After The I Do

by Autumn Breeze

“I am sorry for you loss,” I tell her and I honestly mean it. Evaline is her daughter. She is Everett’s sister. No matter what her crimes, she is family. Now, she is dead.

  “Me, too.” Tears fill Susan’s eyes. I look away, giving her time to gather herself. “What happens now?” she asks once she is under control.

  “Word will spread about Evaline.” Those loyal will run. Those who were just following orders will make excuses. “The pack will need an alpha.” Susan already knows that. “I will be making the selection.”

  Whoever takes over will need to be someone capable of running the Dawson’s businesses and controlling the remaining pack members. It will need to be someone who has a vested interest in keeping peace, too.

  “Everett?” Susan asks. I shake my head.

  “Erian,” I tell her. She is the only logical choice.

  Susan frowns, “Erian?”

  “She loves Mason. He loved her. Together, they have a child. She’ll never want war, not with my family, because we are family.” At least, that is my hope. What the future holds, even I don’t know. What I do know is Erian lost as much as I did in this senseless war. It is my hope that loss will give her reason to keep the peace, to keep our respective tribes close.

  “She’ll need help,” Susan muses.

  “I imagine she’ll rely on you a lot.” She’d need her mother more than ever as not only alpha, but a soon-to-be mother herself. “And she can come to me. I want our families to work together, Susan. I want my children and your grandchildren to be friends, consider each other family.”

  “And Everett?” she questions.

  I close my eyes as my heart squeezes painfully. It is hard to breathe for a moment. “Everett . . . I don’t know.” And I truly don’t. “I love him.”

  I’m not ashamed of that or scared to admit it.

  “Sometimes, that isn’t enough,” she tells me, repeating words I have only said in the privacy of my own head or to trusted family. “I know how that is, Thanos.” Reaching out, she pats my forearm with a warm hand. “I am sorry for your losses, too.” She rises to her feet and leaves.

  She doesn’t just mean Mason.

  I sit in silence, waiting for the house to wake. My mind wanders.

  If love isn’t enough, what is?

  The answers eludes me even as a familiar voice says, “Mother said I should come see you.”

  Glancing up, Erian is standing in the doorway. Pushing to my feet, I look the young woman over. She is only twenty-five—still young in many ways and the fifth daughter. It most likely never occurred to her that she would one day rule over her family. I hope she can lead it as it needs to be led. I hope I am not making a mistake by choosing her.

  “She told you about Evaline?” I inquire, slipping one hand into my pants pocket as I approach.

  Erian sighs, giving her head a small shake. “She explained.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” I tell her. Evaline is still her sister, still family despite everything.

  “I’m not,” Erian speaks, her voice steady as her eyes blaze. “Because of her, Mason . . . ” She trails off, closing her eyes against the words as one of her hands lays against her stomach.

  It will be some time before anyone can see the evidence of the baby growing inside of her. Mason will never see. I don’t know which of us hurts more because of his absence.

  “I miss him, too,” I confide. He was my little brother, the only one I ever had. There is a hole in my chest where he resided for most of my life.

  Erian gives a shaky exhale. There is no comfort I can offer that will make her heart hurt less. Maybe time and work, the child that will arrive next year, will help.

  I ask, “Do you want to sit?”

  She shakes her head in response. “I do better standing.”

  “Maybe we should go for a walk,” I suggest. She nods, and the pair of us silently move from the house. I recognize the path we take around the house as the one that leads toward Mason’s funeral pyre.

  “What is this about?” Erian asks after we have walked together for a short time.

  “Your pack needs an alpha.” She knows that. I don’t need to tell her that they need strong leadership to ensure the mistakes of the last few generations are not compounded upon. “I believe you are the only one suited for the job.”

  Erian frowns, her gaze dancing toward me. “Me?”

  I nod. “You have lost just as much, if not more because of the war.” She lost Mason. She lost Evaline. Her family is shattered in more ways than one. “You know the price bloodshed demands better than anyone.” We pause and face one another. “It is my hope with you as alpha, peace will not be a facade designed to hide nefarious plans between our families.”

  Can she understand that? Does she desire peace as much as I do?

  “What is Mason’s middle name?” she asks and I pause.

  Shouldn’t she already know? But I suppose they had so little time together—less than even Everett and I. Middle names must have felt like something of no importance, a stray bit of information they would eventually get to.

  “Maximum,” I tell her.

  “I’ll be alpha,” she agrees, and I exhale, a weight leaving my shoulders. “And this baby will be named Maximum Mason Right.”

  My heart squeezes. “If it’s a girl?” I ask.

  “It will change nothing. Mason’s child will carry his name.” She touches her stomach, closing her eyes again and I look away as a single tear falls. She has lost so much. All I can offer her is peace and hope it is enough but . . . I fear it will not be.

  What is peace without love, after all, but the time after one war and before another?

  “Mason would be proud.”

  46

  Murder is something I have never taken pleasure in, but it would be a lie to say I didn’t enjoy killing Oliver Dawson. I delighted in the way it felt when I put my hands around his neck and squeezed until he was clawing at my arms and turning blue. My heart raced with excitement as he struggled to breathe and still couldn’t draw a single breath. I loved knowing as his eyes dulled and the end came, I was the last person he ever saw.

