Page 27 of Want It All
‘Oh, look,’ Byron said, interrupting that train of thought. ‘Dolphins!’
Alpha eyesight was sharper than the other designations, but I could still make out the small pod, playing in the bay, just past where the waves were breaking. ‘They’re so close to the beach!’
‘They get whales here, too,’ Byron added, stepping beside me and shading his eyes as he looked out to sea. He was wearing a pair of aviators, but the glare from the water was fierce. ‘It’s later in the year, though. Humpbacks and Southern Rights, mostly, but other kinds too.’
‘And sharks?’
‘Ye-ep,’ he said, drawing the word out. ‘A few different types. But dad said there was a drone sighting of a three-metre white shark not long ago, so I think I’ll be sticking close to the sand.’
Despite the warmth of the day, I shivered. I wasn’t afraid of many things, but being wary of metres-long apex predators was just sensible.
‘Your dad is an author, right?’ Sebastian said over his shoulder. ‘I read one of his novels a few years ago.The Watch Eternal. I really liked it. I was surprised it wasn’t … bigger.’
Byron snorted. ‘You and him both. He thinks it’s his best work, and he gets annoyed that all anyone wants to talk about isThe Light in His Eyes.’
‘ButThe Light in His Eyesis amazing!’ I exclaimed. It was the truth; I had two copies, one on my eReader and a beautiful hardcover that I refused to open; I was also unhealthily excited about the upcoming film. ‘I had no idea that Carwyn Griffiths was your dad!’
‘Is that why you studied literature?’ Tristan glanced back, his green eyes curious. He’d jammed a straw sunhat over his curls and the lenses of his glasses had darkened in the bright light. ‘Because of your dad?’
‘That, and there’s a certain responsibility that comes with your parents naming youByron,’ the alpha said dryly. ‘My sister went the opposite way. They named her after Christina Rossetti, so she started an electrician apprenticeship.’
‘What’s it like, having a fiction author for a dad?’ Sebastian asked.
‘What’s it like having a Nobel Laureate for a mum?’ Byron returned.
Sebastian looked out to sea. ‘Touché.’
‘It was a serious question, if you want to answer it,’ Byron said gently. ‘I don’t know what other dads are like. My parents are both betas, and it’s just the two of them, so we didn’t have a team of pack parents. My dad was always the one at home, always the one taking us to school, or doing the shopping, or dropping us to swimming training. He was always there, but he wasn’t always present, if you know what I mean? His mind was always on the next story, the next cast of characters, or on his research. Sometimes, it felt as if we were competing with another world.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Except it’s not a competition – it can’t be. The world isn’t yours, and the characters aren’t real, but it’s still more fascinating to him than your homework, orwhatever silly argument you had with your friends. Actually,’ he went on, lips curving into a rueful smile, ‘I’m not being fair. Dad is a really good parent. Kids just want to feel as if they’re the centre of everything, don’t they? And my sister and I would act out if we thought we weren’t.’
‘I was never the centre of anything,’ Sebastian said bleakly, after a moment’s silence. ‘I’m the only child of five parents, and not one of them could tear themselves away from their work to care for me. I had a nanny from two weeks old.’ He sniffed. ‘I fucking loved him, too. I was devastated when my parents decided to let him go. They sent me to boarding school instead. I’ve never been big,’ he continued, and I frowned, because he certainly seemed pretty perfect to me, ‘and I was a weird-looking kid. I didn’t grow into my face until I was eighteen. And so, I was bullied.’ He shot a smile over his shoulder, sad and beautiful; my heart squeezed. ‘Constantly and mercilessly. Studying was the only escape that I had, and I took it.’ He glanced at Byron. ‘I don’t know what it’s like tonothave a mother like that. All the kids I met from similar families seemed to have a similar experience – their parents were all distant. But the difference was thattheydidn’t seem to care. Not as much as I did, anyway. So, when I grow up –’ he threw me another smile, this one devastating ‘– I’m going to have a thousand babies and spoil every single one of them rotten.’
‘A thousand is certainly a number,’ Tristan – who would possibly parent said babies – commented dryly. ‘This way.’ He gestured to a wooden staircase, fastened precariously to the side of the cliff. It cut across the rock and down to the sand, with one wooden handrail standing as a valiant barrier between us and the considerable drop below. ‘I hope no one is afraid of heights.’
I was usually fine with heights, but this was particularly exposed; a whine escaped my throat, so softly it was almost silent.
My cheeks heated with embarrassment, but Tristan was already on the staircase, and Sebastian followed close behind him.
For a moment, I thought I’d gotten away with it, but then Byron stepped to my side, putting himself between me and the empty drop.
Alpha, my instincts purred.
Did you do that on purpose?I fumed at them.
They didn’t answer; all things considered, their silence was probably a good thing. I made my way down the staircase slowly, fixing my eyes on the wooden planks beneath my feet and refusing to glance to the side as the wind whipped through my hair. Byron’s hand occasionally brushed mine, and every tiny touch sent a shiver up my arm.
The sand on the beach below was white, almost blindingly so, and the ocean a mess of breathtaking blues. The beach wasn’t one of the kilometres-long stretches common further north; it was small, secluded, and private, bounded by rocky outcrops and bush. It was beautiful, and there was something quintessentially Australian about the untamed bush stubbornly encroaching where the local council had cleared a tiny, sandy car park. This country didn’t take kindly to attempts to tame it; it never had.
It was part of what I loved so much about it.
There was another small group of people on the beach – not students, or at least not students we recognised – but they were far enough away that a friendly nod sufficed. Tristan scanned the beach, then seemed to come to a decision, heading for a patch of sand partially shaded by the cliffs and sheltered from the sea breeze. He knelt in the sand, pulling a pop-up dome tent from his backpack, and my mouth hung open as he and Byron made short work of setting it up and filling its sandbags. Byron carefully lay down some towels inside, Tristan unpackedthe picnic, and it became something that made my insides go all melty.
It was like anest. Abeachnest.
‘Fuck,yes,’ Sebastian breathed, then grabbed my hand, dragging me inside.
If we’d really squeezed in, there would have been enough space for all four of us, but the alphas didn’t even try to come inside. Sebastian lay down on his stomach on one of the towels, close enough that his elbow brushed my knee when I sat down.
I’d been right about the picnic; there wasn’t a sandwich in sight. It was a cheese board instead, done the way I liked best, with dips and a tonne of fruit.
