by Aria Grace
Sadie stifles a yawn and reaches for the coffee pot. "What are you looking at over there?" She nods toward my phone as she begins dumping far too much sugar into her coffee cup.
"Trying to find something fun for Father's Day...you know Reynard's never gotten to celebrate it. So I want to do something special..." My voice trails off and I shake my head. "I think he still feels like an outsider, you know?"
Sadie frowns at me. "You've seen how he is with Pearl and Kit. I doubt he feels like an outsider."
"No, I mean. Just in general." I chew my lip thoughtfully as I try to think of the right words to explain. "He's still the Prince of Loremstein. He still carries his father's expectations with him wherever he goes. He doesn't seem to ever fully relax, even when it's just us here at home."
"Your alpha is a prince," Sadie reminds me. "He's always going to be a prince on some level. You can't change that."
"I don't want to change it. I just want him to feel comfortable putting down the crown from time to time."
She raises an eyebrow. "And you think Father's Day is going to change that?"
"I honestly don't know, but I hope it helps."
49
Reynard
The sun is shining overhead, and the sky is clear. Blue skies smile down at me and there's not even a breath of wind. It’s sweltering in this suit and sweat is beginning to bead down my brow. We’re barely in the middle of June. Why the hell is it already so hot?
Flynn would laugh if he could see me right now. He'd tell me this is nothing and then tease me for getting so sweaty on such a "cool" day. The thought of his laugh puts a smile on my face. I didn't think it was possible for me to fall in love with a sound, but I absolutely have. Flynn's laughter makes my heart light.
With a deep breath, I look around at the empty lot for a second time. It's located on a busy street corner in an older part of the city. The whole area has been getting a facelift and the cost of property has skyrocketed. I only managed to close the deal on this particular lot because I had a personal connection to the previous owner.
It's not much, but it’s got a lot of potential.
The location is perfect for anything from a boutique shop, to apartments, to an office building. Quite frankly, I haven't made up my mind yet on what I’ll do with it.
My business partners in this particular venture are all standing nearby discussing the future of the lot. One of them has suggested turning it into a park of all things. The others are not at all convinced. There's a lot of arguing, but I'm not getting myself involved in any of it.
Actually, if I'm being perfectly honest, I'm not even completely focused on the present situation. The roar of traffic nearby, the heated conversation of my companions, pedestrians walking past on the sidewalk, none of it is really reaching me. Instead, my thoughts are being dragged back to the conversation in the kitchen this morning.
Father's Day.
I've honestly been avoiding the conversation for a while now. Ever since people in my social circle started talking about their plans for the holiday, that is. I knew Flynn would want to do something special. He asks me every year and I’ve managed to avoid it so far.
Usually, I'm the one making big plans for parties or holiday celebrations, but not this time. Not for Father's Day.
The truth is, my father was always really distant. That’s not surprising since he’s the King of Loremstein. He was always busy, and when he wasn’t, my older siblings got the majority of his attention since they were either directly in line to succeed him or were positioned to take on roles in the government. I was always on the outside looking in.
I don't have much experience with healthy father-son relationships. At least not until I met Flynn. His relationship with Kit is pretty much perfect. Kit's a great kid, gets solid grades, has tons of friends, and doesn't mouth off. He's also been an amazing older brother to Pearl. Which is the complete opposite of what I was when I was his age.
But, I'm not his dad.
We're friends. Comrades. We're family, but not like we’d be if we were blood. Nothing will ever come between Kit's relationship with Flynn. Nothing. And that’s how it should be.
And for his part, it came down to it, Flynn would always choose Kit over me. That’s just how those relationships are supposed to work.
That’s especially true for Flynn and Kit. It was just the two of them for a really long time, and Kit is the most important thing in Flynn's life. He's never made a secret of that. When we all became a family, I thought it would get easier for me. That I'd understand where I fit in the pecking order and just accept that that's the way things are.
But it still gets to me sometimes.
Despite the fact that we've been together for a while, and we have a daughter together, I still feel like I'm on the outside of the inseparable duo that is Flynn and Kit. To make it worse, I feel guilty for even thinking that. What kind of alpha am I? I should be thinking of ways to use this holiday to celebrate my omega, instead of feeling sorry for myself.
This is "Father's" Day after all. That's for both alphas and omegas.
If Flynn wants to make a big deal out of this, I can do that.
"Hey, Reynard? You wanna weigh in on this?" One of my business partners calls out to get my attention, snapping me back to reality.
"Just send me your proposals, and I'll look over them this weekend." I wave my hand dismissively. I'm glad I retained controlling interest in this project because these guys are never going to reach any kind of agreement on their own. In the end, I'll probably end up doing some sort of combination of ideas. A multi-use building with a lot of green space to give it that park-like vibe. Something upscale that will attract a lot of foot traffic and stand out as a landmark.
"I need to go pick up Kit." I glance at my watch to make sure I’m not late. His swim practice will be over soon, and I promised we'd go get milkshakes after.
