Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Goldie

“We’re walking there?” I ask, looking up at Aldair as he takes the lead into the forest. The path along the meadow leads us right into the thick of the trees.

After my embarrassing attempt at making breakfast, Cillian took over, and cooked up the most delicious pancakes. I think I ate thirty-six. Okay, not really, but I did eat at least ten. They were so good, and the syrup was unlike anything I’ve ever tasted.

I lick my lips and swear I can still taste the sweetness of it. Cillian smirks at me, and I shrug.

“It was yummy,” I sass, making him chuckle.

“Yes, I believe you said that a few times.”

“I’ve never had pancakes,” I add, and Aldair turns around, eyes wide as he looks at me, staring.

“Never?” he asks, and I huff. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.

“Like I said, I usually steal Bear’s carrots. If I had pancakes as an option, do you think I’d be resorting to theft?” My answer is snarky, and I can tell by the look in his brown eyes, that I’ve hurt Aldair’s feelings a bit with my attitude.

“I’ve never eaten chicken,” Cillian suddenly says, and it’s my turn to gawk. I’ve had chicken, and rabbit. Rarely, but those aren’t considered such a luxury in my village, the way pancakes and other sweets are.

“But–” I start, but I’m cut off.

“There was an incident when I was younger,” Aldair says, cutting off whatever Cillian was about to say. “Let's just say Ma doesn’t eat her chickens, only their eggs. And she’s the one that taught Cill to cook. He doesn’t even know how to prepare them. Honestly, it’s a miracle he knows how to cook anything with meat, considering Ma’s attachment to animals. But there are exceptions. Old age and injury. Trade.”

“Long story short, they’re her pets, and we don’t kill Ma’s pets,” Cill smirks at Aldair, and I sense there’s a deeper story there. Maybe they’ll share it with me one day. Guilt nags at me… I should tell them how I ended up in their house to begin with. Soon. Maybe.

“Oh, that makes sense,” I say, nodding, as I try to shove the rising anxiety in my chest away. I don’t want to think about everything I ran from right now.

“Anyway, to answer the question we ignored, yes we’re walking. Ma doesn’t live far from here, and we have plenty of time to get there,” Cillian answers, walking beside me. I notice Kylan doesn’t try to get very close to me, instead keeping a gap between us. Right now, he’s a few feet behind his brothers and me.

Cillian, however, seems like he can’t get close enough to me. He doesn’t touch me often, but the gap between him and me is usually quite small. Aldair is somewhere in the middle of the two men. Sometimes he’s close enough to catch the deeper notes of his scent, other times he keeps his distance.

I hold in the grumble of disappointment that wants to slip free when I think about them being too far away. What has come over me?

When we step deeper under the canopy of trees, I feel safe this time, instead of the plaguing fear of the unknown I had before. Cillian holds back the branches from smacking into me as I carefully follow his steps. The quiet of the surrounding forest speaks of sleeping animals and peace rather than the danger of mythical beasts. It’s odd. I haven’t felt this sense of safety around others since I lost my sweet mother. The memories of her face and voice have all faded over time, but I remember the love. The way she made me feel. I miss that. I miss her.

“If you get tired, just let me know. I’ll carry you,” Cillian offers with a wicked grin. They gave me a pair of boots that fit perfectly. They were a little too bothered by my inadequate footwear, if you ask me. Why do they care about my feet? And where did they get shoes that fit just right? Do they have an Omega? The thought causes a growl to rise in my throat, and I smack a hand over my mouth before it slips free.

And why am I suddenly checking that each of them has acceptable shoes? Why do I care? Maybe I should leave. I would like to have my wrist looked at by their mother, but…it’s already starting to feel better.

It’s my responses to these men and my inability to explain my reactions to them that irritates me as we move through the forest. Not why I like these men so much, and not why I trust them. Especially not the fact that I have no desire to leave. It’s the confusion I find bothersome. It’s like my mind is at war with my heart and body. I’m drawn to them, there’s no doubt about that, but why?!

This can’t be healthy. Is this what Omegas usually feel when they meet a compatible Alpha? I haven’t considered it before… Of course, I’ve never met a compatible Alpha, so I wouldn’t know.

I’m following them blindly through the forest, not the least bit scared, as I think it over. Their scents are the most delectable I have ever smelled. Physically, they are extremely attractive. They each have a uniqueness to them that intrigues me. Cillian’s playful and teasing nature. Kylan’s shyness and care for animals. Aldair’s quiet strength and simmering looks.

By the time I realize I never answered Cillian, it would be awkward to suddenly reply, so I just remain silent as we walk. I don’t think I would mind being carried, if it meant I could be pressed against all those muscles…

I smell smoke and hear the squawking of chickens before I see the little cottage, but it’s only a few more steps before we break through the tree line, and it comes into view. Thank goodness, too, my thoughts were headed down a questionable path.

I stop dead in my tracks, stunned by the overwhelming sense of joy just the sight of this home brings.

