Alliance of Shadows, Book 4: DRESON

Unspoken Promises

When we came back home, I felt a little lost without my new friend with me. The last few days of our visit had been filled with laughter, shared secrets, and quiet moments that made it hard to adjust to the sudden absence.

Neil had given Kaden some comics to read, sneaking snacks from the kitchen whenever he thought no one was looking. Sometimes, he’d whisper conspiratorially about which cupboards held the best treats, dragging Kaden into his mischief with a grin.

We played board games and cards late into the night, our arguments starting off as playful jabs but quickly escalating into dramatic reactions. Kaden always tried to keep the peace, but Neil’s temper would flare the second he lost, flipping the board over or tossing the cards at either me or Kaden in frustration.

We would crack up, letting him rant until his indignation gave way to laughter, his initial fury fading as he realized how ridiculous he was being. It became a routine—a cycle of competitive energy, playful outrage, and inevitable amusement.

A few times, his grandfather sat with us, his weathered hands resting on his knees as he observed. He never interrupted, never scolded, just watched with a quiet intensity that made his presence felt without words. His sharp eyes would flick to me, lingering as if assessing something deeper than just my actions. Eventually, though, he’d nod in approval, satisfied that I had kept my word and helped Neil behave better.

For me, though, it wasn’t about discipline—it was just nice having a friend to play with who wasn’t my brother. There was something freeing about it, something different. And maybe, more than anything, it was good to know that the old man wasn’t hitting Neil anymore.

That first day meeting him had been hard to swallow. The sharp discipline, the rigid expectations, the unspoken rules that hung over Neil’s head like a weight—it had been so unlike anything I had ever experienced.

My father had never raised a hand in our household and seeing it here had made something tighten in my chest, something I wasn’t sure I could fully explain. Mom seemed to know not to speak much around the Grand Alpha, and the short amount of time I’d spent in his presence told me why. He wasn’t as nice as he pretended to be when me and Kaden were around.

The first time I caught a glimpse of who he really was, it was over something so small that, at first, I thought maybe I was imagining things.

It happened late one afternoon, when Neil, Kaden, and I were sitting on the floor, sorting through a pile of comics. The massive library room was warm with the scent of old books and dust. Neil was mid-argument with Kaden over which series had the best villains when the door creaked open.

The moment Kristopher stepped inside, the energy in the room changed. Neil stiffened first, his shoulders locking up in that way I was starting to recognize. His body had already braced for something before it even happened.

"I trust ye boys haven’t gone and made a mess in here," Kristopher said, his voice smooth, measured, but calculated.

"No, sir," Neil muttered, barely glancing up.

I hadn’t realized just how tense he was until Kaden, oblivious to the way the room had shifted, picked up a comic and flipped it open, the thin pages rustling as he turned them too fast.

A harmless, normal thing for a child flipping through a book, but the way Alpha Kristopher’s eyes flicked toward him in a single, razor-sharp movement made my breath hitch. His expression remained even, but something in it darkened, as if the noise alone had irritated him enough to momentarily break past the polite mask he usually wore.

Neil noticed. His hand shot out, grabbing Kaden’s wrist, stilling his movements. Kaden frowned at him, confused, but didn’t protest.

The moment stretched longer than it should have, until finally, Kristopher exhaled sharply through his nose and turned away.

"Ye’ll be tidyin’ up before dinner," was all he said before leaving.

The door shut behind him with a quiet click, and Neil let go of Kaden’s wrist, rubbing his fingers against his palm like they were cold. Neil glanced at me, the shadow of fear flashing in his eyes along with a silent plea not to say anything to anyone.

I nodded but swore to myself then and there that I’d cover for him if it came down to sacrificing myself or putting him, and our budding friendship, at risk. Without pushing it out of my mind, I found ways to put myself between Neil and his grandfather as often as possible in the last few days of our stay.

When Celestia and Dad came to get us, Kaden cried to stay, insisting we keep playing with our friend. His pleas carried an urgency that made our parents pause, their expressions shifting as they took in the changes that had unfolded over the short visit. In quiet surprise, they agreed to bring us by more often.

