My Forgotten Mate

Oakish

Henry's POV

I stood in my studio, I had completed Amelia's drawing and ever since I finished, I had been staring at it without moving. Amelia and her friend Alice had been largely impressed at how detailed the image had turned out to be, it was a masterpiece.

Amelia and her friend had left not long ago, much to the dismay of my mother who had made several efforts to convince the girl to stay a little longer, I had recognized the fact that my intervention would have convinced the girl to oblige my mother's requests and stay a while longer than was necessary and for that reason solely, I hadn't lent my support to the idea, ensuring that she left with her friend when she did.

Mother was quite annoyed with my behaviour and the look on her face told the story of the anger in her heart. I focused on the painting partly in avoidance of her angry stare and partly in appreciation of the painting that hung in front of me, I didn't want to get into another random argument with her concerning my love life and how much I wasn't interested in discussing the prospects of a potential mate at this point, she had to understand that I didn't see it as a priority right now.

"I honestly hope you're not doing this intentionally in some sick bid to hurt me", she spoke coldly as she watched the car I had sent for Amelia and her friend carry them away.

I hadn't expected her to react in the manner that she had, and neither had I expected that she would blackmail me emotionally into doing what she wanted. I dropped my head from looking at the painting, this was a fight I knew deep within me that I couldn't win, there was no use fighting.

"Mother, you're not being fair....."

"I don't care what I am Henry, you have stayed cooped up in this studio since I lost George, you haven't been outside with me, you have never accompanied me anywhere, you didn't even attend the funeral, I have spent a larger part of the time which I should have spent mourning my husband caring for you. He was your father!!!", she screamed.

The edge in her voice sent a chill under my skin, It hurt me deeply to hear my mother talk in this manner, for the best part, she was saying the truth and I couldn't deny the fact in the claims she was making, I had grown largely withdrawn after my father's death, My family had been quite influential within our pack and attending these functions without the support of her eldest son at her arm must have taken more of a toll than I realised.

I turned to look at Mother, I could see the tears streaming down her face, she had begun to sob gently with the anger still in her eyes. She stopped me with her eyes as I made to take steps towards her, taking backward steps in reaction to mine, she didn't want the usual hug and false promises I normally made to calm her whenever she got in this sort of mood, she demanded change and from what I saw, nothing less than that would satisfy her.

"Mother", I called, still trying to approach her.

She had turned away and was now walking as fast as she could away from me and out of the studio as she battled her tears, I had been powerless to stop them. I stopped myself, allowing her to go as I placed my hands akimbo on my hip, disappointed and disgusted with myself, what manner of a son brings their grieving mother more sorrow when they should be helping her heal?

I cast my gaze across the room, I carefully studied the features of the studio, it had served as my home ever since my father died, I barely slept in my bedroom as I had buried myself totally in my art, it was an escape, a relief from the anguish which thinking about my father's death brought me, there was no other way for me. It looked a mess, I could still see some packs of takeout I had bought and eaten within the studio, refusing to dine with my mother and brother to achieve as much seclusion from everyone in the household as possible. My encounter with Amelia had come as a result of one of the very few occasions when my mum had managed to convince me to leave the house, it had not come without effort, however, and I could see the hurt in my mother's eyes that she had to try as much as she did to get me to leave the house, it caused her great worry.

"You cause her more tears than you care to wipe away Henry", Merick's voice came from the doorway, he had been standing there for a while but I had chosen to ignore him and his presence, I was thinking of how best to address the friction that was constantly growing between me and mother as a result of my behaviour, or lack of it.

"I have not asked for a lecture Merrick, if that is what you have come for, you might as well leave, I have had an earful from mother before your arrival and I will have nor more from you", I responded distastefully as I continued my inspection of the room growing concerned with its current state as I did.

I heard his footsteps as he made his way into the studio, he seemed less eager to continue with the conversation he had begun upon hearing my response, he knew that this wasn't the time to push me, he knew how poorly I responded to pressure but yet he continued.

"You have to do something to sate mother Henry, your art is nothing short of amazing but I'm afraid mother has little interest in seeing her favourite son whisked away by it, you are in your prime and by right the head of this family, we're a strong family among werewolves and as the head of this family, you must understand the urgency of the issue of a mate, this cannot wait", Merrick continued, going straight to discuss what had brought him here seeing how his attempt to break the ice had failed woefully.

He walked up to me as he spoke till he was standing beside me, I grew uncomfortable with his presence but this was something I couldn't put off any longer, mother had made it clear that I needed to change if I wanted to put her at ease and Merrick had made more sense that I usually gave him credit for. This had earned a stare from me.

I turned towards him, He had grown into a fine young man, he was dressed neatly in a suit and his hair was properly groomed with his beard well trimmed and oiled as opposed to how disoriented I looked, he looked the part but it seemed mother wasn't content with having him by her side at all those functions she had attended, he was too inexperienced to play father's part, my part.

"You mustn't meddle in matters of which you have very little understanding Merrick", I said calmly as I turned away from him, I had no interest in arguing with my brother and in as much as I recognised the importance of the suggestion he was making, I preferred not to give him the satisfaction of taking his advice, I'd get through this on my own and I didn't need any interference from any one of them pushing me more than I could handle.

"You've always been stubborn with these issues Henry, look at mother, she's not supposed to be doing this with you, especially now that father's no longer here with us", Merrick insisted, my brother knew very well what little patience I had and for him to have chosen to speak to me about this as insistently as he had, he had more motivation to defend our mother than he had in his respect for me.

I walked once more to the painting of Amelia which continued to stare at the both of us non responsively, it looked far prettier than I had intended and I could feel Merick's distracted gaze sweep over it as he waited to hear my response, he would not leave without it.

"What would you suggest Merrick, you're quite familiar with the fact that we must all grieve in different ways and mine as you all have noticed remains isolation, I will not be rushed out of it because you both feel pressured by responsibilities and external impressions, we remain a strong family and nobody would dare make a move even with father absent from the picture", I pointed out, I had turned to face Merrick once more, looking him straight in the eyes as I spoke.

"There is a small town on the outskirts of the city, you could go there, you would be away from the rest of the family and appear here whenever you preferred. Mother wouldn't have to bother about your state of mind as she will not be reminded about it with every visit she pays to this place", Merrick responded in a controlled tone as he cast a condescending look at my studio, this wasn't the first time he had attempted to point out how much I needed to make the place look livelier without realising that the gloom of the studio was why it felt like home.

"You intend to take my place Merrick?", I asked as I took a few steps towards him, staring threateningly at him as I did.

"This is not about my ambition or your place Henry, this is about mother Henry, look at her!! she's a mess because of father's death and your inaction", Merrick shot back as he returned a gaze as fierce as the one I had given him, he wasn't backing down from this, at least not today, he seemed to have reached his breaking point and I could not intimidate him into keeping quiet any longer.

He turned away suddenly and made his way towards the door, he stopped all of a sudden and turned back towards me.

"I have made the necessary arrangements, I have rented you a fully serviced apartment, it will be rented for as long as you intend to stay, there is a car attached and I can make arrangements for an in-house studio to be set up if you so please, just think about it Henry, for mother." he finished before he left, I hadn't said a word in response to his speech, he was fighting for our mother and I couldn't argue much with that.

I turned around and stared at the painting one more time, I knew the town Merrick was talking about, it had a funny name; Oakish.