It's a hasty retreat, but I'm feeling a bit desperate to escape the stuffiness of my suit. As soon as there’s a break in the traffic, I jog across the street to the spot where I parked my car. Once I'm inside, I crank the AC and breathe a sigh of relief. It's days like today that make me miss Loremstein. A "hot" day there is seventy degrees Fahrenheit. On the rare occasion that it spikes above that, everything shuts down and people flee to the mountains where there's always snow on the ground.
I yank off my tie, pop the top two buttons on my shirt, and loosen my collar. Now that I can finally breathe, I realize my business partners are standing, speechless, in the middle of the empty lot across the street. They're staring at me in complete silence, wide-eyed and utterly baffled by my sudden exit.
Dammit. Clenching my jaw, I force myself not to look at them. I’ll iron things out with them later. It's not like they're going to back out of a deal as lucrative as this one just because I’m being weird today.
After starting the car, I pull out into traffic and let myself get swept away by the rhythm of the city.
It's not like me to bail on a business meeting like that. Especially considering Kit's swim practice doesn't end for another thirty minutes, and it only takes me five minutes of driving to get over to the rec center where his team meets. The lot isn’t packed, so I find a parking spot way faster than I anticipated and just sit there, anxiously drumming my hands on the steering wheel.
I could just wait in the car until practice is over. Kit usually meets me out front anyway.
But my head's a mess, and I want to stretch my legs. I climb back out of the car and head inside. The swimming pool is pretty big, and Kit's swim team gets exclusive use of it a few times a week in order to practice. There’s a big meet coming up next week that he's been chattering about almost constantly. I have to admit, I'm curious to see his skills firsthand.
Without being noticed, I slip into the pool area and join the small group of parents who stuck around to watch the practice. Each person is focused on their own child, so I'm able to stay mostly hidden at the back of the group.
I pull out my phone to send a quick text to Flynn. He deserves to know his son is something of a prodigy in the water. Before I can start typing, there's a commotion from the direction of the pool. My head snaps up in time to see Kit tussling with another boy in the water. There's an angry shout from the coach, and both boys quickly separate and swim in opposite directions.
"There Kit goes again, starting more fights," one of the parents mutters.
"He's too overly dramatic," another parent agrees. "The coach gives him too much attention, and the rest of the team suffers because of it. No wonder the other kids are frustrated."
"You'd think he'd just learn to keep his head down instead of showing off all the time," the first parent adds.
Anger boils in my veins, and I'm instantly filled with an inexplicable desire to punch one of these chattering morons across the room. It takes all my strength to contain myself and square my shoulders so I don’t explode. I rise up to my full height, which far surpasses any of the other parents. "Excuse me, but I couldn't help overhearing you talk about my son."
The looks on their faces as they turn toward me sends a small ripple of pleasure down my spine. They weren't expecting anyone to stand up for Kit. They look simultaneously ashamed and defensive.
I shift my gaze between the two who were speaking, daring either of them to say another word.
They don't. Instead, they roll their eyes at me and quickly shuffle away.
"I'm glad you said something," a middle-aged alpha says, approaching me after they left. "The two of them talk shit about Kit every week. Their kid is the one that's usually picking fights with the others on the team. I'm sure Kit's told you all about it. I'm Paul, by the way. Peter's dad."
I vaguely remember Kit mentioning Peter a few times in the past, but I don't remember a single word about fighting. "Nice to meet you," I say, shaking Paul's hand. "I'm Reynard."
"Ah, the Prince of Loremstein," Paul says with a chuckle. "Kit talks about you a lot. He's got Peter talking about how cool it would be to take a trip to Loremstein someday."
I smile politely, but the truth is, I feel like an impostor. I'm standing here with the other parents, talking to one of Kit's friends' dads like I belong. As fun as it was to scare off those poisonous, shit-talkers, I'm starting to wonder if I made the right call coming here.
"So, what brings you in today?" Paul is being friendly and I definitely appreciate the effort he's making.
"I just wanted to see his skills for myself," I admit. "They've got that meet coming up, and I realized I've never actually seen him swim before."
"He's amazing really, like a duck in water." Paul laughs and gestures to the pool where the kids are lining up on the edge for one last lap. "He's a sweet kid too. He took the time to help Peter figure out the butterfly stroke even when he didn't have to. Unfortunately, he's unseated the former king of the pool." Paul nods to the kid Kit had been fighting with earlier. "That's Freddie, and he's pissed Kit keeps breaking all his records."
“Not much for sportsmanship, huh?” I narrow my eyes at Freddie, wishing he could feel my annoyance through my gaze alone.
"I'm sure Kit's told you all about him." Paul cocks his head as he watches the kids. "To be perfectly honest, I'm glad you came in today. After their last practice, Peter said he thinks Freddie is planning to do something to hurt Kit."
Alarm shoots through me, but I manage to keep my face calm. "Have things gotten violent before?"
"Some minor scuffles," Paul says, shrugging his shoulders. "But Freddie wants Kit out of the way before the next meet. I honestly don't know if that's just Peter overreacting to something he’s heard of if we need to take it seriously." Paul looks at me with concern in his eyes. "There's not much the coach can actually do right now. It's summer, school's out, and most parents just drop their kids off with him like he's some glorified babysitter. The only parents who consistently show up to every single practice are Freddie's, and they'll defend him until they're blue in the face."
