That had been a long time ago. Orion had been about to turn nine years old when he first met Dylan, which would have made Dylan...seven. Orion curses under his breath, feeling old for the first time in his life.

The next eight years had seen them play together, grow together, share everything together, and those moments are the best memories of his life. Orion wonders just when he knew, when he realised that that wild boy in the river was more than just his rival and friend, but his soulmate too.

Something in him wonders whether he always knew. He had been drawn to him, couldn't ever bring himself to think ill of him, and had lived to protect him from that day on.

His stomach churns at all that he's missed.

The Alpha of Bluewood territory is not his boyhood friend and Orion wonders what has happened to him, what he's missed in the ten years that he's lived without him. There's an edge to Dylan now, an unfamiliarity that comes with time and experience. But also grief.

Orion determines that he wants to know. He has to.

Already he yearns to be close to him again, and he recognises the need, so much stronger than he had anticipated.

He stayed away for years, and in all honesty, it wasn't that hard. He missed his friend with everything in him, of course he did, but they had never made the initial connection that comes when two soulmates meet when they come of age.

There had been no impossible ache that came with distance, threatening to tear him in two. There had been no blinding insomnia to keep him up at night or trembling restlessness that drove him toward his mate. He had made sure of it. He had left before there could be.

But now there is.

The parting of soulmates isn't natural in wolves. They are bonded for life for the reason that they are meant to be together. And when they're not, their bodies and minds revolt. He feels the evidence of that fact now, his body and mind tearing apart like the red sea, his mood fluctuating wildly as every inch of him aches to close the distance that should never have been put between them.

Orion throws down his fist, slamming it against the solid wood of his desk. His dark, rich skin is pulled taught over his knuckles, his nails digging into the bed of his palms as he exhales shakily.

He can't be expected to live like this.

And how do you expect to lead like this?

He shakes his head, closing his eyes as he tries desperately to block out that voice. A voice that hasn't spoken aloud in nearly ten years, but lives on like a parasite in the darkest corners of Orion's mind.

This voice hisses, writhing like a malevolent snake as it reminds him over and over that he is doomed to fail. That he doesn't deserve to uphold the Vice family name, that he will never be half the man that came before him. But most of all it reminds him what a disappointment he is.

The boy has to learn.

Orion shudders, his hands flying up to tug at his hair, his fingers winding round the tight, dark coils, so much longer now than had ever been allowed back then.

Has he learnt everything he needs to know?

The owner of that parasitic voice inside his mind had been the villain of Orion's story, but he had also passed on some disturbing home truths. A pack was only as good as the Alpha who led them, and Orion yearns to be a deserving leader. A good leader. He needs to be one more than he needs anything else. Including Dylan.

He needs to prove himself, he needs everyone, himself most of all, to know that he's more than that vile voice in his head says that he is. Because if he doesn't?

Orion's expression drops as he leans back in his chair.

It doesn't bare thinking about.

Orion's eyes are heavy, his left eye twitching as his hand brushes against the stubble on his chin. It's been hours that he's been sat here. Or perhaps days? He glances at the clock and is unsure of whether it reads 5am or 5pm. He disregards it.

It doesn't matter.

His temper flares, his tiredness seizing his muscles and settling in his joints. He wants to sleep, he needs to rest.

He thinks of Dylan, curled up in his own bed, so far from him. For a moment the thought is beautiful and he yearns to live in it, to soak up the richness of this dream, just out of reach. But the thought sours and curdles in his mind. He resents the image.

How dare his mate just walk away from him?

How could he leave him like this? Does he not care for him at all?

Orion laughs bitterly, shaking his head as the sound bounces off the walls of his dimly lit study. The sound is hollow and frightening. His eyes are unfocused, narrowed and contorted into dark, piggy eyes much older than their years. His face too, in this dim lighting, seems to morph, resembling the portrait that hangs in the pack house. A portrait of a dictator, a tyrant. A man who fed off hate and greed. Who revelled in fear.

For just a second he swears he can feel his hair receding into the sides of his skull, his back hunching forwards as his lips draw back in a vile snarl. His thoughts cloud, a hateful, uncharacteristic shroud displacing every happy memory, every redeeming quality that lives in him.

In this second he hates his mate. He hates Alpha West. He hates Bluewood.

The selfishness of his mate blinds him, his own pain and suffering wrapping around his heart like vines, tugging him down, drowning him until he can see nothing of love, or joy, or light.

He stands up, a small smile tugging at his snarl.

This hate that feels like drowning has an unexpected upside, and that is power.

He feels it radiating through him, the feeling almost euphoric. At the bottom of this ocean that he has found himself in, he sees the reflection of a man who has never been a disappointment. A man who is confident, self assured. An Alpha.

He makes his way towards the door, his feet treading silently through the house as he follows the path that seems destined. He knows what he's got to do. It seems so simple.

The boy has to learn.

A shudder rocks through his body so violently that it stops him in his tracks for just a moment, and for a brief second he sees light at the bottom of this vast, hateful ocean.

No!

It's the voice of a little boy who never deserved the lessons he was taught. But it recedes as fast as it came.

He shreds his clothes, grinning at the gentle ache associated with shifting into his wolf. He wastes no time, tearing through the forest of his land with a single purpose. He is just metres from the river when another body crashes into his own.

Jaws are at his throat, sharp claws digging into his flesh as he gasps suddenly.

The pain is beautiful.

With it comes light, streaming through the darkness, showing him the way back and he clings to it. The pain increases, tethering him to the ground beneath him and he almost sighs in ecstasy. He shifts back and when the pain ebbs, he feels wonderfully empty. And tired. So tired that he is certain of a wonderful nights sleep and he is so happy he could cry.

"What the fuck are you doing?" A voice hisses.

Orion looks up, meeting the narrowed eyes of his Beta and he bursts into tears.

Kieran leans back, genuinely disturbed.

His body is covered with goosebumps, but it has nothing to do with the cool night air. For a second, when he had pinned his Alpha to the ground, he had been certain that it wasn't Orion at all.

But it couldn't have been...

He shakes his head. With every second that he looks at his Alpha, he returns to his true form. He solidifies, becoming real once more as the tricks of the moonlight fade. Kieran wants to laugh at the ludicrous idea that his Alpha was ever anything but real, but it doesn't seem very funny.

He bites his lip, tugging Orion towards him and into his arms.

"It's going to be okay." He murmurs, clutching Orion tightly.

When Kieran gets Orion back to the pack house, he isn't surprised to see him fall asleep before his head hits the pillow. He checks his watch, wondering just how many days Orion has been awake, trying and failing to rest.

His heart sinks with guilt, knowing that he had missed the signs. He dreads to think what might have happened tonight if he hadn't...

Kieran shakes his head.

He vows from now on to be a good Beta, and more importantly a better friend to Orion, who seemingly needs him now more than ever. He also vows to slip Orion a sedative every now and then if need be.

He smiles to himself and returns to his room, lingering for a second in the doorway.

His eyes return to the face of his Alpha, wandering the familiar features. He looks the same as always, and Kieran's shoulders sink in relief.

Regardless, when Kieran closes his eyes that night he sees what he had seen by the river, what he would have sworn was just his imagination had he been awake.

He sees the familiar, twisted snarl of hate, the dark, beady eyes and the withered skin pulled tight around his thinning hair. He sees the aged, dead face of Alpha Reece Vice.

Orion's father.