The door crashes closed behind her as she departs.
…. Current Era ….
I feign slumber as the little figure beside me prods my face.
“Mother?” Braylon murmurs, trying to nudge my eyelids apart with his small fingers. “Mother, I desire pancakes today.”
I stay completely still, endeavouring to conceal my smile as my son persistently prods at my eyes.
“Mother,” he kisses my face and positions himself alongside me. “Mother, may we prepare pancakes?”
I awaken abruptly, enveloping him in my embrace and bestowing kisses onto him.
“Mother, may we prepare pancakes?” He grins as I let him go.
“I am uncertain,” I respond, feigning a yawn. “I feel rather fatigued…”
“Please, mother?” He implores, presenting me with beseeching eyes.
My heart softens, however I choose to use this situation to the fullest.
“What are the incantations?” I enquire.
He smiles at me. “I love you.”
“What is the cost?”
He extends his arms to their furthest extent to illustrate his affection. “This much,” he proclaims with pride.
This was my paradise. Following months of anguish and ambiguity, I was finally content with my intelligent son.
My son, Braylon, was conceived with the assistance of a witch, and he has provided unparalleled joy to my life. He is my existence, my essence, my all, and I will ensure that Aldo never discovers him.
What is your name?”My father’s voice resonates powerfully as he grips my shirt in his fist, pinning me against the wall.”
I suppress the sob lodged in my throat and wipe away my eyes as I attempt to focus on my words. “J-J-Ja-”
Prior to completing my endeavour, my father’s fist swiftly strikes my face, impacting just beneath my jaw and eliciting a rush of anguish throughout my diminutive frame. I immediately taste blood, the metallic flavour all too familiar on my tongue.
“Noel, I implore you!”My mother weeps sorrowfully, clutching my father’s bicep in an attempt to extricate me from his hold.
“Please attempt once more!””My father snarls, forcefully pressing me against the wall.
Anxiety surges within me as I gaze into my father’s frigid eyes, which reflect profound animosity and shame for having me as a son. My mouth becomes parched, hanging open. I sense my name lodged in my throat, yet despite my efforts, I am unable to produce a single intelligible sound.
At the age of six, my stutter transitioned from an endearing phase to a significant impediment. Regardless of my concentration or effort, constructing a coherent sentence became an arduous challenge, seemingly unattainable. I was aware that my father felt embarrassed each time I faltered in articulating my own name, even in the presence of the household staff.
The name was not difficult: Jadi Jay. It was straightforward, or at least it ought to be.
To resolve this issue, my father, the Moonlit Wolf Alpha of the Blue Sky Pack, arranged for the most esteemed speech therapists to be sent in, although none succeeded in remedying my affliction. I was deemed incurable, a reality that was intolerable to my father.
I had not yet been introduced to the pack as the forthcoming Alpha, and so far, only two maids, the beta, and my mother’s Gamma were aware of my appearance. I was the concealed Heir of Blue Sky, sequestered within the Pack home. I was the one no one had ever encountered, and for justifiable reasons.
My father possessed numerous adversaries. His eldest son, Duncan, was murdered by our Moonlit Wolf rivals, the Stonecold Clan, merely days before his first birthday, instilling in my father a fear that someone would attempt to assassinate me prior to my ascension to the title. My persistent stutter further exacerbated his desire to conceal me; how could the next Alpha of one of the most esteemed Moonlit Wolf Packs on the West Coast possibly have a stutter?
Abandoning the professional therapist, my father assumed control of the situation himself.
At present, I find myself in his control and subject to his will.
My mother attempts to assist me, but she lacks the strength to prevent the enraged Alpha from venting his anger on my visage.
My jaw aches as I open it again. Enduring the discomfort, I shut my eyes and focus on my name lingering on the tip of my tongue. I attempt to vocalise, but the dread of my father’s fist renders my throat parched. Instead of my name, a faint squeak emerges from my lips.
Furious, my father’s brown eyes transform to blue as his wolf asserts itself. His penetrating gaze regards me with disdain, causing me to collapse to the ground as the Alpha pivots away.
“He is not worth my time,” the Alpha growls, glancing back. He addresses my mother, “Retrieve your son and ensure his silence during the gathering.” Ensure he does not cause me any further embarrassment.
