38. Ethan

"Why do you look like that?"my mother asks as she glides into the clan house kitchen, her long, dark hair elegantly braided over her shoulder. The corners of her lips are turned up in a playful smirk, and her blue eyes sparkle with mischief as she makes her way to the coffee pot, shooting me a look that's both inquisitive and teasing."You messed up."

"I fucked up," I reply, not even trying to hide it as my forehead hits the countertop with a thud that's less about the physical pain and more about the ache inside.

Tyler and Brody kicked me out, insisting I needed to get my priorities straight.

"All right," my mother says, yawning despite the late morning hour, then shudders as she starts her coffee ritual. "Spill it. I'm eager to hear how severely you've erred with my potential daughter-in-law."

I wince. "You're not going to appreciate what I'm about to say," I confess, resting my chin on my hands.

"Of course I won't." She turns to lean against the counter and crosses her arms, her pointer finger rhythmically tapping her bicep. Dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt that reaches her knees—likely one of her mates'—she embodies a sense of casual authority, her demeanor effortlessly blending warmth and anticipation.

"Tyler and Ava…" I exhale heavily, the words catching in my throat. "They…" My hand flails for a moment, searching for the right words.

"Had sex," she finishes for me, her eyes wide. "For fate's sake, Ethan, if you can't even say the word, you shouldn't be engaging in it."

"Mother, please," I grumble, dragging a hand down my face.

"I'm just stating facts," she retorts, blinking innocently as her coffee finishes brewing.

"I don't know what came over me," I confess, rubbing my eyes wearily. The lack of sleep is gnawing at my sanity. "I woke up in a cold sweat, terrified of losing her to someone else." The nightmares just won't stop. I press my palms into my eyes, seeing stars from the pressure.

"Oh." Zane snorts as he enters the kitchen, his heavy footsteps announcing his presence. "The protective alpha rears his head, does he?"

"Yes," I say, watching Zane prepare the coffee for our mother. It hits me then—do I even know how Ava likes her coffee? I've truly messed up.

"Continue," my mother urges.

"I hired a moving truck and cleared out her apartment, then terminated her lease by settling it in full," I blurt out, the words tumbling forth in a breathless stream.

Zane's laughter fills the room, his amusement at my tale evident as he doubles over, gasping for breath. My mother simply rubs his back, sipping her coffee with nonchalant grace.

"You're just like your father," Zane says between laughs, the affection in his voice making the room feel a little less tense.

"More than you know," my mother adds. "Did I ever tell you about our first month as a pack?"

I wave off the familiar story. "It was serendipitous," I say dismissively, having heard the tale numerous times. "You were all older, none having found a fated mate. Zane and father were bonded, and you were the betrothed."

"Ah, such a crude summary," Zane remarks, finally ceasing his laughter. "Darling, I'll let you take it from here." He plants a kiss on her cheek and walks away, still chuckling.

My mother's frown deepens as she settles on the stool across from me, her mug hitting the counter with a gentle clink. The lines on her face tell a story deeper than I've ever truly known, and her heavy sigh signals the gravity of the tale she's about to share, one I realize I've only heard in fragments.

"Well, I need to go back further than that. Your father and I were betrothed when we first shifted," she reveals, catching me off guard.

"This isn't the story I know," I say.

She simply shrugs. "I've never delved into the details before," she admits. "For nine years, your father made my existence unbearable. It was quite the enemies to lovers story."

"This is definitely not the story I've been told," I repeat, more intrigued.

"Your father is ashamed of his past behavior," she explains. "He never wanted a betrothal. He yearned for a fated mate, but even back then, finding one was as rare as it is today. Still, a fated mate is revered above all else."

I exhale deeply, regretting my treatment of Ava even more.

I also bite my tongue, because the three of them were eager to mate us off to Natalie.

"Before the betrothal, your father and I were close friends, closer even than you and Brody," she continues, her voice tinged with nostalgia. "After our parents' announcement, he turned on me, becoming unrecognizable." She spins her mug absentmindedly. "He did some reprehensible things I'd rather not recount, but there came a day when I had enough—enough of him, enough of Zane's attempts at peacemaking. I needed solitude."

"You left clan grounds?" I ask for clarification.

