Lycan — 29 (Patreon)

Author's note: Hello everyone, here is a new chapter! Right where we left off. Let me know what you think!

Harry leaned against the wall outside their bedroom, the weight of the news pressing down on him like a boulder. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his head hung low as he stared at the floorboards, searching for words he didn’t even know how to begin. How could he tell her? How could he say that the man who, despite his flaws, was her last link to family was now gone—and in such a horrific way?

He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay rooted there, though every instinct screamed at him to walk away and give himself more time. Time for what? Zion growled in his head, unrelenting. This isn’t about you. She needs to know, Harry.

The sound of footsteps drew his attention, and Harry looked up to see Niall approaching, his expression filled with quiet concern. “You’re still standing here?” Niall asked softly, stopping just short of him. “You need to tell her.”

Harry shook his head, his eyes clouded with frustration. “I can’t,” he admitted, his voice strained. “She’s already lost so much. I know he wasn’t... he wasn’t a good father. He was barely even there for her. But he was there, Niall. He existed. And now... now she’s got no one.”

“She’s got you,” Niall reminded him firmly. “You and the pack. She’s not alone, Harry, and you need to make sure she knows that.”

Harry exhaled sharply, his hands running through his curls in agitation. “It’s not the same. Blood is blood, no matter how messed up it is. He was her father. And now she’s going to feel even lonelier than she already does. She’s going to feel like the universe is punishing her.”

Niall placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder, grounding him. “You’re not responsible for her pain, but you are responsible for helping her through it. Don’t avoid this. She deserves to hear it from you.”

Harry swallowed hard, nodding reluctantly. His chest felt heavy as he turned to face the door, his hand hovering over the handle. Inside, he could sense her presence, the faint shuffle of her movements. She didn’t know what was coming, and that made it all the harder.

Zion’s voice cut through his hesitation, firm and commanding. "She needs you to be strong now, Harry. For her. For both of you."

Taking a steadying breath, Harry finally pushed the door open, stepping into the room. The soft light cast a warm glow, but it did little to ease the cold knot in his stomach. Y/N was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking up as he entered, her eyes filled with curiosity and a touch of concern.

“Harry?” she asked gently, sensing something was wrong.

He stood there for a moment, his throat tight as he tried to summon the words. “Y/N,” he began softly, his voice almost breaking, “we need to talk.”

Y/N’s gaze met Harry’s, her brows knitting together in worry as she caught the gravity in his expression. She stood from the bed, her movements hesitant but purposeful. “Did you catch him?” she asked, her voice laced with both hope and dread.

Harry shook his head slowly, the weight of his answer hanging heavy in the air. “No,” he said softly, his tone steady but strained. “We didn’t. But... we found another body.”

Y/N froze, her lips parting slightly as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words. She stared at him, her breathing quickening as she processed his words. “Another body?” she repeated, almost in disbelief.

He nodded, taking a cautious step toward her. “It was Robert,” he said finally, his voice quieter now. “He’s... he’s gone, Y/N.”

Her reaction wasn’t immediate. For a moment, she seemed frozen in place, her mind racing to catch up with the reality of his words. Harry watched her closely, searching for any sign of her emotions, something—anything—through their bond. But there was nothing. It was as if she’d gone completely silent inside, and the absence of any feeling struck him harder than he anticipated.

“Y/N?” he said gently, moving closer. “I don’t think you need to know the... details. Just that he’s—”

“Dead,” she interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. She blinked, her hands trembling slightly as she brought them to her sides. “He’s dead.”

Harry hesitated, unsure whether to reach for her or give her space. He could feel Zion pacing in his mind, urging him to act, to comfort her, but the blankness he felt from their bond made him hesitate. He hated it—the void, the wall she’d unknowingly put up.

“I’m sorry,” he said earnestly, his voice filled with the weight of his regret. “I know he wasn’t... he wasn’t perfect, but he was still your father.”

Y/N didn’t respond right away. Her gaze fell to the floor as her hands fidgeted at her sides. “I... don’t know what to feel,” she admitted after a long silence, her voice shaky. “I don’t know if I should cry, or scream, or—” She cut herself off, shaking her head as she wrapped her arms around herself.

Harry took another step forward, his instincts finally overriding his hesitation. “You don’t have to feel anything right now,” he said softly, his tone soothing. “There’s no right or wrong way to handle this.”

She glanced up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “It’s just... it’s so much,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I don’t even know how to start unpacking it all.”

He finally closed the distance between them, resting a hand on her shoulder. “You don’t have to do it alone,” he assured her. “I’m here. You’re not alone in this, Y/N.”

