Chapter 2 LUCIAN

Lucian’s POV.

It was exactly as I remembered.

The packhouse stood tall and proud, its stone walls stretching into the gray sky like it hadn’t aged a day. The house I grew up in. The house I swore I’d never set foot in again.

I never thought I’d be back. In fact, I vowed I wouldn’t.

“You’re a coward! So you’d really leave behind everything I’ve worked for? You’d really watch this pack crumble rather than take responsibility like the Alpha you should be?”

I could still hear my father’s voice, sharp and bitter, echoing through the years. The weight of his disappointment hadn’t dulled with time. If anything, it clung to me tighter the closer I came. It was like the walls themselves remembered his words, throwing them back at me.

But I wasn’t here for pleasure. Not for reconciliation.

I was here for Adrian.

My brother. My little brother.

He was gone.

I still hadn’t wrapped my head around it. The words felt like ash in my mouth, no matter how many times I repeated them. Adrian was gone.

The call came in the dead of night. Elder Orion’s voice had been grave, every syllable a stone sinking into my chest.

“Lucian…he’s dead.”

I tightened my grip on the duffle bag slung across my shoulder, drawing in a slow breath. Each step toward the massive oak doors felt heavier than the last.

I wasn’t ready. I would never be ready.

But I kept walking.

I didn’t get far before I was spotted.

“Oh my God! Lucie, my boy.., you’re here. You really are here.”

The familiar voice hit me like sunlight through storm clouds. I barely had a second before a plump, citrus-scented woman barreled into my arms. I smiled despite the heaviness pressing on me and wrapped her tight in return.

“Of course I’m here, Josie. Of course I am.”

Josie.

Our cook. Our nanny. The woman who’d practically raised me. She had been there from the day I was born, more mother to me than my own ever bothered to be. The warmth in her hug nearly undid me. I hadn’t realized just how much I missed her until that very second.

She pulled back just enough to look at me, and then her hand landed squarely on my chest.

“How could you not even call…”

Another smack.

“I tried reaching out, but you’d already changed your number! And Orion, that old fool, he wouldn’t let me have the new one!” she scolded, her round face pinched with indignation, though her eyes were already wet.

The old fool was Elder Orion. The pack’s doctor. Josie’s husband.

I chuckled softly, catching her wrists before she wound up for another hit. “I’m sorry, Josie. I really am. I just… needed time. And I knew if I heard your voice, I wouldn’t be able to stay away.”

My smile faltered into something sadder, thinner. “I missed you terribly. Especially your cooking. Those humans out there… they can’t cook for shit.”

Josie’s stern expression cracked, a small laugh escaping her. For a moment, it almost felt normal. Almost.

“Well, enough of that,” she sniffled, waving her hand as if brushing away her own tears. “I’ll have my talk with you later, young man.” Her voice softened then. “I assume you want to see him?”

My chest tightened. She didn’t have to say his name.

“Where is he?”

“He’s still at the morgue. At the hospital. Orion’s over there too, sorting things out.”

The words dragged heavy and slow.

“What happened, Josie?” My voice came out small, rougher than I intended.

Her lip trembled. “The rogues, Lucie… they gutted him. I couldn’t even look at him after.” The dam broke, her sobs spilling raw and uncontained. “Something like this has never happened before. I don’t know what went wrong. I don’t know…” Her words tangled in grief, barely holding form. “He asked for breakfast before he left. Just breakfast, Lucie. I told him to go on, that I’d feed him when he came back. But he never did. He never came back. He didn’t even have a proper meal before he left.” She clutched at her apron, her voice breaking into a desperate wail. “Oh Goddess, why would they do this? Why him?”

Tears blurred my vision. I swallowed hard, pulling her into my arms once more. My hand rubbed soothing circles on her back, though my own body trembled.

“It’ll be fine, Josie. It’ll be fine,” I whispered, though the words felt hollow even as I said them.

But I needed to believe it.

Because if I let myself believe otherwise, I’d fall apart.

“I’ll go see him now,” I murmured into her hair. “And I promise, I’ll get to the bottom of this. Whatever it takes.”

That wasn’t just a promise to her. It was a vow. To Adrian. To myself.

Josie pulled back, fishing a small handkerchief from her apron to dab at her swollen eyes. Her gaze lingered on me for a long moment before she said quietly, “The kids, Lucie… you should meet the kids.”

I frowned. “Kids?”

I knew Adrian had a child. I was prepared for that. But kids? Plural? That was news.

Her eyes widened. “Oh my God, you didn’t know?”

My stomach dropped.

“Lucian,” she said, voice trembling with disbelief. “Adrian had triplets. Two girls and a boy.”

The world seemed to tilt beneath me.

“He… what?”

“You heard what happened to Elisa, right?”

“Yes.”

Elisa. Adrian’s mate. She died during childbirth. I had grieved for him then, from afar. I thought I understood the weight of his loss. I thought I knew.

But I hadn’t known this.

“They’re triplets, Lucian,” Josie whispered. Her voice was sharp with hurt now. “How could you never reach out? Even after hearing about her death? After knowing he was left alone with three newborns?”

I bowed my head, shame burning hot across my skin. Every excuse I’d fed myself over the years sounded pathetic in the face of her truth. I left. I stayed gone. And in doing so, I left Adrian to carry a weight he should never have carried alone.

“Where are they?” My voice was hoarse.

“They’re still in bed. Go see him first. When you return, they’ll be up by then.”

I nodded, setting my duffle bag down on the worn leather sofa. My hand lingered on it for a moment before I straightened, jaw tight.

“I’ll make this right, Josie,” I promised. “I swear it.”

Her eyes glistened, but she said nothing more as I stepped out the door.

The morning air hit sharp and cold, like it wanted to peel back every layer I’d built around myself. My feet carried me toward the hospital, but my mind was already far behind me, back in the house, back in the echoes of my father’s voice, back in the pieces of myself I’d left scattered across this place.

This was the home I abandoned.

Now I was walking back into its heart to see my brother’s body.

One last time.