Chapter 117

Nathan POV

Picking up the pieces of my campaign for Alpha President wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped it would be.

So much of the last few months was lost to Sabrina’s plotting and interference.

It was a shock, in fact, to realize just how much I’d handed over to her when it came to organizing campaign-related events, writing speeches and statements to the media, even everyday communications.

Feeling grim, I settled into my office at Silverfang headquarters, determined not to leave that day until I finally had everything straightened out.

So I spent the day making calls, reading through files, and slowly - very slowly - getting back on track.

By afternoon my eyes were blurry, my temper was short and I’d forgotten to eat lunch.

But I finally had my feet under me again.

A knock on the door drew my attention. I looked up to find Beta Evan with a takeout bag in his hand.

“I thought you might be hungry, sir,” he said, walking in and handing me the bag.

The smell of the food made my stomach growl, and I thanked him gratefully as I opened the bag and dug in.

Evan settled himself in a chair in front of my desk.

“How are things going?” he asked.

“Better,” I said, biting into my sandwich.

I chewed for a moment, then added, “I’ve begun making preparations for a speaking and debate tour throughout the realm.”

Evan seemed surprised. “I’m impressed, sir. That’s a lot of work.”

I grunted. “You’re not kidding. As a matter of fact, I can already see it’s going to be a major headache. Arranging for that many events at multiple locations isn’t going to be easy.”

“I’m happy to do what I can to help,” Evan said.

“I know, and I appreciate that. But I’ve been thinking…”

Wiping my hands on a napkin, I sat back in my chair.

“For all of the chaos and violence she caused, Sabrina’s insistence that I needed a campaign manager was the truth.

“I need someone whose only job is to manage my presidential campaign.”

Evan nodded, already pulling out his notebook to write down what I needed. “I’ll put together a few potential candidates for you to interview, sir.”

I thanked him for that and for the food, then wrapped up for the day.

It was time to pick Andy up from school.

We had a project to work on, and a plan to keep putting into action.

After dinner we settled down at the dining room table, a bunch of papers, pens and crayons spread out around us.

“What are you going to say in your letter?” I asked Andy.

Andy looked up from the picture he was coloring and smiled. “Everything!”

I laughed and told him Claire would love that.

Writing a letter to his mother was something Andy thought of just the day before. And I had decided the idea was so good that I would join him.

Staying in touch with Claire was a priority for both of us. But mindlinking felt too intrusive on my end and Andy, as a child, wasn’t yet strong enough to link with his mother from this distance.

Andy spoke with Claire every evening on the phone, but wanted to do more.

So did I.

So while Andy drew her colorful pictures, and wrote a letter about his day at school in his slow, careful handwriting, I settled down to write my own.

It wasn’t easy.

For so long I’d kept myself at a distance from Claire, inside myself.

As an Alpha whose fated mate was a wolfless Omega, I’d felt like I had to.

It felt like my duty as a leader to maintain my position and reputation as an Alpha. Getting too close to Claire would have risked that by making me too emotional, too sloppy, too likely to let something slip and reveal who my true mate was.

And that, I felt, would have been a disaster.

It was only now that I was beginning to realize my mistake.

By not letting Claire into my heart, and not showing her what she really meant to me, I’d done nothing but drive her away from me.

I needed to do better.

So I pushed myself to be open, and even a little vulnerable, as I wrote.

I’d held myself to the high standard of a cold, strong Alpha for far too long.

Now I needed to show Claire my heart.

Claire POV

The day after Alpha Gavin’s massive gift of flowers, a large envelope arrived from Silverfang pack.

From Nathan and Andy.

I sat with it in my sitting room, surrounded by the strong perfume of dozens and dozens of flowers.

And laughed with delight when I realized what they’d sent me.

My lap began to fill with page after page of Andy’s colorful drawings, his long and rambling letter about school, his friends, playing at the park, asking if he could get a dog.

His handwriting had improved so much already, and his days were so full!

It was a bittersweet moment, realizing how much of a life my baby had. And how much of it I was going to continue missing.

I ached to be with him, to hear him tell me all of this himself.

But I set that familiar heartache aside, and did my best to simply enjoy my son’s energy and enthusiasm.

And I saved Nathan’s letter for last.

Once Andy’s pile of papers had all been read and carefully gathered into a pile, I finally opened Nathan’s letter.

And my breath caught in my throat.

Dearest Claire,

I think of you every day.

All day.

You’re with me every moment, a warm soft glow in my heart.

Looking back, I realize it’s always been there.

I have carried you inside of me since the moment we met.

And yet, I never told you.

Out of a misplaced sense of duty to my pack, I held back. An Alpha was supposed to be strong, cold, always in control.

So I never told you how I felt, or what you mean to me.

I never showed you the true depth of our bond, the way it is an anchor inside of me.

That was wrong.

And I’m sorry.

I know you want to begin again, or try to. And to begin as friends.

So, as your friend, let me start fresh by saying this first, as I should have said every single day before:

I love you.

My eyes filled as I read his words a second time, and then a third.

This.

This is what I’d been wanting from my mate, what I’d been longing to hear from him.

All I ever wanted was for him to show me his thoughts and feelings. To tell me how he truly felt.

Seeing them now, being able to hold them in my hand, meant so much to me.

I sat, the letter pressed to my chest, with my eyes closed.

My first instinct was to grab some paper and write back, tell him all the thoughts and feelings swirling in my mind at this moment.

But I wanted to go slower. I wanted to take my time, and really put my thoughts in order.

Still glowing from the joy the letter brought me, I decided to take a late evening walk around the palace grounds before I wrote him back.

A walk would settle my mind and help me think.

But as soon as I stood up, a lightning flash of pain in my head struck me out of nowhere, and I fell to my knees.

Wave after wave of pain and nausea hit me, and all I could do was cling to the carpet and wait for it to pass.

When it finally did, what took its place was a deep unease.

These headaches were getting worse. Stronger, and more frequent.

And they were beginning to truly worry me.