Both the Grand Alpha and Alpha Henry remarked that we were a joy to have and expressed interest in seeing us again, their words carrying the polished politeness of authority figures accustomed to giving pleasant farewells.

On the drive home, Dad and Celestia brought up the incident when Kaden had gotten hurt.

"I was going to come and get him, but Alpha Henry assured me it was handled and told me not to bother," Celestia said, a trace of uncertainty laced in her tone.

Dad nodded. "Same here. He told me that Dreson and Neil begged him not to send the boys home early, saying they’d keep playing with Kaden."

"They did, Daddy," Kaden cried out. "Dre didn't leave me, and Neil was really nice to me. They even taught me how to fight back."

Way to throw your big brother under the bus, I thought as we pulled into the driveway, the weight of the day still settling in my chest.

Celestia didn’t hesitate. "Your mother should have swallowed," she snapped back, her tone sharp and unwavering.

The woman looked shocked, her expression twisting in disbelief. "Just because you're married to the High-Councillor doesn't make you better than everyone else, Celestia."

"Don't patronize my children if you can't handle the retaliation," my stepmother replied coolly.

I grinned over at her. "You're so smart, Mommy."

"I have to be, Dre," she laughed, shaking her head. "I have a clever man and two bright children to contend with in this household."

She set Kaden to his feet with practiced ease before taking my hand, leading me into the living room. "Come talk with me, honey."

To a seven-year-old, hearing those words made me feel like I'd done something wrong. "I'm sorry, Mommy. I won't leave him alone anymore, I promise."

Covering her mouth, she shook her head. "It's not that, baby. Bad things like that are going to happen. It’s bound to, especially with a child of mixed heritage. I actually wanted to talk to you for a different reason."

She hesitated for a beat, then asked, "Do you really like having to take care of your brother all the time? I know it’s hard listening to all the bad things people say, but..."

I frowned. After four years of being my mother, she was questioning it now?

I bit my lip and hugged her tight. "It's okay, Mommy. He's my little brother, so I don't mind. Besides, me and Daddy are happy you and Kaden are here."

"Oh, sweetheart," she sobbed, pulling me closer. "It's just that, well, I was wondering if you ever thought I was taking your mother's place. I don't want you to forget her or anything because she's still your mother, even if she is an angel now."

Ah, so that's what was wrong.

"Don't cry, Mommy," I said softly. Slipping off her knee, I walked over to the bookshelf and pulled down a photo album, its worn edges familiar beneath my fingers.

Carrying it over to her, I laid the book between us and pointed to the first picture of my mother and father. "See, I know what my real mom looks like. All I gotta do is look at her picture, and I can see her all the time. She can't be here, but you are, and that's okay 'cause you take care of me, and you don't hurt me."

She held my face in her hands and said, "You're not a Cursed Child, Dre. You're a blessing, understand? You and your father and your brother are my blessings, and I hope you never forget that, okay?"

"I won't forget, Mommy," I replied, my voice steady despite the warmth spreading through my chest.

Brushing the tears from her face with my little hands, I hopped off the couch, the weight of her words settling somewhere deep inside me. "I'm going to get ready for my bath."

"Okay, baby. Can you get your brother, too?" she asked gently as she moved to put the album back in its place.

Suddenly, as I watched from the shadows, she stopped. Her movements slowed, deliberate, as she opened it one last time, running her dark hand over the page holding the portrait of my mother in her Royal gown. Her fingertips traced the edges, pausing briefly as if she could still feel the presence of the woman in the image. "He’s so strong, Tina. The pup you left for me is more precious than you know. Rest easy. I will keep him safe."

I had stopped in the hall, listening to her speak to the picture—not to the memory, but to my birth mother herself. She spoke as if Tina could hear, as if the words could reach her somewhere beyond the veil separating the living from the dead. It was another promise, another quiet devotion to the woman who had given me life but left my future in Celestia’s hands.