"Not just the clan grounds. I ventured into town, determined to run away. I thought if they didn't want me, I'd grant their wish," she recalls, the hurt evident in her expression. "I was heartbroken, missing my friend more than anything. I never wanted the life fate thrust upon us. I just wanted us, however fate would allow it." Her vulnerability pierces me. "That didn't include cruelty."

Instinctively, I reach out, squeezing her hand in comfort.

She returns the gesture before quickly wiping away a tear. "Anyway…" She clears her throat. "I was on a bus heading north when we stopped for a break. Desperate for a connection to nature, I wandered into the nearby woods, despite knowing I couldn't shift—too many humans. That's when I stumbled upon a hunter with his shotgun aimed at a wolf."

"What are the odds?" I murmur, engrossed in her story.

"I'm not sure," she replies, finally meeting my gaze. "Without hesitation, I shifted and attacked the hunter, but it was already too late. He fired his shot."

"He could have killed you," I whisper, the significance of the situation sinking in.

Tears well in her eyes. "I know." She sniffles. "And in a way, he did. That wolf—he was my fated mate, and he was dying. I only had an hour with him on that blood soaked forest floor before he passed away," she says, offering a watery smile. "You'd be surprised what you can learn about someone in just an hour. He was without a pack and on his way to our clan when the hunter ambushed him. I believe fate led me to him that day."

"What was his name?"

"Matthias," she whispers, wiping away another tear. "I don't know how your father and Zane knew, but they found me there, clinging to him, sobbing and broken on the forest floor. Without a word, they helped me up and took care of Matthias' body. They also disposed of the hunter and brought us all back home." She lets her tears fall freely, her gaze drifting to the window and beyond to the small graveyard nestled deeply in our forest. "He's buried out there, in a plot reserved for our pack."

"He would have completed the three of you." I feel my own heart fracture at the thought of the pain my mother and the others must have felt.

"I believe so," she says softly, "but by the time your father and Zane arrived, he was already gone, so we'll never truly know. That moment, however, marked a turning point for us. It didn't instantly erase all the hurt, but it was the beginning. Your father showed up for me that day, and he hasn't stopped since. It took time, but eventually, he was fully forgiven. The lesson here is?—"

"Show up," I echo, understanding dawning.

"Exactly," she confirms with a gentle nod. "It might seem insignificant, or it might feel like everything, but the key is to just be there. You can't undo your mistakes in a single gesture, but by consistently showing up, you can make amends. Show her why she matters. Apologize. Give your future a chance, because it could end before it ever really starts. I want you to have that future."

"I'm sorry you didn't get your future with Matthias."

"Me too," she murmurs, the pain clear in her eyes. "But if your father hadn't driven me away, then I never would have met Matthias."

"Thank you for sharing your story with me," I say, my voice thick with emotion.

Her smile reaches her eyes, warming them, and a silent thank you wraps around my heart.

Suddenly, Brody's voice interrupts my thoughts through the pack link. Location?

Clan house, I respond, a knot forming in my stomach. Is Ava okay?

We're coming home, he replies.

Home? As in with Ava?Tyler's excitement crackles through the link. Seriously? Don't play with me. My heart can't handle letdowns. I'm a sensitive boy.

You'd better head to the clan house, Brody suggests before closing the link.

"She's on her way here," I announce, standing up so quickly that my stool clatters to the floor.

"And how will you show up, Ethan?" my mother inquires with a knowing smile.

"I'm not sure," I admit, running my fingers through my hair in agitation. "They are coming here. But why here?"

"Good question," she muses, sipping her coffee.

Before I can ponder her words further, Tyler bursts through the backdoor in his wolf form, clumsily shifting into a human as he scrambles to fix the screen door he just demolished.

"Sorry, sorry," he apologizes, naked and hastily setting the door back in place, which promptly begins to slide down the wall again.

"Where is she? Is she here yet?" he asks, scanning the kitchen anxiously.

"How did you get here so fast?" I grab a pair of pants from the chest by the door and toss them at him.

"I ran," he replies, dressing quickly. His gaze sweeps the kitchen again. "She's not here yet?"

"Ran?" my mother repeats, bemused by his haste.

"Yes," Tyler confirms, unfazed. "I was walking myself, you know, for the exercise."

