Alpha's Rejected becomes the Lycan's Obsession
Chapter 125: A flight to catch

Chapter 125: A flight to catch

No matter how hard he tried, Williams couldn’t get comfortable enough to have a good night’s sleep. The mattress beneath him felt foreign, the sheets too crisp, the pillows lacking the familiar weight and scent of home. His body tossed and turned in the quiet shadows of the guest room, but rest continued to elude him. He lay there, staring up at the ceiling as if answers would be carved into its smooth surface. But none came. Only silence and the occasional creak of the house answered him.

By the time the first pale light of dawn began seeping through the narrow windowpanes, his eyes were already wide open, bloodshot and tired, but stubbornly alert. There was no use pretending anymore. He sat up slowly, the sheets rustling against his legs as he shifted forward, settling on the edge of the bed. With a heavy breath, he dropped his elbows on his thighs and buried his face in his hands, fingers pressing against his temples like he could squeeze a plan from the pressure.

He was caught in a spiral of thought, one that circled endlessly around a singular challenge: Dera. How was he supposed to confront her? How could he convince her to return to Luminera with him when her eyes held such silent defiance, such quiet rage? He hadn’t the faintest idea. It was unfamiliar territory, uncharted, volatile, and delicate all at once.

Dragging in a breath, he reached for his phone that had been resting quietly on the nightstand. He tapped the screen and searched through his contacts until he found the one person he needed to speak to. Roman. With a hesitant thumb, he tapped the call button and raised the device to his ear. It rang. And rang. And rang.

Then it stopped. No answer.

His jaw tensed. He tried again, watching the screen closely this time as the seconds counted up. It ended the same way. No one picked up.

With a low sigh, he let the phone fall back to the mattress beside him. Roman was unreachable and he couldn’t blame the guy after everything that had happened already.

But Dera’s issue was already giving him a headache, but that wasn’t all. It was driving him crazy as well. He sat still for several more minutes, eyes fixed on the floor, his thoughts tangled and directionless.

Then, faintly, he began to hear voices. Muffled at first, like echoes in the distance, then gradually clearer, voices from what he believed to be the living room.

That was enough to get him moving.

He pushed to his feet and stretched slightly, the ache of a sleepless night pulling at his limbs. With sluggish steps, he moved to the adjoining bathroom. The cool water against his face was a small relief, grounding him just enough to pull himself together.

He ran a damp hand over his jaw, fixing his expression in the mirror. When he finally stepped out of the room, he felt marginally more composed, though the exhaustion still clung to him like a second skin.

As soon as he stepped into the living room, he paused in the doorway.

Dr. Abel was standing by the front door, dressed in casual clothes and holding a fishing kit in one hand. He looked completely refreshed, like he had slept soundly and without a care in the world, which surprised Williams. Somehow, he had expected the man to look as stressed after all that happened last night, but that wasn’t the case.

"Good morning, Dr. Abel," Williams greeted, his voice calm as he walked further into the room until he was standing beside the older man.

"Morning, Williams," Dr. Abel responded, his tone lighter than it had been the night before, his face relaxed and slightly warm in the morning light.

Williams studied him for a beat, the corner of his lips twitching slightly in an ironic smile.

"Early bird, I see," the older man commented, raising a brow as he glanced at him.

"Nah, I’m more of a night owl," Williams replied with a faint smirk, shaking his head slightly. "But in moments of tension, I skip sleep altogether."

Dr. Abel nodded thoughtfully, the gesture slow and understanding. "I see. We were about to step out," the man announced then, raising the fishing kit slightly to emphasize his point.

Before Williams could form a response, a voice floated into the room from the hallway, soft but firm.

"Come wear your shoes, Dexter."

It was Dera’s voice, undeniably hers. Williams turned his head instinctively just as the boy from last night wandered into the living room, his tiny fingers gripping a bright blue toy airplane. Dexter’s steps halted the moment he caught sight of Williams. His round, gray eyes settled on the man with curiosity, recognition flickering behind his innocent gaze.