  In contrast, I hate the dull look in Everett’s gaze as his siblings and mother prepare to leave. As much as it hurts, I have to let him go. It is what is best for both of us. We both need time to heal. Maybe the distance will help. Maybe it won’t. No man can know the future—and I won’t pretend I can predict it.

  “These are for you,” I tell him, extending a set of keys.

  Everett frowns. “What are they for?”

  “They are the keys to Mason’s shop. Mother and Erian have already been by. Whatever is left is yours,” I explain. Mason would have wanted his best friend to have the keys, the space to do with as he pleased.

  Plus, Everett needs somewhere to go that isn’t the house he grew up tortured in, too.

  “I don’t want—”

  Taking Everett’s hand, I press the keys into his palm. “It’s yours. Do as you will with it.”

  Peering down at this hand, Everett finally closes his palm around the offering. “I’m going to open an art studio. I’m going to do what makes me happy from now on.”

  Smiling, I grasp his shoulder. “I hope this life turns into everything you want it to.”

  I really do want the best for him. So long as he is happy, I will be content with the way things turned out between the pair of us.

  “Do you think I’ll see you again?” he asks.

  My gaze flickers to his family; they are waiting on him.

  “I should hope so.” We are bound now. His sister is going to have my little brother’s child. There is no denying we are family now.

  “Maybe when things are settled, I can give you art lessons or something,” he says while slipping the keys in his pocket.

  “Do I get a discount?” I inquire, only teasing.

  “Sure; for every ten people you encourage to sign up, you’ll get a free lesson,” he replies.

  I la
ugh. “Mason would approve.”

  “Of which part?” he asks.

  “All of it, I imagine,” I inform him.

  Mason was fond of Everett till his last breath. It didn’t matter to him that Everett betrayed us.

  “I’d better go,” Everett says, glancing back at his family. Mine have already made their farewells. I am the last one, and the only one I really need to say goodbye to is Everett.

  This doesn’t feel like any goodbye I have experienced before.

  “Let me know when you open your studio,” I tell him, slipping a hand into my pocket. It is time to let him go so he can live his life and I can live mine.

  “You want an invite?” he asks.

  “I would.” There is no reason not to accept the invitation. We are parting on good terms—or as good as they can be under the circumstances. No one is mad at Everett anymore, not even me. I understand he did what he thought he had to. He played the hand he was dealt.

  “I’ll send one,” he agrees before stepping back. I offer a nod and a smile. He turns before pausing. Spinning toward me, he rushes forward. His arms slide around my middle and squeeze. I hesitate before wrapping my arms around his shoulders and returning the embrace.

  My heart is in my throat. This man . . . I have no words.

  “Goodbye, Thanos,” he mutters against my chest.

  “I’ll see you around, любимый.” This isn’t goodbye; it is just the end of our relationship. We will see each other again because of Erian, because I know he will send me an invite expecting me to attend when his studio opens.

  “Take care of yourself, Athanasios,” he declares before darting down the stairs and disappearing into his mother’s car. Standing on the stoop, I watch him leave. He looks back and I lift my hand just before he passes through the gate. It isn’t goodbye but now with him out of sight, it sure as hell feels like one.

  “You’re an idiot,” Duke speaks behind me. I frown, turning to face my oldest and best friend. The insult isn’t new, but this time I can feel the weight of his words and the fact that he sincerely believes I am an idiot.

  “What?” I ask, not as confused as I must appear.

  “That boy loves you, and you love him,” he declares. I open my mouth to retort, but he is already shaking his head. “Don’t you dare tell me it isn’t enough. I know it isn’t but—” he shoves an unsteady hand into his hair “—goddamnit, Thanos . . . love is never enough. It just isn’t. There has to be more. When you love someone the way you love, Everett, you find another reason—make one up if you have to, but don’t just let him go.”

  I open my mouth and he shakes his head, leveling me with a glare I’d expect from my mother or father. “Give yourself time. Give him time, but then you call him and you ask him to get coffee. You will regret it if you don’t.”

  “How can I ever be with him?” I ask.

  How can I ever trust him again?

  How can we ever be what we were before things went sour between us?

  “Shit happens, Thanos!” Duke exclaims, tossing his arms into the air. “Shit happens. He’s only . . . human. He might have something in his DNA that makes him a little more, but at the end of the day, he is as flawed and imperfect as us all.

  “He makes mistakes—the same ones we’ve both made, or would make, if necessary. He isn’t any different than everyone else who ever lived through a shit show. Everyone lost something.”

  Duke’s eyes darken. I can see his pain for only a moment before it disappears.

  He lost his child. He would be a father soon if Lilith hadn’t been attacked.

  Everyone . . . lost something.

  “Are you really willing to lose more, to just . . . give it up without a fight?” he asks, turning his wedding ring on his finger as I look toward the drive.

  Am I willing to just . . . give up without a fight when we’d spent so long fighting for this life, for this peace, for the right to be happy with the people we love? Is that the kind of man I am?

  I sigh. “I’ll call when he settles.”