She nodded weakly, but her expression remained distant. Harry could still feel the emptiness between them, the bond eerily quiet. It worried him, but he knew better than to push.

Y/N’s voice broke the heavy silence. “Can I see him?” she asked suddenly, her tone trembling but resolute. She looked up at Harry, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and determination.

Harry froze, his hand hovering over her shoulder before settling on her hair in a comforting gesture. “Y/N...” he began, his voice gentle but firm. “I don’t think that’s the best idea.”

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she stepped back, shaking her head. “Harry, I have to. If I don’t see him, if I don’t—” She paused, her voice catching. “If I don’t see for myself that he’s gone, I’ll convince myself he’s just missing. And that... that would terrify me even more.”

Harry frowned, his heart aching at the pain etched across her face. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch light yet steady. “I understand why you feel that way,” he said, his tone calm, trying to soothe the storm brewing within her. “But you need to trust me on this. It’s not something you want to see.”

Her eyes filled with tears as she clenched her fists at her sides. “Harry, please,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “I need to know. I need to feel it, to accept it, or else I’ll never stop looking over my shoulder. I’ll never stop wondering.”

Harry let out a slow breath, torn between his instincts to protect her and his desire to honor her wishes. Zion stirred in his mind, urging caution, but Harry silenced his wolf. “Y/N...” He hesitated, cupping her face in his hands. “It’s not just about what you’ll see—it’s about what it’ll do to you. What you’re asking for... it’s not easy.”

“I know it’s not,” she said, her voice firmer now. “But I need closure, Harry. Please.”

Harry studied her for a long moment, his emerald eyes scanning hers, searching for any sign of doubt. He didn’t find any. Finally, he nodded reluctantly, his hands sliding down to rest on her shoulders. “Alright,” he murmured, his voice heavy. “But I’ll be with you the entire time. And if it gets too much, you tell me, and we leave. Do you understand?”

She nodded, a tear slipping down her cheek. “Thank you.”

He wiped it away with his thumb, his touch lingering. “I’ll take care of you,” he promised, his voice low but resolute. “I always will.”

It was strange, almost surreal. Y/N couldn't quite grasp the whirlwind of emotions coursing through her. Her tears flowed freely, yet she couldn’t determine if they were born from grief, anger, or relief. She was mourning the man who had tormented her mother and herself, the man who had left bruises not only on their skin but also on their souls. The same man who had broken her mother until standing or speaking had become impossible for her.

And yet... a piece of her felt like it had been torn away. It wasn’t love she felt for him—not in the slightest—but the finality of his death stirred something unnameable inside her, like a door slamming shut on a painful chapter she’d never been fully ready to close.

Harry’s hand tightened around her waist, his arm wrapping securely across her frame. His warmth seeped into her as he held her close, his chest solid and unyielding against her. He wasn’t just comforting her—he was shielding her, as though his presence alone could protect her from the storm of emotions tearing her apart. He rested his chin lightly on her head, his breath steady and grounding, offering her the quiet strength she needed but didn’t know how to ask for.

“I’m here,” he murmured softly, his voice rumbling low in his chest. “Let it out. You don’t have to hold anything back.”

She wanted to. She wanted to scream and cry, to let every memory of her father’s cruelty spill out of her like poison. But all she could manage was to lean further into Harry’s embrace, seeking solace in the unwavering stability of the man who had somehow become her safe place amidst all this chaos.

Harry’s voice was gentle but firm as he broke the silence, his fingers brushing lightly along her arm to ground her. “Michaela’s almost finished with the autopsy,” he said, his words cautious as though testing the waters. “Later, if you still want, we can go see him”.

Y/N’s breath hitched, and she shook her head slightly, her voice trembling. “I need to get out of here, Harry. I feel like... like I’m suffocating.”

His brow furrowed, the bond between them resonating with her emotions. Without hesitation, he offered, “Come on. Let’s take a walk through the pack. Some fresh air might help.”

She hesitated for a moment but nodded, her chest feeling marginally lighter at the idea of escaping the walls that seemed to close in around her. Harry took her hand in his, their fingers interlacing naturally, and led her out of the pack house. They stepped into the crisp evening air, the cool breeze carrying with it the subtle scents of pine and earth.

They walked side by side through the quiet streets of the pack town, their steps falling into a rhythm. The houses, each glowing softly with the warmth of lamplight, lined the paths they traversed. The occasional sound of laughter or murmured conversation drifted from within, a reminder of life continuing despite the tragedy.

