Page 124 of Red River

I glanced at him, sensing a shift in his mood. There was something a little solemn in his voice.

"You know, my father wasn’t a natural leader. He was super laid-back—a typical rocker, an artist. He believed in ‘let’s do it together’ leadership. He called our house a ‘beautiful chaos’. ButI didn’t see it that way. I wanted him to step up sometimes—to just say no and set some kind of order. Our home was loud, always chaotic—boys running wild. My parents thought that was normal, just kids being kids, but the truth is… not everyone thrived in that kind of environment."

He tilted his head slightly, lost in thought. "I argued with him about it a lot. Once, I even told him that because he wouldn’t enforce any structure, some of us were suffering. It hit him hard, but he didn’t know how to tackle it."

So… The conversation had taken a more serious turn. River usually didn’t like talking about his family, so why was he bringing it up now?

"Suffering how? What do you mean?"

River’s eyes drifted down to where the boys were practicing. When he spoke again, his voice was a bit rueful.

"The shy kids or the nervous ones—the ones who weren’t naturally loud or combative—were pushed aside. The more dominant, aggressive ones took over. And when there’s no strong, stable leader, those who rise to power are usually the most chaotic and unhinged. It’s not healthy."

"That’s right. It gets brutal, like jungle law," I said. "The weaker ones get trampled."

"Exactly. And I was… the shy, nervous one in the midst of all the chaos."

"Your parents probably thought traditional parenting was too strict and wanted to give you guys more freedom. Some people believe that’s what a good childhood looks like."

River sighed. "I do see the upsides. We did have a ton of freedom. They almost never forced us to do anything. Everything was a choice—no household chores, no crazy pressure to get good grades. But there was one summer when my outlook on it all changed drastically." River shot me ameaningful glance. "My uncle Van stayed with us for a few months. And that was the best summer of my entire life."

"Uncle Van? The ex-cop?"

"Yeah. He came into our house full of chaos and immediately brought order—the kind we’d never had before. And for me, those were the most peaceful, happiest months of my childhood. No more constant fights, no more hunting for Storm, no more screaming matches, no more of Bay’s unfair playing, no more of Winter’s painful jabs. And he protected me, Archer! He recognized my needs—maybe years of being a police officer trained him to be more observant of people… I’m sure some of my brothers hated it because Uncle Van actually made them do things—chores, responsibilities, structured activities. If they got too wild, he shut it down. But for the first time, I could actually relax. I didn’t have to brace myself for whatever disaster was about to explode next."

River slowly turned toward me, his face wistful.

"Your father allowed Uncle Van to take over like that?"

"My father was on a long tour at the time, organized for the thirtieth anniversary of the band he used to play in. He and Dad invited Uncle Van for that very reason—they knew they would rarely be home."

River’s face was somewhat stirred, his breathing a bit shallow.

"So that was the moment I realized there were other ways to live—ways that vibed better with me. I just… couldn’t go back, Archer. That’s when I started dreaming about leaving home."

I listened closely, watching the way River wrestled with his thoughts—the love and respect he had for his parents versus how he personally felt, the way his soul craved something different.

Finally, I said, "I think some children wouldn’t do well in a strict, structured household. I believe Lake is one of them—he seems like the kind of kid who already has his own sense oforder. Other children need structure because it makes them feel safe, gives them something solid to rely on. There’s no perfect way to parent. Every method has its pros and cons. It has to be tailored to each kid, individualized."

River gazed up at the cloudy sky behind the window and took a deep breath.

"You’re quite observant. Yes, Lake is independent. That’s probably how it should be—approaching kids in an individual way. But… it didn’t work like that in our house. That was part of why I ran away with Thomas. I used to vent to him about my chaotic family—even before I decided to be with him. Seeing me distressed awakened a certain protective instinct in him, and he promised to give me my dream life: stability, a strong, providing alpha who would handle everything, take care of the messy stuff so I could just breathe and focus on raising a family. But… my parents saw through him. They knew the truth—about his three bankrupt businesses, about the fact that he was faking it. And they were right. Thomas couldn’t deliver what he promised."

River locked his eyes onto mine. There was something challenging in that look, like he was daring me to respond.

Silence settled between us.

"River," I said after a moment, "it’s very possible that Thomas never really sought that kind of life, but he wanted to be the perfect alpha for you—just because he fell in love with you. Who wouldn’t? A breathtaking, beautiful omega craving a protector. Pleading to be rescued. He probably would’ve promised you a star from the sky."

Something flickered in River’s eyes. He suddenly stepped back from the window and sank onto the edge of the bed, his fingers gripping the top of his nest’s wall.

"Yes. I… projected my own dream of a strong alpha onto him. The one I thought my father should have been—the better version of him."

His fingers twisted nervously through the woven fabric reinforcing the nest. His voice dropped to a whisper, rough with emotion.

"But Thomas couldn’t do it. And he knew he was failing me—his prince, as he called me. So he just… checked out."

For some reason, River’s fantasies of being saved—or, for that matter, being failed by a hero and abused by monsters at the same time—made a twisted kind of sense in the landscape of his psyche.

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