  It’s just coffee. It isn’t a marriage proposal. It’s not even an attempt to be with him. Coffee is something I’ve gotten with friends and family alike. Everett wouldn’t be a bad friend to have.

  Duke exhales. “Good. I have to get back to Necropolis. Maybe I still have a job.”

  I doubt he is fired since he took personal time, but his ass is probably in hot water.

  “Take Lilith with you,” I tell him.

  It will be good for her to be back in the city. She needs her familiar routines to settle into.

  “I plan to.” He pauses. “I’m admitting her to a facility.” My eyes widen.

  “What?” I question. He must have misspoken.

  “She needs help—real help. It’ll be temporary, just until she’s more . . . stable. For now, she doesn’t want Charlotte or Richard to know so I’d be grateful if you didn’t tell them,” he explains. I open my mouth before closing it.

  Don’t they have the right to know? Lilith is their daughter.

  “She agreed to this?” I slowly ask. Is it her idea to be . . . admitted?

  “She did,” Duke informs me. What can I say if it is her choice? “She’s scared,” he mutters, one of his hands curling into a fist. He’s scared, too—scared for her. “She knows she’s slipping, and she wants to catch herself for the first time in her life. I won’t deny her.”

  He is going to do whatever is necessary for her because he loves her. At the end of the day, no matter what hell or high water comes, he loves her. I am sure there are days when it isn’t enough for either one of them, but he just clings to the only truth that matters. He loves her.

  He is hers. Maybe she is his.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” I tell him, my heart heavy.

  “Likewise,” he speaks. We both know, in a bind, we can count on each other. Whatever help he needs, I will give. If I need his assistance, he will be more than willing to extend a hand. “I’d better go help Lilith pack.”

  Together, we enter the house before parting ways. I find Mother in Everett’s former studio, staring at a painting I can’t see. Walking to her side, I pause, inhaling sharply. It feels as if my heart is being clenched in a tight fist.

  “He left it for me,” Mother whispers.

  He is Everett. It is the painting we peer at.

  Mason is holding an unknown bundle close to his chest. My brother wears a smile, so like the one he always wore in real life when he was about to do something outrageous. There is love burning in his gaze, a hot focus that tells a story without words.

  This is Mason—not as my brother but a father.

  “He would have been a good father,” I whisper.

  Mason would have taken after our own father. It is a shame Maximum will never know Mason’s love. Maybe we can make up for that absence, but it won’t be the same. Every child needs a father and this one, Mason’s child, will never have a proper one—the one that it shares blood with.

  Mother laughs, a soft sound that is half filled with grief and something else I can’t define. “He would have been terrible. The babe would be spoiled, forever in trouble, always a moment from making a mess . . . but I suppose that is children.”

  I scoff. “I was a delightful child.”

  “You are the reason I almost didn’t have more children. Richard convinced me none could be so bad as you. He was right, as usual,” she retorts, reaching out to lay her fingers against the painting.

  “I’m telling him you said that,” I tease. Father will delight in her admission.

  “Go ahead. I can persuade him to forget,” she teases in return, pressing her palm against Mason’s cheek. She misses him. We all miss him.

  I shiver. “That is gross.”

  “Good,” she says, her voice a sad laugh. I shake my head. We are both silent for a time. “I think it’s time for your father and me to go home.”

  “Duke and Lilith are returning to the city,” I tell her,
swallowing the urge to confess why they are leaving so soon. It isn’t my place to tell her about Lilith’s choices.

  “Should we take Sophia?” Mother questions.

  “Probably,” I say after a moment of thought. “I am going to be busy.” There is work to be done. I will have no time to entertain my little sister, and without Mason, she will quickly bore. Just her will make Mason’s absence all the more noticeable, too.

  I can’t handle her right now, not on top of everything else.

  “You’ll come visit soon,” she states. Of course, it isn’t a question. It is an expectation.

  “Once things settle,” I agree.

  “Maybe we can have the Dawson's over for dinner,” she suggests, turning from the painting.

  “Maybe.” There is no reason not to share a meal with them. In the coming years, we will see them a lot because of Maximum, because I am determined to keep them close so Necropolis can finally have some much-deserved peace.

  “I’ll let you know if we make any plans. For now, I better help your father pack,” she says.

  I kiss her temple before letting her leave.

  My gaze moves back to the painting when I am alone. Inspecting it, my heart feels no better. We lost so much. Everyone lost so much, and I am giving up what anyone would kill for without a fight. I am letting Everett go, despite the fact I love him, because . . . love isn’t enough.

  Is Duke right? I don’t know. I just . . . don’t.

  Closing my eyes, I inhale.

  Everett . . . I love him.

  He betrayed me. I know how sorry he is, how he regrets his choices.

  If given a chance, he would change what happened.

  Maybe he wouldn’t have married me.

  The thought makes me sick. Despite the things that have happened, the hell that has befallen us all, I wouldn’t give up those good months in which we lived and loved.

  Am I not giving up a lifetime of good months by just letting him go, by being unwilling to fight?

  “Ben!” I call, knowing he isn’t far. He could be halfway across the house and he would still hear me.