Alliance of Shadows, Book 4: DRESON

A Father's Heart

A presence made the hairs on my arms rise. I turned instinctively, eyes landing on Mom. She stood with her letter clutched in her hands, silent tears spilling down her cheeks.

"Dreson," she whispered, her voice uneven. "Is this really how you felt when you wrote this to me? Did you truly think I would start treating you differently? That I would hate you?"

I swallowed hard, unsure of what to say. After a pause, I spoke, my voice quieter than I expected. "I've known since I was eight, but I wanted to come clean before I left. I know the Alliance teaches acceptance, but I was still afraid, Mom. Afraid you might—” My throat tightened. “I’m sorry. I never meant to make you cry."

Her fingers tightened around the letter, knuckles pale. "The only thing that makes me cry is knowing you truly believed I could disown you." She inhaled sharply, shaking her head as if trying to rid herself of the thought. "I don’t care what your father says about this, Dre. You're not going anywhere because I would kick him out before I let him hurt you."

She wrapped her arms around me, holding me like she was afraid I'd slip away if she let go. A muffled sob escaped her as she pressed my face against her shoulder, her hold on me so tight I could feel every fiber of the maternal love she consistently showed me over the last eleven years. Not perfect, not faultless, but consistent since the day she walked into my life and never left.

Grabbing my face in her warm hands, she stared into my eyes. "Dreson, no matter what happens, this is your home. I want to see you walk back through those doors when your testing is over, okay? You belong here—with your family. If your father can't see that the same way your brother and I do, then he's part of the problem. Be strong, baby. You got this."

As she walked away, something shifted inside me. A strength I hadn't known I possessed stirred in my chest, like someone had flipped a switch in my mind—making me see clearly for the first time in... well, ever.

I had never felt this strong before. Not even when I sparred against Colton.

Knocking, I walked into Dad's office with my head held high and placed the envelope on the desk in front of him. He looked up over the top of his glasses and sighed.

"A farewell letter?" His voice carried exhaustion. "Dreson, you can use your words, you know."

I shook my head. "Just, please, read the letter and come find me when you're done. I'll be in my room waiting. It’s the last thing I need to do before I leave."

His expression tightened in frustration, a look I knew all too well. "Dreson, just tell me."

"I... I can't, Dad." My voice broke. Lowering my eyes to the floor, I choked back a sob. My hand closed over the cold metal knob, a chill creeping up my spine as I braced myself for his reaction.

"You can't?" He echoed flatly. "Dreson, there's no such thing as can't. Now, tell me what's wrong. What's got you so damn worked up that you're willing to push my buttons just before you leave? Do you think I have the patience for mind games right now? You're leaving me for Gods know how long, so excuse me if I’m not in the mood to be tolerant."

His words hit harder than I expected.

Biting back a sob, I let go of the handle and turned to face him. For this once, I was going to pull myself together as much as I could and say it. I snapped. "You want me to tell you what's in that letter? Fine. Just don't hate me, alright?”

His jaw muscles twitched. "Get to the point, Dre. I'm not in the mood."

My own temper flared, and I knew that I had to tell him myself, not through some letter.

"You know what, maybe leaving is a good thing. Maybe it will give us both time to think. I don't know how things are going to end, I'm not a Clairvoyant, but I'm begging for your patience and understanding. Nothing has ever happened as I planned, and I'm not even sure if it matters anymore. I didn't want to tell you like this, not when we're both so hot-headed sometimes, but you won't let me do this my way, and it's pissing me off!"

Breathing hard, I glared at him.

My father lowered his eyes to the letter in his hands, and I knew he was rethinking what he wanted me to do. "Dreson, I—"

"No, Dad. I'm done," I said, my voice sharp. "You wanted me to tell you, and now I'm ticked off enough to actually say it for once. I've been terrified of this moment, dreading it, actually. I wanted to hate myself, but that's not going to change anything for me. I can't change who I am; I can't be what you want me to be. It's not your fault, and it never will be."

Nodding, he let me vent.

"Mom and Kaden know, and they don't love me any less. I'm praying that you don’t change how you feel about me, that you won’t turn around and downright hate me after this."

The tears came fast, blinding me in a watery haze.

My father watched me warily, uncertain, like he wasn’t sure what to expect from his usually complacent son.

I was about to show him exactly how different I was.

"If you wanted me to be something flawless, I'm sorry, but I'm not. My differences stand out, and they’re not the kind that everyone accepts, Dad. I’m going to lose people over this confession, and I don’t want one of them to be you. My family means the absolute world to me, so if I lose any of you, it’s going to kill me inside."

I took a few deep, calming breaths. "You wanted to know what was eating me up inside? I'm gay, Dad. If you can't accept that, then when my tests are over, I won't come home."

His face paled. His eyes widened, and I could see the tears gathering after I told him I would leave for good.

"Dreson, don't talk like that," he pleaded, getting to his feet. "You're gay? Are you sure?"

Scoffing, I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms as frustration boiled inside me. "No, I've only just spent the last six years pining over my best friend when I know he's straighter than a fence post."

The slap came so fast I barely registered it. My cheek burned where his hand had connected, the sound echoing through the room. I staggered backward, my heart pounding.

Before I could react further, he grabbed me by the front of my shirt with both hands and yanked me closer. My toes barely scraped the carpeted floor as I struggled in his grasp. Fear gripped me in an iron hold, and I started to cry harder. Different scenarios played out in my head—none of them ended well.

"I have never hit you before, and I never wanted to, Dreson," he snapped. "But, so help me, I will turn you over my knee right now if you don't get your s**t together."

Wrapping me in his embrace, he let me cry out my frustration, my pain, and my anger. He held me close, his warmth grounding me, waiting patiently for my breathing to steady. He whispered to me the entire time, his words soft but urgent, like he needed me to understand something beyond the moment.

"Explain to me why you thought you had to hide this from me," he finally asked, his tone calmer now.

As I told him the truth, the weight pressing on my chest eased, like I had been carrying it for years without realizing just how much it had weighed me down.

"You're fourteen, but that doesn't give you the right to yell at your father like that. There was absolutely no reason for you to be so downright crass, either, was there?" he asked.

My throat tightened as I swallowed back a fresh wave of emotion. "I was frustrated and angry, Dad. I thought you would disown me."

He shook his head, his fingers threading through my hair like he was trying to reassure himself as much as me. "Dreson, you're what keeps me reminded that we have limited time on this earth. Your mother didn't die because of you, either. She knew you were worth risking her life for, Dreson."

A tear slipped down my cheek, cooling against my skin. "So, you don't hate me?" I asked, peeking at him through my lashes.

He scrubbed a hand over his face, groaning. "Where the hell did I go wrong? For a brilliant child, you're socially inept, and that scares me the most. The only thing that bothers me about you is that you're far too trusting and accepting of others. They're good attributes, but you have to be more careful of who you decide to trust and what you tell them."

"Do you think I have a Mate, Dad? Kaden asked me that once, but I didn't have an answer," I said, watching him closely.

Feeling much calmer and more level-headed, I let myself breathe deeply. The exhaustion from everything settled in, heavy in my limbs and behind my eyes.

"I believe there's someone out there for everyone. We just have to find them," he said softly.

My eyelids grew heavier with each passing second. I barely noticed when my father picked me up, his grip firm yet careful. His voice, barely above a whisper, reached me as I drifted toward sleep. "I love you, Dreson."

The last thing I felt was the shift of hands as my body changed hold, darkness pulling me under.