In front of us lies a log home with a stone chimney to the side, giving off a slow curl of smoke from the metal vent at the top. The thatched roof and simple siding are sturdy and have weathered well. The porch holds planters of all sizes, with flowers and herbs sitting along the rails and hanging from the overhanging roof. A low bench sits beneath the window by the front door. Throughout the surrounding yard, a collection of well cared for animals graze happily. An old brown and white speckled hound watches over them while a cluster of younger pups dance around his legs. As soon as he spots the Alphas, he barks in excitement.

It’s so homey and cute. The cottage itself isn’t massive, but large enough that a few people could live here easily. Compared to my nightmare of a home, this place is a paradise.

A smile stretches across my cheeks, and I look up at Cillian, who’s watching me.

“You ready to meet Ma?” Cillian asks, and I nod with excitement.

“I am. Her home is breathtaking,” I tell him, letting him see how genuine my words are as I meet his eyes, and Cillian graces me with a grin that lights his face up.

“She’ll be glad to hear you say so. Come on, I can feel her excitement from here,” he chuckles. “Kylan came down yesterday and let her know we were bringing you by today.” He greets the hound that ambles over and introduces the graying old boy as Fox.

Before I can move to greet the hound, the slamming of a door draws my attention to the cottage.

“Boys!” the older woman says brightly, and as the sun shines down on her through the parted trees, my lungs seize, and I stumble forward a step. “I am so excited to meet you! Kylan refused to tell me your name. He insisted I hear it from you, so you’ll have to forgive me. My name is–”

“Alma…” I whisper, as tears fill my eyes, and a body rocking sob escapes my chest. “Aunt Alma…” The smile falls from her face, as she comes to a stop at the gate of her fence. She stares at me for a moment, before gasping.

“Goldie… No, it can’t be…” She shakes her head like she doesn’t believe it’s me. “Oh, my sweet one…” she whispers, her voice cracking as she swings the gate open, and walks over to me in a hurry.

My tears fall freely, as something in my heart aches deeply. I thought she was dead. I never imagined I’d see her again, and nearly sixteen years later, here she is.

“Is it really you?” I whisper, feeling like I’ve just stepped into a dream. Alma scoops me into her arms, hugging me more fiercely than I expected.

“It’s me, sweet one. It’s really me,” her voice cracks, as she tries to hold back her emotions, probably trying to be strong for me.

“What’s happening?” Kylan asks from somewhere behind me, but all my attention is on the woman holding me. She smells so familiar, as a feeling I had long forgotten blooms in my chest. Family. Happiness. Love. Unconditional, unrelenting love.

“Ma is Goldie’s aunt,” Aldair says, sounding just as confused as Kylan.

“Where have you been?” I can’t help but demand through the tightness in my throat. I’m overwhelmed, not sure if I want to keep crying or demand answers. Why’d she leave me?

“Here, Goldie, I’ve been here. Come inside, there’s so much to discuss.” Alma sniffs, releasing me from the hug, only to take my hand and start pulling me toward her home.

“Do you want some space, Ma?” Aldair asks, and she nods.

“Thank you, boys. I’ll come find you when we’re ready.” She reaches out to pat Aldair’s shoulder as we pass him, and he inclines his head to her, before he glances my way. He doesn’t say anything, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking as he takes in the sight of Alma holding my hand as we both cry.

“Thank you,” I whisper, meeting his eyes. I’m so fucking overwhelmed, but one thing I know for certain. My instincts about these three Alphas were right.

I know they’ll never harm me, because they were raised by my mother’s older sister, who loved and adored me beyond measure, and because of them, she and I are reunited sixteen years after I thought she died.

“I left because I was being accused of causing your mother’s death,” Alma sighs once we’re inside with a cup of tea each. She pushes her blonde hair, so much like my own, off her neck as she sits next to me. We’re pressed together on her old, but very comfortable couch. “I had expected your father would protect you. Treat you well. He loved your mother so much.” Alma sniffs, and I let out a sad scoff.

“He married Talia three days after she died. Allowed her to abuse me, abused me himself, and then sold me to Donald when I was sixteen. The wedding was supposed to be two days ago, but I ran,” I spit the words at her, my venom for the people who hurt me, not my aunt, but I can tell they land like a physical blow. “Your…sons,” I add, even though I know Alma is a rare Delta, who can’t have children. And Aldair is older than I am. “They found Bear, and I guess I found them.”

“I found them once, too. The same day I ran.” Alma lets out a heavy sigh, as she turns to face me, taking my hand in hers once she puts her cup of tea down. “They’re not mine, as I’m sure you know. But their history is their story to tell. Give them time, and they’ll reveal everything to you.” She waits for me to nod, before continuing. “All I will say is that their parents died that day too, so I took them in because they had no one else, and it was the right thing to do. But I love them like they’re my own. The way your mother loved you. I’m sorry I didn’t bring you with me, Goldie. I thought your father was a better man. I assumed you would be safer with him, than on the run with me.” Tears glisten in her eyes before streaking down her cheeks.