"What time of the day is it, Dexter?" Dr. Abel asked, pulling the boy’s attention.

Dexter’s gaze slid from Williams to his grandfather.

"It is Morning, Grandpa," the boy answered confidently, his small voice unwavering.

"And what do we say to people we see for the first time in the morning?" Dr. Abel asked again, gently guiding him toward good manners.

"We say good morning," Dexter replied, understanding blooming in his bright eyes.

"Very good. Now say good morning to Mr. Williams," Dr. Abel instructed, his head tipping in Williams’ direction.

Dexter turned back toward him and spoke clearly, "Good morning, Mr. Williams."

The smile that stretched across Williams’ face was instant and unrestrained, as warm and blinding as the morning sun itself. The more he looked at the child, the more certain he became. He felt it in his chest, in his bones, in the marrow of his soul. This boy... this boy was his. There was not an iota of doubt in his heart.

"Morning, Dexter. Did you sleep fine?" Williams asked, taking a step closer and lowering himself so he was at eye level with the child. He reached out without hesitation and gently ruffled the boy’s hair.

"Mmmhmm," Dexter nodded. "Mommy read me a story and she slept in my room."he announced even without being asked.

"Is that so?" Williams asked, surprised by the unexpected announcement.

"Yes. Mommy said you teach her how to fight," Dexter added, his sweet smile returning with the mention of his mother.

"That’s right," Williams acknowledged with a nod.

"Will you teach me too?" the boy asked, eyes wide and bright with hope.

"Of course. When you’re old enough," Williams promised, delighting in the boy’s eagerness.

"Grandpa said I’m growing fast and I’ll be a great fisherman someday," Dexter declared proudly, his tiny chest puffing out just a bit.

"Is that so?" Williams asked, humoring him.

"Ask Grandpa," Dexter said, turning his eyes to Dr. Abel for confirmation.

Williams did the same, and the older man smiled, his expression softening.

"It’s true. He loves the water, this one," Dr. Abel confirmed.

A wide smile settled on Dexter’s face at the praise.

"That’s probably because he was conceived in the water," Williams said, his voice dipping slightly, eyes drifting from Dexter to the figure that had just entered the sitting room.

Dera.

She stood there, a jacket and two little shoes in her hands, undoubtedly meant for Dexter. Williams’ breath hitched. His heart fluttered wildly inside his chest, betraying the calm he tried to hold. Her braids were pulled back into a neat ponytail. She wore nothing more than loose pants and a shirt, but to him, she looked stunning and radiant.

But her expression remained unchanged from the night before. She still had that on welcoming look on her face.

"Come here, Dexter," she said, her voice gentle but firm.

The boy ran toward her immediately.

She crouched down on one knee and slipped the jacket onto his small frame, then began fastening the shoes on his feet with steady hands.

"Mommy, will Mr. Williams be staying with us from now on?" Dexter asked suddenly, his voice carrying innocent curiosity.

Dera’s brows furrowed, and she frowned.

"No, my love," she said, not missing a beat. "Mr. Williams has a house of his own, so there will be no need for him to stay with us."

Dexter’s face fell, the corners of his mouth dipping in disappointment.

Once she was done dressing him, Dexter turned back to Williams.

"Mr. Williams, will you come to the river with us?" he asked hopefully.

But before Williams could get a word in, Dera’s voice cut through the air with a firm finality.

"No, he won’t. Mr. Williams has got some packing to do and a flight to catch."

Dr. Abel let out a small sigh, as if he too felt the weight of her resistance.

"Come on, Dexter, let’s go," he said, extending his hand.

The boy reached for it without hesitation.

As they stepped toward the door, Dr. Abel paused, turning back to Williams.

"I’ll let you two talk," he said simply, then stepped outside with Dexter, leaving Williams and Dera alone in the stillness of the room.