"And they clearly dislike Kit." I purse my lips as I consider the situation here. It’s completely unlike anything I was expecting when I walked in. I feel wholly unqualified to deal with bullies, but I definitely don't want to alarm Flynn until I know what’s really going on here. As long as I keep my eye on Kit today, everything should be okay.
The practice ends without further incident and the kids head into the locker room to get changed. I'm not able to wave Kit down before he disappears from sight, so I have to wait by the door, despite my gut telling me that I should go check on him. I'm not his real dad, and I don't want him to think I'm barging in where I don't belong, but something doesn’t feel right.
One by one, the kids start filing out of the locker room, and my shoulders visibly relax when I see Freddie, the bully, exit the locker before everyone else. He quickly joins his parents as they usher him out the door, shooting me an ice-cold glare as they depart.
Peter emerges soon after, and Paul bids me farewell as they head out.
After a few minutes, I'm one of the only people left standing by the pool, with no sign of Kit.
I bite my lip until I taste copper. I can't wait any longer. Something must've happened.
Striding toward the locker room, terrible scenarios race through my mind. I freeze mid-step when Kit exits, fully dressed and ready to leave. He looks shocked to see me, but the shock doesn’t disguise the redness of his cheeks and his puffy eyes. He's definitely been crying.
"Hi, Rey. I didn't know you were here," he says, wiping his nose on his sleeve. "I was just about to text you." He shifts his gym bag on his shoulder and tries to pretend nothing's wrong.
"I...um...I wanted to see you swim." I wish I knew what to say without stepping over any boundaries. "You've been so excited about it, so I wanted to snap some pictures of the practice for your dad."
Kit's complexion pales, and he looks up at me with concern. "So, you've been here for a while?"
"Why don't we go get that milkshake I promised you? We can talk."
50
Flynn
"I think that's everything." I carry my freshly purchased craft supplies indoors.
Sadie is standing in the living room with a look of disbelief on her face. "Did you buy everything in the store?"
There are quite a few bags clustered across the floor, but I don't think it's really all that much. "I mean, I cut out some of the projects I had planned. We're not going to be making the family door mat or the throw rug. Those are both too time consuming, I think. But we’re definitely doing the placemats. I can get them laminated for a really good price once we finish decorating them."
“You’re serious, aren’t you?”
I grin gleefully and look up at Sadie as she shakes her head.
"I thought you just went to get plaster of paris for the handprints..." Her voice trails off as she meets my gaze.
"Well, sure, but those won't take that long. There's plenty of time in the day. The handprints, placemats, then t-shirts. I've got a bunch of extra stuff for a few other projects in case we've got time. There's a Father's Day lunch special tomorrow that I want to hit, and then our favorite Mexican restaurant is doing a Father's Day dinner special. So that's two meals taken care of. Just gotta figure out breakfast. I did pick up some pancake mix and more orange juice because we were out..."
I start digging through the bags until I find the jug of OJ.
As I carry it to the fridge, Sadie clucks her tongue at me. "We've got three jugs of OJ, Flynn. It's milk we're out of." She sighs. "Why didn't you just text me?"
My expression falls as I open the refrigerator door and see the multiple jugs of orange juice sittin
g proudly on the shelf. "Well, I guess we don't have to worry about scurvy." I squeeze the new bottle into the fridge and realize I've been running around like an idiot ever since talking to Reynard this morning. "Sadie, what am I even doing?"
I look over at my sister as she holds out her arms for me. "You're doing your best. No one can blame you for getting a little caught up in things."
I take a deep breath and look around at all the craft supplies still sitting in their bags. "Reynard doesn't even like crafts."
"Not unless it involves power tools or Christmas lights," Sadie confirms.
"Shit." I chuckle dryly.
"Listen, Flynn, the handprint thing is a good idea. It's a simple craft and it creates something you guys will cherish forever. We've still got the one you made when you were a baby...somewhere." She shrugs and looks up at the ceiling, suggesting it's probably in a box in the attic.
"And we can order takeout for dinner," I continue. "Just like always."
"Really, why mess with tradition?"
"I just want this to be special for Reynard. He's done so much for us, and it's really important to me that he realizes he’s a part of this family." I look up at her with frustration in my eyes. "The way he talks about the kids sometimes...I know he loves them. I know he'd do anything for them. But I feel like he thinks he doesn't belong. Like, they're my kids, and he doesn't deserve to be involved too deeply with their lives."
"Have you asked him about it?"
"No," I admit. "I know I should."
"Well, now's your chance," she says at the sound of Reynard's car pulling into the driveway.
A moment later, the car door slams, rapidly followed by angry footsteps pounding across the front porch. The door is ripped open and Kit storms inside with all the fury of a hurricane. He doesn't stop to acknowledge Sadie or me. Stomping across the living room, he charges up the stairs, before slamming the door to his room.
