mate and I'd be okay.

I just had to focus on Damon.

"Let me do the talking," I say while giving Damon's hand a tight squeeze, "No matter what she says or what she does, you just let me handle it okay?"

"Okay," He agrees with a stiff nod that matched my tightly bound muscles, tension keeping them rigid.

I release his hand and take a step away when two workers come rushing out of the house's massive, metal doors. Dressed in carefully pressed, immaculate uniforms, wearing neutral yet accommodating faces, they head straight to the back of the car, ready to load out the luggage.

Francis manages to stop history from repeating itself when he identifies my suitcase as the only one to touch, allowing Damon and Mekhi to collect their own themselves. The two workers look at me questioningly, but wander off with only my luggage when I give them an affirmative nod.

Keeping a painful distance between Damon and me, I try to steel myself when the click-clack of mother's stilettos comes closer and closer. I flick my gaze up at the warm, baby-blue sky, past the flowing red, blue and white flag, I send a silent prayer up to God to help us get through this weekend.

It was just one weekend.

"William," Mother calls bringing my eyes down from the open sky and to the woman who stood in the doorway with a wide smile I could make out from here.

It shouldn't have upset me so much to hear her voice, I heard it all the time whenever I was forced to speak to her over the phone and it was the same voice I grew up hearing. But hearing it in person and linking it with the image of her standing before me was somehow very different than when it was just a voice on the other side of a call.

It made it all so much more real.

Mother stood in the entryway, waiting for us to come to her because God forbid she came to greet someone first. She wore a well-fitted soft pink dress that left her wrists and neck free for consciously placed diamonds that were meant to complement the ones resting on her ears.

Every inch of her was perfect. Not a wrinkle insight or a lock of hair out of place, her smile was sweet and her figure lean and slim, marking her as the walking image of poisonous wealth.

I make my way to mother, taking confident steps with the right posture that I knew she'd approve of. I kept my eyes focused on her while I settled my thoughts on the heavy steps that followed behind me, Damon's steps that I knew would follow me everywhere.

I stop not too far from mother and hold her gaze, staring into her deep brown eyes that matched that of a pit of darkness.

"You're home darling," Mother says softly, her voice taking on that fond tone she reserved for guests, I knew it was only making an appearance now since she didn't know Damon or Mekhi.

"I am," I say trying my best not to sound as pained as I felt inside.

Mother's smile was wide and bright, showing off her straight line of pearly whites as she looked at me like a shiny prize, pointedly ignore the audible disdain in my voice. Instead, she tries to hug me, causing me to immediately step back as my heart rate skyrockets and my throat locks itself tight.

The thought of touching another always upset me, but the thought of touching my mother disgusted me.

"I'm sorry dear," Mother says feigning sorrow as she locks her hands against her chest and takes a step back of her own, "I'm so sorry William, I forgot."

Another wouldn't recognise the way the word 'sorry' grated against her tongue, they'd mark it off as genuine sadness and regret, hurt even at the thought of causing their child pain. But it wasn't that, it was the crack in her persona that came whenever she had to express remorse to me in public.

"It's fine mother," I reply, letting myself wear my own mask a little better. It came with some effort since it was harder after so many months without having to, but as the saying went - old habits died hard, "it's my own fault for not being over this thing by now."

Mother cranes her head with a soft sound of approval while she clenched her hands together even tighter, "you can't help it I know, I'm just pleased that you're still trying to rid yourself of it."

I manage a nod and granting smile in response before I turn slightly to face Damon and Mekhi who stood side by side, their expressions blind to me and I was eternally glad for it.

Before the incident, it had never bothered me too much to put on this act, to play house in front of others, after all, the ones I was acting for were usually doing the same. But it did bother me doing it in front of Damon and Mekhi. They were honest, open with their emotions always, and playing the role of mother's perfect son, turned my stomach sour.

"Mother, this is Damon and Mekhi," I introduce, purposefully excluding their last names since mentioning one that didn't carry weight in mother's mind would unravel her pretences and my plan with it, "they're some old friends who I ran into at the airport."

Labelling Damon and Mekhi as old friends immediately made mother's eyes light up. Growing up I'd attended the most prestigious schools that only accommodated students of a certain...background, students who would grow to be future connections. Suggesting that Mekhi and Damon were one of those students was all mother needed to mark them as important enough to be respectful of.

