The rising sun painted the world in gold, but Lucas felt no warmth.
This is how it has to be. He couldn't stop repeating it in his mind. The words tasted like rust on his tongue. He turned away—not towards home, not towards the direction of the pack lands, no grand exit, no dramatic last look.
Just one foot in front of the other, past the flickering neon lights of the motel sign. He stopped by the huge dumpster where Sebastian used to throw used condoms when they did it the first time.
He looked down at the jacket he was currently wearing. It was Sebastian's. He inhaled deeply, and without a heartbeat, he took it off and stared at it for a good few seconds before dumping it inside the dumpster.
This is it. I am finally doing it.
The morning light gilded the pavement, turning potholes into pools of molten amber. He stared at the harsh light, eyes squinting when he felt his phone buzz.
Probably Max asking where he would be patrolling or Lucian asking him to patrol with him. Maybe even Sebastian—some half-assed Are you good? text that didn't mean what Lucas would pretend it did.
He didn't check.
Because he knew, somewhere behind him, Sebastian's car was slicing through the dawn, hands soon to curl around Beatrice's waist, mouth forming words Lucas would never hear.
And him? Just good ol' Lucas.
Bond writhing in his chest like a dying cat, Sebastian's ghostly fingertips on his skin, already fading.
He stepped over the potholes carefully, as if his boots could still be stained by something as simple as dirty water.
He walked past the 24-hour diner where they used to share pancakes at the ungodly hour of 3 AM, their laughter syrup-sweet.
The city woke up around him: a barista unlocked a cafe, an old man walked a dachshund, and a child kicked a soda can down the sidewalk as the city awoke around him. They were ordinary people, dealing with ordinary problems.
Lucas envied them violently.
His phone buzzed in his pocket. Pack messages. Max's demands. Maybe even Sebastian's reluctant Did you get home okay?
He put it in airplane mode.
One step. Then another.
So, this is how you unlove someone, he thought to himself. The city inhaled around him, buildings rising like the ribs of some massive beast.
One step. Then another. Not toward anything. Just away.
—
Sebastian's room smelled like stale Earl Grey tea and the lavender candle Beatrice had left burning last week. His door clicked shut behind him, too loud for his siblings' liking, but he never cared.
Sebastian took his phone out from his pocket, thumb swiping across the screen before he'd even toed off his shoes.
No messages.
No "Made it home" text. No sarcastic "You know, I just imagined you in fuchsia pink, and I never laughed so hard in my entire life" follow-up. Just the blank glow of the screen, throwing the shadows across his palms.
"Hmm, odd." He tossed the phone onto the couch. "Pack meeting must be dragging on," he muttered to the empty room.
He looked at his old record player, sitting dusty in the corner. He'd been collecting vintage vinyls for months now, ever since Lucas had drunkenly confessed he loved 80s rock.
A perfect courting gift, or so he'd been told. He was planning to give them as a courting gift to Lucas to show that he would do everything to win his favor.
Sebastian swallowed hard as he wiped dust off of the first record. The needle squeaked as it made contact with the groove. He turned the volume down to the middle, where he could still hear the fridge humming from the kitchen.
Music filled the room, thick as the humidity clinging to his skin. Remembering the first time he had met Lucas.
Beatrice's laugh, bright as the umbrella she'd twirled between them. Lucas, lurking behind her like a storm cloud in a leather jacket. Beatrice, who had been grumbling for weeks about her "loner friend who never socializes," dragged Lucas along.
Sebastian could still remember how Lucas smelled like pine needles and gunpowder. How his hands wrapped tight around his coffee cup like he was afraid it might run away.
And those eyes. Those brown eyes, but not ordinary. The kind of brown that held a glint of gold if anyone looked long enough.
He saw them. Sebastian had looked far too long.
A shiver had crawled down his spine that day. Not by fear or disgust, but by something worse. A recognition…that could cause a war.
He stared at his phone. Its black screen was staring back at him.
"Weird," he muttered, reaching for it again.
He opened their last texts:
[Yesterday, 11:48 PM] Lucas: Sorry, barely escaped Dad's clutches. Still at the motel?
[Yesterday, 11:52 PM] Sebastian: Room 134. Bring an extra condom and coffee.
[Yesterday, 11:53 PM] Lucas: Dude, first of all, ew. Second, hell no. You said we are doing raw this time.
[Yesterday, 11:58 PM] Sebastian: Change of plans. Now get in here before I change my mind.
[Now, 12:00 AM] Lucas: You're lucky I like you.
He looked at his watch and blinked. 8:35 AM. He left the motel at 6:45 a.m., drove to Beatrice's house, ate breakfast at 7:15 a.m., and then reached home at 7:45 a.m.
Calculating Lucas' time from when he left the motel, "He should've arrived at the pack meeting at exactly 7:50 AM."
Pack meetings never ran this long. Sebastian had witnessed it before, when he used to stalk Lucas from afar.
Sebastian rubbed his chest where something ached. Yet he ignored it, probably just that shitty motel mattress. He sat up from his bed, walked towards the record player, and turned the music louder.
He will text. I know he will, he muttered in his mind. Trying to make sense of everything, yet the words fell flat in his heart. The bond pulsed—once sharp, like a muffled scream. Sebastian rubbed his sternum again.
Heartburn, probably.
He went out of his room, straight to the kitchen, to drink a glass of water. His sister, Rachelle, looked at him with worry.
"Are you okay, Sebastian? You look rather…pale."
Sebastian scoffed, turning his body towards her direction and smiling, "I've always been pale, Rachelle."
Rachelle rolled her eyes, "Whatever." Sebastian ducked his head as he laughed softly at his sister, who went back to where her mate was.
He stared at them, longing evident in his eyes. Soon, Lucas and I will do the same.