Twenty two

Remus.

The library was quiet, the soft rustling of leaves outside the window the only sound. I stood there, staring at the worn bookshelves lining the room, my mind a whirl of thoughts.

I knew this conversation was coming. Ever since Rhea had been crowned Luna, it was like I could feel my mother's disapproval lurking in every corner of the pack house.

But when my father, walked into the room, I felt the air around me thicken. He shut the door behind him, a serious look on his face. This wasn't going to be just a casual talk.

"Remus," he began, his voice steady but with a hint of pressure, "we need to talk." I turned to face him, arms crossed, bracing myself for what I knew was coming.

"About what, Father?" I asked, keeping my voice neutral, though my insides were already churning. He walked slowly to the center of the room, his eyes fixed on the floor for a moment before he looked up at me.

"You know what this is about," he replied, his eyes narrowing slightly. "It's about the pack. The traditions. The way things have been done for generations."

I felt a surge of irritation rise in me. Of course, it was about traditions. It was always about traditions. "Go on," I said, my tone clipped. "Say what you came here to say."

He sighed, running a hand through his graying hair. "You know how things are supposed to be done, Remus. The Luna is chosen through a process that has worked for centuries. It's not just about personal feelings; it's about the pack's acceptance, about stability."

"Stability?" I echoed, unable to keep the disbelief out of my voice. "You think this is about stability?" I took a step toward him, the irritation bubbling over.

 "I've made my choice. Rhea is my Luna. We're already married. How would it look if I suddenly said, 'Oh, never mind, let's pick someone else because it's tradition'? It would make us a laughingstock!"

His eyes hardened. "It's not about making you a laughingstock. It's about what the pack expects, what they need."

"And what they need," I shot back, "is a leader who stands by his decisions, not one who changes them because of some outdated ritual!"

For a moment, there was silence. My father stared at me, his jaw clenched. I could see the struggle in his eyes—the struggle between his desire to keep to the old ways and the reality of the situation. "Do you know what this could cause?" he asked quietly, his voice carrying a note of warning. "There are elders, influential pack members who believe in the traditions. If they see you bypassing them, it could lead to dissent. You may have to face challenges to your authority."

I felt a cold anger building inside me. I wasn't a child to be lectured about the consequences of my actions. I had thought this through.

"So what, Father?" I said, my voice low and dangerous. "Are you saying that I should humiliate my wife? That I should strip her of the title she has already earned, just to satisfy the whims of some old men?"

"No," He replied sharply, taking a step closer to me. "I'm saying you need to think about the pack as a whole. It's not about humiliating her; it's about doing what's best for everyone."

I laughed, a harsh sound in the quiet room. "You think this is best for everyone? Putting Rhea aside because some people can't accept change? I won't do it. Not now, not ever. She's my wife, and she is Luna. End of story."

"You're making a mistake, Remus," he said, his voice rising slightly. "You're letting your emotions cloud your judgment."

"My judgment is clear," I snapped, the anger now fully unleashed. "It's not about emotions; it's about right and wrong. And I will not let anyone, not even you or mother, tell me to go back on my word and disrespect the woman I chose to stand beside me."

His eyes flashed with a combination of anger and disappointment. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it again, taking a deep breath. He knew me well enough to see that I wasn't going to budge. "This isn't over," he said finally, his voice cold and resigned. "The pack will have their say in this."

"They can have their say," I retorted. "But I've made my decision. And as Alpha, it's final."

He stared at me for a long moment, his face a mask of controlled emotions. Then, without another word, he turned and walked out of the library. As the door closed behind him, I felt a weight settle on my shoulders. I knew this wasn't the end of it. My mother wouldn't let it go so easily, and neither would the pack members who still clung to her words. But I was ready to face them. I had to be. For Rhea, for myself, for the future of the pack.

**

The rest of the day dragged on. I moved through the pack house, handling my duties, but the worry from my argument with my father lingered in the back of my mind.