A car engine cuts through the silence outside, sending Tyler sprinting through the house. I exchange a look with my mother, her smile crooked. Before I follow Tyler, I lean in to kiss her cheek. "Matthias will never be forgotten."

"No, he won't," she whispers, her voice heavy with memories. "Matthias Ethan Tyler was his full name."

The weight of my namesake leaves me momentarily lost for words, a lump forming in my throat. This newfound knowledge casts my parents and our pack in a new light, revealing the depth of their past decisions and the lives they've navigated.

"Clan meeting?" Tyler's grumble disrupts the silence as the front door closes behind him. "Like now? But you're here, can't we just?—"

"Go get Alpha Hughes and Beta Zane," Brody cuts in, his voice firm and authoritative.

The air tingles with tension and anticipation. As they enter the kitchen, my focus immediately shifts to Ava. Despite the disarray of her hair and Brody's scent enveloping her, the mark on her neck—a clear sign of his claim—ignites a fierce hope within me.

She chose us?I silently question through our bond, feeling my heart rate surge with anticipation.

Brody gives me a barely perceptible nod, confirming my hopes.

"Tempest," I whisper, my voice soft, reveling in the blush that spreads across Ava's cheeks.

"Hey," she responds, her gaze briefly meeting my mother's before she offers a shy smile.

"Mama Hughes," my mother says, rising to her feet, her eyes still red from tears but gleaming with warmth as she embraces Ava, welcoming her into our family.

For a moment, Ava seems caught off guard by my mother's warm embrace, but she soon melts into it, visibly relaxing. The hope within me swells, yet I force myself to remain cautious, not wanting to get ahead of myself.

Zane's booming voice fills the house. "Clan meeting? Boy, who gave you the—Oh."

"Zane, this is Ava," my mother introduces, her voice laden with love and pride. "Our daughter."

"It's about damn time we got one of those," Zane remarks, acknowledging Ava with a nod. "Though you do smell a lot like Brody."

Ava's reaction—her eyes widening and cheeks flushing with embarrassment—is priceless.

"Zane," Brody whines, clearly exasperated by the beta's blunt observation.

When my father enters, looking as disheveled as my mother did earlier, his casual attire starkly contrasting with the alpha persona he usually projects, the dynamic in the room shifts.

"Come meet Ava," my mother says, drawing him closer to formally welcome Ava.

The sight of my parents and Zane surrounding Ava, offering their acceptance and support, stirs a deep emotion within me. The thought of what could have been—a third man standing beside them—tugs at my heart, but witnessing their resilience and the strength they draw from each other is both awe-inspiring and deeply moving.

"It's lovely to meet you, Alpha Hughes," Ava says, her voice formal yet genuine.

"And you, Ava," he says, his voice tinged with a warmth usually reserved for Mom.

Ava licks her lips nervously and glances over her shoulder at Brody, who gives her an encouraging nod. "Is there somewhere we can talk?" she asks.

"Of course," Father replies. "Let's go into the study." He leads the way, with Zane, Mom, and the rest of us trailing behind.

Ava's nerves are palpable as we enter the study, her fingers trembling and her lip quivering. Brody gently guides her, with Tyler and me following her into the room.

As everyone finds a seat, I lean against the door, feeling somewhat out of place yet compelled to stay. Father reassures Ava. "This room is soundproof. Whatever is said here stays among us."

"Thank you." Ava's voice shakes. She takes a deep breath, takes a stack of papers from Brody, and places them on her lap, avoiding eye contact. "I don't know how to begin," she says, her voice faltering. "Tyler and I visited one of my father's properties last week."

It dawns on me then—she's sifted through the documents we recovered from her home, confronting her family's secrets on her own terms.

Father and I exchange a glance before his attention returns to Ava, who's struggling to continue. "This is hard for me," she admits, tears welling in her eyes. My instinct is to comfort her, but I hesitate, unsure if she'd welcome my touch.

Father's gaze flits to mine before going back to Ava, who has paused to chew on her bottom lip. "Ava?"

"My dad. I thought he was a good man," she says. "I thought so many things that little girls think. That he hung the moon and the stars, and that he'd always have my back. That he'd always do what was best for me."

"Ava." My father, who sits across from her on a chair, reaches out to rest a hand on her trembling one. "That is the least a father should do." She swipes at the tears dripping down her cheeks.

