Page 41 of New Year with the Cartel

"You already are," I assured him while ruffling his hair, though my voice remained stern. "But strength without control is useless." A lesson I'd learned too late in life, one he would learn earlier.

We continued the lesson, my attention never wavering. Gustall stayed close, our synchronized movements born from years of trust and understanding each other. Other parents watched from a distance, both afraid and fascinated by our dynamic.

Let them watch. Let them see how a predator protects his own,I thought.

"Better," I praised as Reyvan completed another lap. My son beamed at the rare compliment, his pride radiating off him in waves.

"He's going to be a handful when he's older," Gustall observed quietly, but I knew he actually liked knowing that, as did I.

"Good." I smiled, knowing it probably looked more threatening than reassuring to onlookers. "The world needs to be ready for him."

Reyvan swam to me, bypassing Gustall's outstretched arms. His preference for me was clear, though he loved his omega father deeply. He was simply drawn to the darkness in me, the same darkness that flowed in his veins.

My darkness wasn't the same as it had been in the past. It had diminished and transformed over time, much like the darkness in Reyvan.

"Enough for today," I decided, lifting him out of the pool in one fluid motion that displayed more strength than necessary. A reminder to everyone watching that my gentleness with my son was a choice, not a limitation.

"But Father—"

"Listen to your father," Gustall interrupted, his eyes signaling to our child that disagreement would not be tolerated. "There's always tomorrow."

As we dried off, I caught glimpses of other parents' expressions—fear mixed with grudging admiration. They saw a dangerous man who'd learned to be gentle without losing his edge. A predator who'd chosen to nurture without surrendering his fangs.

They were right to remain wary. I might have chosen a different path, but I was still the alpha who'd commanded the Nightshade Wolves. Still the man whose name made hardened criminals tremble.

I would never hide the person I'd once been. If people asked me about it, I'd always tell them everything. I didn't have anything to hide anymore, which was refreshing.

"Ice cream?" Reyvan asked as we headed for the exit, the crowd parting before us like water around a shark.

"After dinner," Gustall and I said in unison, earning a scowl from our son that promised future rebellion.

Ice cream wasn't good for him every day, obviously. While he didn't understand that now, he would soon enough—and when he did, he would thank us.

Then, I smiled again, feeling the other parents' fear spike at the expression. And I thought there was nothing wrong with that. They should remember what I was, even as they watched what I'd become.

Some things changed. Others never would.

And that was exactly as it should be.

Gustall's Epilogue

Around 10 years later…

I adjusted the silver chain in my hands, watching the ancient symbols shift and dance. Even after all these years, the necklace's power still amazed me. There was something about it that would never change. I had realized that long ago, and to this day, it continued to prove itself true time and time again.

Reyvan sat across from me in my office, his dark eyes—so like his father's—fixed on the artifact with intense curiosity. He had a few suspicions regarding its origins, but not much else.

"So, this is what brought you and Father together?" He probed, his deep voice another reminder of how much he'd grown. Sometimes I missed my little boy, but I was proud of the young man he'd become. Such was life.

"In every lifetime," I smiled, letting the memories wash over me. "Though your father didn't make it easy in this one."

"Because he was controlling?" Reyvan's directness, another trait inherited from Fendwyr, always cut straight to the heart ofmatters. There were some things I wished he hadn't inherited from his alpha dad.

"Because we both had to learn about trust," I corrected, setting the necklace down. "There's—"

The door to my office burst open. I looked up, expecting Fendwyr or perhaps one of our business associates. Instead, my heart stopped. This couldn't be happening. Not after so many years.

My parents stood in the doorway, aged but unmistakable. I could never have mistaken them for someone else. They looked exactly as cold and judgmental as they had the day they threw me out.

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