Every glance from the pack members felt like it carried a question, an unspoken judgment. Were they questioning my decision too? Was the seed of doubt spreading among them?

I tried to keep my composure, to maintain the aura of control that was expected of an Alpha. But beneath the surface, I was boiling with anger and frustration. They all wanted to talk about tradition and stability, but what about loyalty? What about standing by the choices that were made, even when they went against the grain?

Rhea noticed, of course. She always noticed. Throughout the day, she would catch my eye, a look of concern etched on her face. But I avoided the topic, not wanting to burden her with the pack's discontent. She had enough to deal with, adjusting to her new role.

**

Nightfall found me in our bedroom, trying to shake off the day's events. I watched as Rhea moved about, preparing for bed. She was quiet, too quiet, and I knew her well enough to realize that she was battling with questions.

I wished I could make it all go away, to protect her from the mess that was brewing within the pack. But that wasn't possible. We were in this together, whether we liked it or not.

I walked over to the window, staring out into the darkness. The moon was high, casting its silver light over the grounds. I knew I had to say something, to try and reassure her. But before I could, she spoke.

"Remus," she said, her voice breaking the silence. I turned to look at her, and the expression on her face made my heart sink. She looked pissed but also vulnerable.

"Who is Emmie?"

Her words hit me like a physical blow. For a second, I couldn't breathe. My mind went blank, and all I could do was stare at her, feeling the room spin around me. How did she know that name? I had tried so hard to keep that part of my past buried.

"Rhea," I started, my voice coming out strained. I had to find a way to explain, but nothing came to mind. She deserved an answer, but I wasn't ready to open up that wound, not now, not like this.

She stepped closer, her eyes searching mine. "I've heard the name around the pack," she said quietly. "People talk like she's someone important. I need to know, Remus."

I turned away, unable to meet her gaze. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. This was the one thing I had hoped to avoid.

Emmie was a chapter of my life that was closed, or so I thought. But now, it was rearing its head, threatening to rip apart the fragile peace I had tried to build.

"It's not something I want to discuss right now," I said finally, my voice harsh even to my own ears. I regretted it the moment the words left my mouth. I saw the flicker of hurt in Rhea's eyes, the way she recoiled slightly, as if I had slapped her.

"So that's it?" she whispered, her voice trembling with anger and pain. "You're just going to shut me out?"

"It's not about shutting you out," I shot back, my irritation spilling over. "It's... complicated. And right now, with everything that's happening, I can't—"

"You can't what?" she interrupted, her eyes blazing now. "You can't trust me? You can't let me in on what's obviously a huge part of your past? I'm your wife, Remus. I'm supposed to be your partner."

Her words cut deep, but I couldn't let her see how much. I had to stay firm. "This isn't the time," I insisted, my voice dropping to a strained whisper. "Please, Rhea, just let it go for now."

She stared at me, her eyes wide with anger, hurt, and something else—fear, perhaps. Fear of the unknown, of the secrets that lay between us. Slowly, she nodded, but the look on her face told me this was far from over.

We went to bed in silence. The darkness in the room was a stark distinction to the uproar in my mind. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the sound of Rhea's breathing beside me. She was still, too still, and I knew she was wide awake, just like me. The space between us felt like an endless chasm, filled with all the things we couldn't say to each other.

I closed my eyes, trying to block out the haunting thoughts. But Emmie's name echoed in my mind, a reminder of the past that refused to stay buried. I had to find a way to deal with this, to protect Rhea from the storm that was brewing. But as I lay there, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on me, I realized that maybe the storm was already here.

Rhea would not let this go. And I couldn't blame her. But how could I tell her about Emmie without tearing open old wounds, without setting off a chain of events that could shake the very foundation of our pack? I didn't have the answers, not tonight.

Beside me, Rhea shifted, her back to me, but I knew she wasn't asleep. She was thinking, planning. I knew she was making a decision of her own. To find the truth, no matter what it took.