Alliance of Shadows, Book 4: DRESON

Bullies and Boundaries

All five of the other boys paled as a low, guttural growl rumbled behind me, primal and edged with warning.

"Who do you think you are, picking on my kids like that?" Celestia’s voice sliced through the tension, sharp enough to send a fresh wave of fear through the group. It made me shiver—not out of dread, but anticipation.

One of the mothers rushed forward, her face tight with concern, seizing the boy who’d been bitten by the arm and dragging him backward.

"I told you to stay away from those boys, Camden," she scolded, her tone high and flustered, the reprimand more for appearance than sincerity.

Celestia growled again, deeper this time, more controlled but no less dangerous. "These boys have to apologize for bullying my kids, and I want it done now—or so help me, every one of their families will suffer the wrath of a pissed-off mama wolf. The Alliance teaches total acceptance, not this instilled hatred of people who are different."

She is so right, I thought, warmth spreading through my fingers as she took my hand in hers. The certainty in her grip grounded me, solidifying the unspoken promise that she would always stand up for us.

"Dreson, sweetie, what happened while we ran to the store?" Celestia asked, bending down beside me, her sharp gaze softening just enough to reassure me. Her presence was unwavering, solid, like an unmovable force in the chaos surrounding us.

"They broke Kaden's toy and threw our ball over the fence into the forest. Then they started trying to hit him, but he fought back and ran over to me," I told her, my voice steady despite the frustration simmering beneath my words. The sting of injustice clung to me, tightening my throat, but I refused to let it show. "After that, Leroy called him a Mutt and told him to go back to his pack."

It was useless to lie to a Werewolf. Their heightened senses gave you away every time—unless you were a seasoned liar, trained enough to mask every shift in heartbeat, every tremor in breath. Celestia would have known if I left anything out, if I exaggerated, if I tried to hold back my anger.

Celestia's expression darkened, her jaw tightening as she slowly turned toward the cluster of mothers now hovering nearby. The air around her shifted, heavy with unspoken fury, the weight of centuries of injustice pressing into the moment. Her stare was unyielding, cutting through them like a blade, a silent warning that she wouldn’t tolerate their excuses.

One of the mothers gasped as she took note of the bite mark on Camden's arm, recoiling slightly as if the injury itself carried some unseen weight. Her fingers hovered over the wound before she turned sharply toward Celestia, her face twisting into disgust. "Control your little beast, Celestia," she snapped, her tone laced with contempt, chin lifting in a weak attempt at authority.

"No," my stepmother said, her voice sharp, unwavering. Watching her cross her arms, I instinctively ran to my father, pulling Kaden behind me. His small fingers clutched at the back of my shirt, his grip tight despite the confidence he had shown earlier. Even in the aftermath, he still sought reassurance, his breathing shallow and uneven, proof that his earlier bravery had come at a cost.

Celestia didn’t flinch, didn’t soften her stance. "When your children apologize for bullying a four-year-old, then I will tell my boy to return the favour. Until then, I'm viewing that bite as a form of poetic justice. I see no reason to discipline my children if you can't do the same to yours." Her tone carried a quiet certainty, a finality that left no room for argument.

I glanced up at my father and saw the quiet pride in his face, the slight nod of approval in his expression. It was unspoken but understood—Celestia had done exactly what needed to be done. The warmth of his hand settled briefly on my shoulder, grounding me, reminding me that no matter what, I wasn’t standing alone.

"Honey, our boys need to be fed," he said, his voice calm but firm, an unspoken assurance that this conversation was far from over. "I will bring up the issue at the next Council meeting tomorrow night and at the Alliance meeting next week. You don't need to worry your pretty head over it, okay?"

Celestia turned on her heel without another word and picked me up effortlessly, the familiar warmth of her embrace settling me instantly.

"Come along, Dreson. You did a good job today, protecting your brother. I'm very proud of you, so that means you get a special dessert tonight."