They didn’t speak, but they didn’t need to. The silence between them was heavy with unspoken words, yet it wasn’t uncomfortable. Y/N glanced down at their interwoven fingers and felt a small flicker of comfort amidst her turmoil. Harry’s hand was steady, his grip neither too tight nor too loose, but just enough to anchor her.

She looked up at him once, his face calm yet watchful, and she realized that his quiet presence was saying everything she needed to hear. I’m here. I’ve got you.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N allowed herself to lean into that reassurance. Their silence became a language of its own, and Harry, without uttering a single word, said all the right things.

As they strolled past the small shop nestled on the corner, Y/N’s gaze fell on its familiar awning, the faint scent of blended fruits wafting through the air. Her lips curved into a faint smile. “I came here last time” she said softly, tugging Harry’s hand. “Want to grab a smoothie?”

Harry glanced at the shop, his own expression softening. “Sure,” he said with a small nod, following her lead as they joined the short line of patrons. The hum of chatter filled the space, the warmth of nostalgia settling over Y/N as she glanced around at the brightly colored menu and the buzz of the blender behind the counter.

As they waited, pack members would stop by, their greetings cheerful despite the weight that seemed to cling to the day. “Alpha,” one man said with a respectful nod, his gaze briefly sliding to Y/N with curiosity. Others followed, their brief conversations pulling Harry away bit by bit.

Y/N watched him with a small smile as he effortlessly balanced paying for their order and politely answering the pack’s questions. There was something steady and reassuring about the way he commanded attention without even trying.

Her attention was pulled away when she caught movement outside the shop window. Her eyes landed on a figure she instantly recognized—Aiden. He stood just beyond the shop, his hands tucked casually in his jacket pockets, his sharp features softened by a faint smile.

He lifted a hand, a subtle wave meant just for her. Her heart stuttered briefly, caught off guard. She blinked, glancing over her shoulder to see if Harry had noticed, but he was still deep in conversation at the counter.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before raising her own hand in acknowledgment, her movements slow and unsure. Aiden’s smile deepened as he tilted his head slightly, motioning for her to step outside. She glanced back at Harry, who was handing over money and thanking the cashier, before turning toward the door. Curiosity and a strange sense of familiarity pulled her forward.

What’s he doing here? she wondered as she pushed open the door and stepped out into the cool evening air.

Aiden was leaning casually against a lamppost, his sharp features illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights. When he saw her approach, his face broke into a charming smile.

“Y/N,” he greeted, his voice smooth and warm, as if they were old friends meeting again after years apart.

“Aiden,” she replied with a soft smile, stepping closer. Before she could overthink it, she gave him a quick hug. His arms wrapped around her briefly, and she couldn’t ignore how his nose seemed to linger near her neck for just a second too long. The hug ended, but the faint trace of her scent seemed to cling to him, and Aiden’s eyes darkened slightly as he stepped back.

“You smell…” He hesitated, searching for the right word. “Sweet. Like honey and wildflowers. It’s… intoxicating.”

Y/N blinked at the odd compliment but shook it off. “How are you, Aiden? I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He leaned back, his casual demeanor masking something deeper. “I could say the same. It’s a surprise to see you out and about, considering how things have been around here. How are you holding up?”

She shrugged, glancing back at the shop briefly to make sure Harry was still distracted. “I’m fine, I guess. Things have been... complicated. Security’s been tight lately, especially with everything that’s been happening.”

Aiden nodded, his expression sympathetic. “Yeah, I heard about today’s murder. It’s terrifying. Another body found—it’s like this town can’t catch a break.”

Her stomach twisted, and she glanced at him sharply. “Wait… you know about that?” she asked cautiously.

Aiden raised a brow, his cool smile unwavering. “Doesn’t everyone? News like that spreads like wildfire.”

Her heart thudded in her chest. She hadn’t thought much of it at first, but now it hit her like a ton of bricks—how did Aiden know? The discovery of the body hadn’t been disclosed to the public yet. Only pack members and a few select individuals were aware.

Y/N forced a casual tone into her voice, her pulse quickening. “Yeah… I guess it would.”

Aiden’s gaze lingered on her for a moment too long, his smile never faltering. “Anyway, I’m glad to see you’re doing well. Stay safe out there, alright? You never know who might be watching.”

The cryptic note in his voice sent a shiver down her spine, but she managed a small nod. “Yeah… you too.”

As Aiden stepped back into the shadows, disappearing into the night, Y/N felt her legs tremble. She turned and hurried back into the shop, her mind racing with questions.