“I believe you, and I forgive you. You couldn’t have known he’d turn against me so badly,” I whisper, not wanting to talk about my father any longer. I can’t help but wonder what the Alpha’s stories are. Their parents died the same day my mother died. The day I lost Alma, was the day she found them. We share a bond of tragedy.

“What do you say I look at your arm now, hmm?” she asks, and I smile.

“Please. Though it’s not feeling as bad as before,” I admit as she rises to grab her supplies.

“Come sit, while I grab everything.” She gestures to her table closer to the kitchen. The homey cottage is just as quaint on the inside as it was charming on the outside. Herbs and dried flowers sit on a collection of shelves in pretty arrangements that I am sure have some purpose.

The little table we currently sit at holds a beautiful constellation carving that I am betting was carved by the same craftsman as the table at home. We’re quiet, as Alma takes off the bandage Cillian gave me, and inspects my injury.

“This looks fantastic for only two days of healing,” she says, prodding it to check my response to the pain, before she rubs something smelling of herbs all over the slightly bruised area. I frown as I look at the wrist I was sure was broken.

“Maybe I heal fast, after so many injuries,” I chuckle, trying to shake off the darkness of my past with a joke, but Alma doesn’t laugh. Instead, she gives me a look filled with sadness and sympathy. It’s as she quietly studies my face that I notice a scar on her cheek that she doesn’t bother hiding. That wasn’t there the last time I saw her.

It looks old, and a little jagged. As she works on wrapping my arm, she glances up and catches me staring at it. I look away quickly, but Alma just smiles gently.

“A conversation for another day,” she says simply.

“I understand,” I offer a sad smile. I don’t want to talk about any of my scars, either.

“Maybe we should bring the boys in here. I think they’re getting restless. Can you hear them pacing?” Alma offers, her tone teasing. A spark of excitement at seeing the Alphas has me grinning as I nod my head in agreement.

“How’s her injury?” Aldair asks, when the front door opens, as if we summoned him just by talking about them. Alma smiles like she expected him to appear the moment she mentioned inviting them inside.

“Healing quickly. Faster than I expected for a break.” She holds Aldair’s eye contact, giving him a look that I can’t interpret. “I think it was probably just sprained.”

“Oh.” He looks intrigued, as he stares at my arm. Cillian is pushing through the open door, and coming over to my side to check on me the second his brother is out of his way.

“I’m glad to hear you’re healing. Do you ladies want to explain?” Cillian asks, gesturing between the two of us, and Alma lifts a brow at him like she expects him to have all the answers already. “She’s your niece?” he prompts, of course, he heard as much when we were outside, but Alma still nods. “And the day you saved us was the last day you saw Goldie, the same day you left your old village?” Another nod from Alma. “Hmm,” Cillian grunts, before turning to me. “Are you feeling okay? I know this must have been a lot to take in.”

“I am. I’m just in shock, I think,” I say with an awkward laugh. “I never thought I’d see my Aunt Alma again,” I add, and Cillian smiles softly. Aunt Alma carries her supplies back to the small hutch near the fire to put away when Kylan walks in, keeping his head down as he joins us. I take a moment to observe the three of them now that I know a little more about their pasts.

These three Alphas were raised well, that much was already obvious, but now I know who raised them. The information changes so much about how I feel. I want to leave even less than I did before.

It’s obvious to me that Aldair is the oldest. The protector. The one that shoulders his family's burdens so they don’t have to. He enjoys his role as their guardian.

Cillian is clearly the middle brother. The playful, outgoing one. I get the sense there’s no line he wouldn’t cross for his family. He follows his older brother's lead and helps guide his little brother. I pity anyone who tried to come between Cillian and the ones he loves.

Then there’s Kylan. He’s a caretaker. The sweet and kind one. The most sheltered, probably because his older brothers have kept him out of danger his entire life. Right now he looks worried, maybe? I can’t read his body language well enough to know for sure, but it’s clear he’s unsure of his place. Either in his family, or just in this moment, I don’t know.

“You did an amazing job raising them,” I tell my aunt, who perks up at my words. “They’ve all been very kind.”

“Thank you, Goldie. It makes me glad that you think so.” She ruffles Cillian’s hair as she passes him. Alma knows the truth about how I ended up with them. It’s time I told them too, I think.

Getting a better understanding of how these men work together, how they care for each other and make their house a home, has me worried about where I might fit, though. My instincts tell me I belong in these Alpha’s lives, but I feel inadequate.

What value would I bring to any of them? I can’t cook, I’ve never built anything with my bare hands. I can clean, but that's something anyone can do. I have nothing worthwhile to offer any of them. I’m nothing but a–

“I don’t want to be a burden,” I say suddenly, the thoughts plaguing my mind slip from my lips. The four of them all look right at me and frown. Maybe they’re just as bothered by me, as I am. Maybe they already see me as a burden, in less than a full day.

“Why would you think you’re a burden?” Cillian asks gently, still kneeling beside me, but I’m already shaking my head, hating how emotional I’m being.

“I’ve always been a burden…” I whisper, feeling that emptiness in my chest like a void sucking me into the darkness. I’m not worthy of the life I’ve only just gotten a glimpse of.