Alpha Dylan

Chapter 37 | The Truth

I knocked on the door to Dylan's cabin, subconsciously holding my breath, feeling the anxiety racing through my veins before he opened the door, standing before me shirtless, his body still wet from his shower.

I gazed up at his dripping tousled hair, pushing the arousal aside, knowing Dylan and I needed to have a conversation about everything, and it wasn't the time for sex, no matter how good my mate looked.

"I don't want you to feel like you're in the dark, Clara," said Dylan as he stepped aside, allowing me to squeeze past him, settling on his couch.

"I know you don't like to open up Dylan, but I want you to feel like you can talk to me, and if you're not ready to tell me everything, just at least please reassure me that I'm safe around Dean," I replied, sighing heavily as my mate walked over to me, leaning up against the chest of drawers placed in front of the couch.

Dylan sighed, running his hands through his hair nervously, nodding. "You remember what I told you about my Father, and how he had schizophrenia?"

I nodded, chewing on my bottom lip.

"Well, before that, when Dean and I were kids, his parents died, so mine decided to take him in, raising him, since his older siblings had decided to leave the pack already. Dean and I were really close, but when we grew up, we all decided it was best for the pack that my Father stepped down and I took over."

"I remember that part, and your Father didn't want to."

Dylan nodded, avoiding eye contact, focusing intently on the wall behind me. "He told us that he would rather die than step down, but we made him anyway, because we knew if we didn't, one day, everyone could be killed because of his impulsive behaviour. Dean was the last person to speak to him before he..."

I watched my mate as he swallowed harshly, his jaw tensing up and closed his eyes, tilting his head back, growling.

"You don't have to say it, Dylan," I said, making my way over to him and running my hands down the front of his chest, feeling his muscles untense at my touch.

"After we had found him hanging the next day, Dean had told us about a conversation they had had that night when out for a walk. Apparently, my Father had expressed how he couldn't go on anymore, and knew that he was a burden to the pack, but didn't want to give up his Alpha position, despite the dangerous episodes he would go through."

"He had basically told Dean how he planned to do it, and Dean didn't tell us a thing. We could have stopped him if we knew, but Dean decided to keep it to himself, so I blamed him for the death of my Father."

"Is that why he left?" I asked, swallowing harshly.

Dylan nodded, moving away from me and moving over to the couch, sitting down on it, resting his hands on his knees, his ocean blue eyes fixated on the ground.

"He knew he had made a mistake, and after I refused to forgive him, he left. He returns every now and then, possibly to try and fix things and see if I'll act differently towards him, I'm not sure, but he turned cold after everything, and seeing him is a constant reminder of what happened."

"Part of me knows it's not his fault, but I can't help but direct my anger towards him. I needed someone to blame."

"Thank you for telling me," I whispered, crouching down in front of my mate, stroking his cheek softly, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"Do you think any less of me?" asked Dylan, gazing up at me with dead eyes, his mouth set in a firm line.

I offered him a small smile, shaking my head. "You lost someone very important to you, and you're still dealing with it now. I know seeing Dean must be very hard for you, but I'm sure if he really thought your Father was going to do anything, he would have told you. I'm sure he regrets it everyday."