"Tell me what's been going on with you," Cloud demanded as a smile broke out on his face.

I raised a brow. "Isn't that what I should be asking you? You're the one that's been traveling to goddess knows where."

Cloud dismissed me. "We can talk about that later. It's been forever since we talked and the last time I saw you there was that man at your house. Not to mention, I clearly haven't been the only one traveling." The mention of Nixon made me smile, and Cloud let out a laugh. "Your face says it all, Tatum."

I rolled my eyes. "Nothing big has happened. I was simply visiting another pack."

"Really?" He questioned, and I nodded. "And what about the man?"

"He was Alpha of the pack I was visiting."

"That's all he was?" Cloud's brow raised. "You're just friends?"

Far from. Friends wasn't an accurate description. Most people didn't French kiss their friends, and most people definitely didn't have sex with their friends.

"Judging by your face, clearly not," Cloud snickered.

I rolled my eyes again. "Shut up."

Cloud stared at me teasingly. "What? I'm just asking questions about what's been happening in my friend's life. Is that suddenly a crime?"

"For you, yes. Yes, it is."

Cloud shrugged. "So you're dating him?"

"Not exactly."

Cloud hummed. "Fuck buddies, then?"

A wave of distaste filled me. I didn't like that description either. "No."

Cloud tilted his head. "So, what are you?"

That was the real question.

"He's my..." my voice trailed off. "He's my Nixon?" There was a brief pause before Cloud burst into laughter, and I rolled my eyes and lightly shoved him. "Shut up."

"It's cute," Cloud shrugged once he calmed down. "So you haven't talked about labels yet."

There was a lot Nixon, and I hadn't talked about when it came to our relationship. We hadn't actually taken the time to talk about it in detail. Typically, it ended with us having sex, and while I wasn't necessarily opposed to that ending, it did cause problems when it came to understanding where each of us was currently thinking in terms of what we were.

I knew this was more than a simple fuck buddy relationship when Nixon told me that he liked me, but I didn't know just how far "like" actually went. I did know, however, that C I was definitely past the like stage. While I wouldn't go as far as to say love, I wanted to see where we went. I wanted to give this a chance. Embarrassingly enough, he took up a lot of space in my mind.

"Not yet," I said, and Cloud frowned.

"Why'd you suddenly get sad?"

Sad wasn't the word to describe what I was feeling. It was more like worry.

"Tell me about your trip," I told Cloud in an attempt to change the subject.

His hands crossed over his chest. "Tatum, come on."

I could tell he wasn't going to let it go, so I sighed and leaned back against the couch. "I guess I'm worried. Worried about if this is a good decision. Being with him, I mean."

Cloud's head tilted. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't even know what he thinks," I said, and then there was the other growing fear: he'd leave or that something would happen.

I was worried that I'd get attached, only to lose him just as I had my mate. I couldn't take having someone else slip through my hands like that—not Nixon. I was worried this would all be a big mistake in the end.

"You know what you feel, though. You won't know until you see," Cloud argued. I remained quiet, and Cloud sighed. "Do you really plan to remain alone for your whole life, Tatum? Sometimes you have to put yourself out there even if you do get hurt in the end. I know you know that."

There were a lot of factors that told me I shouldn't pursue a relationship with Nixon but fuck. I really did like him. I liked how his smile lit up a room; I liked how he was so expressive; I liked that he never hid his feelings—there was so much about him that I liked.

When he first came, if someone told me I'd be in this predicament, I would've thought it was some cruel joke. But now? Now it was getting—no, it already was serious.

"Alright, enough about my love life. Let's talk about something else," I told Cloud.

He stared at me for a moment before nodding and switching the topic. We talked about his travels with Raiden and him visiting his brother., We also talked briefly about Reo, but I made sure not to mention the pregnancy situation since I knew that Reo didn't want anyone to know just yet.

Our conversation went on for almost two hours before I finally got up to leave, but only after I agreed to meet up with him again soon. Knowing that the two of us were on good terms made me feel a lot better.

I left the house and walked around my pack. I stopped by to talk to members and see the happy faces. Young children ran around with their parents and friends, laughing without a card in the world. The change was big considering where we had been only a few months before. It made me happy to see it.

Eventually, I did head back home, and it immediately felt as if something had shifted. I walked into the house and closed the door. It didn't take me long to find Reo; I knew the change had to be because of him. He sat on the couch, and while the TV was playing, I knew he wasn't actually focusing on it.