"Yeah, I know that now, but for him? It wasn't real." She steadies her breath. "My dad is the head of the Puritas Umbra."

The room falls into heavy silence, the weight of her revelation hanging in the air.

Father leans back, absorbing the news with a grave expression. "Are you certain?" he inquires, concern evident in his tone. "This information puts you in significant danger, Ava."

Nodding, Ava struggles to speak, her voice barely a whisper. "The house where my mom was murdered… It belongs to my father."

"It's okay, Ava," Brody says softly, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"It was hard for us to discover the owner," my father admits.

I promised her I would find the owner, but where I failed, she succeeded. While I might feel a twinge of failure for not fulfilling that promise myself, I'm overwhelmed with pride in Ava's bravery and determination.

"The police never investigated her death because…" Ava pauses, retrieving a specific folder. She hands it to Father, her hands shaking. "This lists all the current members of Puritas Umbra, including those embedded within the Mystic Falls police."

Father's reaction is immediate, his concern deepening as he processes the significance of Ava's discovery. The revelation not only exposes the depth of her father's deception, but it also reveals a broader conspiracy that threatens our very foundation. As we grapple with the implications of her findings, it's clear that Ava's courage has unveiled a dark truth that will irrevocably change our path.

"I thought it best if you had them," Ava continues, her voice carrying a determination that underscores the gravity of her findings. "There are houses, deeds, groups. There's enough information here to completely dismantle them." She pauses. "All of them."

"Ava," my father begins, his normally unshakeable demeanor giving way to shock. It's a rare sight to see him so visibly taken aback—a testament to the impact of my mate's revelation. "Th-This is," he stammers, glancing at Zane, who mirrors his astonishment, "invaluable."

"There's more," Ava adds, organizing the documents and placing them on the coffee table. "More than what's in that stack."

Brody offers her a supportive squeeze on the shoulder, while Tyler, uncharacteristically silent, stays rooted in a corner of the room.

"In the basement of that house, there was a cage with the scent of multiple shifters," Ava says, her voice trembling slightly. "It's probable that the other properties contain similar situations."

Zane's low growl fills the room, his frustration palpable.

"When I was at the Castellons' house, Elijah kept insisting he needed to kill my spirit. My father expressed similar sentiments," Ava continues, her voice catching. "They spoke of how long it took to break their wives' spirits."

"If you break the spirit," Tyler interjects, clearing his throat, "then spiritkin are trapped in human form."

"No," my father responds, his horror evident in his voice.

"I never imagined it worked both ways," Zane says, shaking his head. "Trapped in human form?"

"It's a fate worse than being stuck in wolf form," my father admits dejectedly.

"There's more," Ava bravely states. "It's likely many women who married into the Puritas are spiritkin, like my mother and Mrs. Castellon. They are human, but not whole. Not without their spirit form."

"Oh, Ava," my mother says, moving to embrace her, squeezing in beside her on the chair and wrapping her in a hug.

"With this information, we could turn the tide of their assaults," Zane muses mostly to himself. "None of you are to leave clan lands. It's not safe."

"Where are you going?" my father asks as Zane heads for the door.

"War room," Zane replies, already on his way out. "Wait." He pauses at the threshold of the door, his body sagging with a sigh before he turns around. "I met with your mother once."

Ava can't hold back the well of tears that spill over her cheeks.

"She was seeking asylum," Zane says. "For herself and her child."

Ava's bottom lip wavers, and she bites it. Each tear is like a strike against my soul.

"She never made it to our second meeting," Zane continues, "but I'll do right by your mama now and keep you safe, just like one of my own." With that, he leaves.

"Ava, thank you for this," my father says, acknowledging the significance of her contribution. "You have our full support for the mating. We owe you." He takes the documents and follows Zane out.

"I'll leave you with your mates," my mother says, pulling back from Ava, hope and sadness mingling in her eyes. "At least now we understand what happened to our women." She stands, offering me a knowing smile and mouthing, "Show her," before exiting.

As the door closes behind her, I face Ava, Brody, and Tyler. The weight of Ava's courage and the path it has set us on fills the room. It's time to mend the fractures my actions have caused, and there's no better moment to start than now.

Time to grovel.