Page 6 of An Enigma for the Lycan Crown Prince
“Hm,” she hums.
Gamma Tobias told me she doesn’t respond to anyone when she has her episodes, just to me. I think he just wanted to make me feel good, though.
“I found a friend and played with her,” I say, starting to tell her about how I met Flora and hung out with her.
“Is that so?” Mom answers, her lips tugging into a smile, but the gaze in her eyes is far away.
I don’t know if she even registers what I say when she is like this, but I ignore my gloomy thoughts and continue to chat with her. I just talk, scared of the silence that comes when I stop speaking. I just want to fill it and stop it from being so devastating.
Flora’s grandma hugged her. Every time she walked past her, she brushed through her hair. Mom hasn’t really hugged me in ages.
Is it me?
Maybe it’s me.
I try hard to never worry her and to not complain, to be a good kid, but I don’t think it’s enough.
I keep holding her hand while talking, just needing to feel her warmth. She puts her hand on my head eventually, absent-mindedly patting it. It’s been a while since she did that. “Mom,” I start, being interrupted by heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.
Gamma Tobias, who is positioned in front of the door, greets him politely. “Alpha Caelum.”
Mom pulls her hand away from my head and puts it back in her lap. I take a step back, too, not sure what I’m trying to distance myself from.
Dad opens the door, stepping inside. He just eyes me briefly, barely acknowledging my presence before he goes to Mom. “Carolina,” he says.
She doesn’t look at him, just keeps staring out of the window.
“How was your day?” he asks.
Mom’s eyes flicker shortly. “The birds are singing,” she says.
Dad groans in frustration and turns to me. “What are you doing here? Why are you not training?”
“Training was in the morning,” I tell him.
“You weren’t at school!?”
“It was a public holiday today.”
He furrows his brows, eventually nodding. “How is your progress?”
“Good… I think.”
“You think?”
“The beta said my movements are smooth,” I say. I don’t even know if that’s good progress or not. Dad is adamant about me working on myself, as much as possible. I study more than the other kids, I train more, I’m reading far ahead of my age group. That’s what my teachers say.
I guess that’s good.
I don’t know; I don’t really care. But I know that if I do well, Dad won’t complain. And if he won’t complain, Mom will have some peace, too.
“What else did you do this afternoon?” he asks.
I know lying to him won’t help. He always finds out. “I met a friend,” I say. “Some of the kids-”
“A sweet girl,” Mom mutters, seemingly more to herself than to us. I’m surprised and a bit happy that she listened to me.
“A girl?” Dad asks, alarmed. His voice makes me tense up instantly. He turns to me now. “Elden,” he says sharply. “We talked about this! I expect you to listen.”
