Rowan forced a strained smile. "Just... take care of yourself, alright? And if anything feels off, or wrong, or... I don’t know, cold? You tell ."
Devon nodded, touched by the concern. "I will."
Rowan turned to leave, but paused at the door. His voice dropped low.
"For what it’s worth," he said, "I hope Lucien realizes what he has before he ruins it."
Devon looked puzzled. "Ruins what?"
Rowan didn’t answer. He slipped out with a sigh that carried weeks of stress he hadn’t lived yet.
Devon expected things to feel different after the contract... he just didn’t expect this kind of difference. Word spread fast through Ravenmoon, and the entire pack reacted like he’d suddenly grown a halo.
Wolves who used to ignore him now bowed respectfully. Servants who once eyed him with caution now offered warm smiles and extra helpings of food. Even warriors nodded at him in the halls, treating him like he belonged.
For the first ti in his life, Devon wasn’t being glared at, insulted, or shoved aside. They treated him like family. Like one of them. Like soone who mattered. But Lucien?
Lucien was a whole different story.
Devon noticed it first during breakfast. The Alpha walked into the dining hall, scanned the room, and the second his eyes landed on Devon... sothing shuttered inside him. His expression cooled, his posture stiffened, and he turned away with the smooth indifference of a man avoiding sothing that made him uncomfortable.
Devon tried to speak to him.
He got a short nod.
Barely eye contact.
A clipped, "I have matters to attend to."
That was the beginning.
The next day, Lucien passed him in the hallway. Devon greeted him. Lucien returned a polite "Good morning," without slowing, without looking. Not cold enough to be cruel... but cold enough that Devon felt it in his bones.
At first, Devon convinced himself Lucien was just busy. He was an Alpha, after all. Leaders didn’t have ti for long conversations or gentle smiles. But it kept happening.
Lucien attended als and never sat next to him. Lucien checked on his son and avoided entering when Devon was inside the room. Lucien discussed schedules, rules, and expectations like he was speaking to an employee, not a spouse. Lucien kept a careful distance, like touching the boundary between them would burn.
Devon felt it every single ti, that invisible wall the Alpha had erected the mont the ink dried.
The pack adored him. The little prince stuck to his side like a koala. Rowan treated him with a strange combination of warmth and guilt. But Lucien...
What was the kiss for?
Lucien was the one person Devon expected to at least acknowledge him after everything. After the protection. After the monts in the sickbed. After the contract, they now shared. Instead, Devon felt like an afterthought. A tool that was placed carefully on a shelf once its imdiate use was over.
Late one evening, Devon sat alone in the quiet of his borrowed room, the child asleep beside him. The moonlight spilled through the window, cold and pale, while he traced the edge of the marriage band around his finger.
He whispered to himself, barely audible, "Why does it feel like he’s farther away than ever?"
He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t even disappointed. He was confused. Every kindness Lucien had shown him before the contract... every gentle touch, every worried look, every mont of warmth... Devon replayed them, wondering if he had misunderstood everything.
Maybe those touches were duty. Maybe those expressions were a habit. Maybe those monts were never ant to an anything. Devon pulled the blanket around the child and sighed quietly.
"Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be," he murmured. "A marriage on paper... and distance in everything else."
He didn’t know that Lucien, several doors away, sat alone in his private office... staring at the sa marriage band on his own finger, jaw clenched, chest tight with emotions he refused to na.
Both n felt the distance.
Only one believed it was intentional.
And only one believed he deserved it.
The tension settled over the mansion like a cold fog, subtle but undeniable. Adults might have tiptoed around it, pretended it wasn’t there, buried it under duty and pride.
But a five-year-old?
He felt it like a storm pressing behind the walls.
Little Elias clung to Devon more than usual, big blue eyes following him everywhere. Most days, he was cheerful and chatty, but lately... he kept glancing between Devon and Lucien with a small, troubled frown, like he sensed the air thinning between them.
One afternoon, Devon tried to sneak past Lucien’s study without drawing attention. Elias, however, had other plans. He grabbed Devon’s wrist with tiny fingers and tugged insistently.
"Papa," Elias whispered.
Devon blinked. "E-Elias, I told you... You don’t have to call that."
Elias ignored him entirely and marched toward Lucien’s closed door, dragging Devon behind him with surprising determination. Devon tried to stop him, but the kid planted himself in front of the door and knocked with both fists.
Lucien opened it mid-eting with Rowan. His eyes softened for a fraction of a second at the sight of his son. Then he noticed Devon just behind him, lowering his head awkwardly.
Elias puffed out his cheeks and stomped inside the study like a tiny general.
Lucien followed him with a puzzled frown. "Elias? What’s wrong?"
The boy pointed at Devon.
Then pointed at Lucien.
Then pointed at the empty couch like he was assigning seats.
Devon blinked. "Elias, sweetheart, what are you..."
Elias marched back to Devon, grabbed his hand, and physically pulled him toward Lucien with all the fierce determination of a child fixing the world with pure stubborn love.
Lucien stared helplessly at Rowan, who pretended to cough to hide a smile.
"Devon, sit," Elias demanded.
Devon sat.
"Daddy, sit."
Lucien hesitated, but Elias’s glare could have leveled armies. He finally sat beside Devon, stiff as a board, careful not to touch.
Elias frowned harder. He pushed Lucien’s hand. He pushed Devon’s hand. He mashed their hands together like two puzzle pieces that didn’t know they belonged.
Devon froze, face burning. Lucien stiffened, breath catching for a mont, and he swore he didn’t feel. Elias finally relaxed, satisfied.
"Better," he said simply, crawling onto Devon’s lap like nothing unusual had happened.
Devon didn’t look at Lucien.
Lucien didn’t look at Devon.
But their hands stayed where Elias put them.
And for the first ti in days... the wall between them cracked.
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