"Reo?" I called out to him. "Are you okay?"

I instantly regretted asking the question, and before I could say anything else to redeem it, he snapped his head to me with a glare. "Do I look okay?"

He didn't. He looked worse than before. He'd clearly been crying earlier, and his hair was a mess, indicating that he'd ran his hand through it one too many times.

"I—"

"Forget it," he sighed. "I'm going to go."

He stood up and moved toward the stairs. Before he could get too far, I reached out and grabbed his wrist.

"Wait," I called out to him.

Reo attempted to yank his arm out of my grip, but I didn't let him. His face twisted into a scowl. "Let go."

"Where are you going?" I asked, ignoring the previous command. "Back to Archer's? Looking like you got ran over by a truck? You know as well as I do, if not better, that they're only going to pry, and then you'll snap—"

"Because you know so fucking much, right, Tatum? Just fuck off!" He shouted.

I couldn't understand where the anger was coming from. He had been the one to ask me to come down here, we talked, and now it felt like I was the fucking bane of his existence.

"Why are you acting like this? I know you're going through a lot, but—"

"You know nothing!" He snapped. "That's just it, Tatum. You know nothing! We may have lived together, but that's it. You don't know shit, so stop acting like you do."

"We're family, Reo. I know you a lot better than you'll ever want to admit, and I know you know the same about me," I told him stubbornly.

His eyes went cold, and his hand slipped from my grip. "No, we're not."

The words crushed me. As I stared at him, I could feel the divide growing between us. It felt like we were mountains or oceans apart from one another.

"I was your beta, Tatum, and nothing more. That was the reason your parents took me in, and now I'm not even that. Get over yourself."

"What the fuck are you even talking about?" I laughed dryly as my own anger blossomed. "We've spent too many years together for you to be saying that shit. I get it. You're trying to pull away after finding out you were pregnant. Fine. But don't ever undermine the bond we had. Don't make it appear as if our family was superficial. They loved you, and I did too. I still do," I met his glare with one of my own. "You want to go? Fine, go then, Reo. I won't stop you."

He stared at me for a few moments before disappearing up the stairs, and I could hear the sound of his suitcase opening as he began to pack. Pain erupted inside of me, but I didn't dare to go upstairs and try to stop him. I knew Reo; I knew he was pulling away out of fear; I knew he was taking his anger out on me because of how close we were; I knew this would only be temporary.

And yet, despite knowing all this, when he came down with his suitcases in hand and walked past me without so much as a glance, something inside of me broke. The eight-year-old child who hid behind Dad's leg when he first came home flashed through my mind, the ten-year-old who would help Mom make cookies on the weekends, the thirteen-year-old who stared at me with eyes full of excitement when he shifted for the first time.

As he opened the door, I watched as all those memories disappeared, and instead, I was left staring at the broken twenty-three-year-old. His eyes looked as if they were calling out to me, and everything inside of me begged to take a step toward him and help—begged me to take away his pain—but it was like I was frozen in spot. I couldn't do anything but stare at him as he grabbed his bags and shot me one last look before stepping outside.

And the door shut.

And with along with it, so did our bond. It felt like every promise we had made to each other had been destroyed in that singular moment. The warmth that used to fill me when I saw him was replaced with a harsh coldness, and my mind stopped. The only thing that remained was the promise he had made me before he went to Archer's pack.

"This is only temporary, Tate," Reo sighed.

"I know," I said, but there was an evident sense of doubt in my voice.

Reo frowned and turned to me. He snapped his fingers in order to make me look up at him and stared into my green eyes.

"Listen, I'm going to come back. At the end of the day, you're still my brother, and I'm still your beta. Don't start getting crazy ideas into your head. This isn't going to change anything."

"Are you sure?" I asked him with a raised eyebrow.

Reo rolled his eyes. "Quit doubting me. Of course, I am. How long have we been together now? Fifteen years? Come on; we're stronger than that."

We're stronger than that.

I turned and headed up the stairs to my room and opened the drawer on one of the dressers sitting beside my bed. I dug around until I found a picture. Sitting just outside the house was Reo and me. The picture had been taken on my tenth birthday, almost a year after Reo had joined our family.

My eyes closed, and I let out a shaky breath. Maybe we weren't as strong as we thought we were, after all.