"It's lovely to meet you both," Mother beams with a smile wider than the one she's greeted me with moments ago, "William rarely brings friends around, hopefully, you can brighten his mood."

It was meant to be a light joke, but neither Damon nor Mekhi laughed.

"Well, this actually works out splendidly," Mother says clapping her hands together as she redirects her attention to me, "we had the guest house prepared for you, and there's more than enough room for you and your friends to stay there."

A frown forms before I can stop it, my working thoughts stumbling over the new information I hadn't prepared for. I'd prepared for a lot this weekend, from both mother and father, but this was unexpected and so strange that it took me off course instantly.

I'd always stayed in the house, in my bedroom, even after I returned from the hospital and father left to stay elsewhere. It was my room, it was always my room.

"Your father thought you'd prefer your own space," Mother quickly adds when I open my mouth, cutting off any remark or question I could make that would expose the most hideous wound in this household, "you're a grown man William, soon to be twenty years old, we thought you wouldn't want to stay in the house with your parents anymore."

Translation being, we don't want you in the house.

I suppose I should've prepared for this, it made sense that father wouldn't have his fairy son in the same space as him, no matter how unlikely it was for our paths to cross if we didn't want them to. He'd left before and I should've expected the result to be much the same now, the only difference being that I was the one who had to get out now.

Putting me in the guest house would be the perfect solution for them. It was still on the extensive family lands, keeping me close enough not to raise questions but far enough to keep father sated. I'd be away from them for the entire weekend and father wouldn't have to see me until the party where he'd pretend to love me and then I'd leave until needed again.

Things would never change.

Part of me wanted to get in the car and leave. To go back to the pack and throw my phone away so I would never have to hear from them again. I wanted to build my life with Damon and leave my parents to deal with the embarrassment of having to cancel the event so close to the date. God knew it would drive them insane and make them hate me even more, but it wasn't enough.

After they kicked me out of my own house, kept me from my own room, it wouldn't be enough for me.

I wanted them to hurt.

I wanted their life to crumble like mine had, their precious connections to wither away and die, and for their wealth to be dragged from their greedy hands until they were left with nothing but their already wrecked marriage and a reputation so vile they couldn't craft a new one.

Leaving would embarrass them but I wanted to destroy them, I would destroy them.

"Thank you, mom," I say with a smile that makes mother's falter as she stiffens for a moment.

I never called her mom.

"I hadn't even thought of that so I really appreciate you guys doing that for me," I say smoothly, my mask on firmer than it had ever been before, "plus I doubt Mekhi or Damon would want to stay in the main house anyway. This way we can catch up and have some fun without causing a ruckus for you and dad."

Mother flinches just a little at the use of 'dad' from my lips.

"We'll go unpack now, let me know if we should attend dinner," I say before stepping up to her, I rest a gentle hand to her covered shoulder and give it a squeeze.

It wasn't painful but it was enough to make her lean frame go rigid under my touch. I could see and feel the discomfort seeping into her veins so I held on just a little longer to make it last. Everything inside of me recoiled at the thought, bile threatening to escape me, but I forced myself to swallow down my own panic and anxiety in favour of making her feel what I felt for once.

If I was going to suffer then so would she.

"It's really good to be home,"

-------------------------

Nobody can ever tell me that Will is not alpha/luna material

NOBODY!!!!!!!!!!!

Thoughts????????????????????

What did we think of the Will and Francis Reunion?
What about the Will and Francis first meeting?
Do we like Mekhi being there?

And do we like that little confrontation with Will and his mother?

I had A LOT of trouble putting this chapter together because I wasn't sure how I could show that Will was still severely affected by his past but also much stronger than what he left. It's very different thinking that you're stronger and then actually doing something that proves it.

I think that little ending was a good balance of what I was trying to achieve, what about you guys???

This update took a while since I spent the last week with my closest friends on a little getaway and I just wanted to have some fun with them since I've barely seen them with the pandemic.

Sorry for taking so long to get it done, but I hope that you enjoyed the finished product.

Vote and comment if you did, I read all comments even if I can't always reply to them.

I'll be updating Delicate again before I do a Patreon but I plan to keep updating Delicate for some time.

Until next time,
Byeeeeeee Humanssssssssss

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