Over her shoulder, I watched Dad pick up Kaden and settle him on his back with practiced ease. Kaden squealed happily, kicking his legs in excitement, his tiny hands gripping Dad’s shirt for balance. I couldn't help but smile at him, relief washing over me now that the tension of earlier had faded.

He grinned back at me, his big blue eyes shining with unfiltered joy. "They was being so mean, but big bwudder made them stop, Daddy. I got mad when they broked my toys. That’s why I beat them up right back, but I got scared and ran to Dre."

"Did he now?" Dad laughed, his voice rich with amusement, warmth threading through each word. "I'm glad he did. Brothers need to watch each other's backs, okay? So, when the time comes, you make sure to protect him too, right?"

Kaden giggled, nestling against Dad’s shoulder, completely comfortable now that the situation had been resolved. "Dreson's stronger than me, though."

"Just 'cause you're still little doesn't mean you're weak, Kaden," I said, making sure my tone held certainty, not condescension. His age didn’t make him powerless, and I wanted him to understand that. I caught the approving glance Dad sent my way, his subtle nod like a silent endorsement, and I felt a flicker of pride swell in my chest.

I felt Celestia hug me tighter, the warmth of her embrace grounding me in a way I hadn’t realized I needed. "You're such a good boy, Dreson. Even though you're not really mine, I've always seen you as my son. Don't let anyone talk down to you, okay? You are just as important as Kaden."

To my seven-year-old mind, it felt like she was trying to tell me something important, something deeper than just reassurance. But I couldn't quite grasp the weight of her words yet. She had never treated me any differently, had never once made me feel like I didn’t belong. I knew that she wasn’t my real mother, but she was the only mother I had, and I loved her.

"I know, Mommy," I said without hesitation, letting the familiar word settle between us, an unspoken promise of trust. "Kaden's only a baby, so I have to protect him."

Grinning, I watched my brother’s face twist in outrage, the earlier peace quickly unraveling into playful defiance.

"I am not a baby, Dreson! You're a baby!" he shot back, his voice rising in protest, brows furrowed in exaggerated frustration. His tiny hands balled into fists as if that would somehow make his words more convincing.

I laughed. "But you're my little brother, so that means you're the baby of the family."

Kaden crossed his arms, puffing out his chest as if that would somehow make him seem older. "I am not a baby!"

"Careful, boys, Mommy might just give you guys a new sibling at any time," Dad said slyly, amusement dancing in his eyes.

Celestia laughed, the sound warm and genuine, filling the air with ease. I loved the sound of it because it meant she was happy.

"No, I think two little boys is enough for one household," she said, shaking her head with a playful sigh as she opened the back door of the car and buckled me in. Her movements were smooth, practiced, like she had been doing this forever. Dad rounded to the other side, lifting Kaden effortlessly, the little ball of energy kicking his feet in protest as he was placed in his car seat.

"Daddy, I'm a big boy now, so why can't I sit like Dre?" Kaden pouted, his lower lip jutting out, brows pulling together in exaggerated frustration.

"Because Dreson knows how to stay put in his seat and not bounce around like a monkey on a sugar high," Dad replied, snapping the buckle into place with practiced ease. His tone was teasing, but firm enough that Kaden didn't argue.

Celestia shut the door, checking the straps one last time before sliding into the passenger seat. As we drove away, the world outside blurred into streaks of green and gray, trees flickering past like ghosts. The soft hum of the car’s engine mixed with the rhythmic sound of tires rolling over pavement, but my thoughts were elsewhere.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I knew there was going to be a permanent rift between the other Druid kids and me. Kaden and I were different from them, and they didn’t like different.

There was something nagging at me, a feeling of unfiltered dread settling over my mind that I’d never felt before. Then, as if clarity had come to shed light on it, I realized that the day of the Child Trade was coming soon. A day I wanted no part in if it took me from my little brother only to leave him at the mercy of the bullies we only just put in their places.