Help! Five Beast Alphas Want To Breed Me!!(BL)

Rhydian;

I need air.

That’s the lie I told myself for leaving the hut. But the truth is, I was overwhelmed.

I was overwhelmed because Koda’s damn wisdom kept ringing in my skull like a fucking bell.

He has this way of talking like he’s eighty years old and was carved from ancient oak.

Meanwhile, I’m... just me.

A mess with claws, basically.

He’s so... put together and mature and... it’s no wonder Elián was happy to marry him. I’m a joke compared to my brother... and it stings.

I walk through Gravemaw with my hands in my pockets and my feet kicking pebbles like a child as I think about the way my older brother grabbed my chin and told me I am ”more than my scars.”

His fucking perfection

With his fucking perfect, fatherly aura.

He always says the right thing.

And it always lands exactly where I don’t want it to.

The night is cool, and all around me, in numerous huts, people are settling down for the night. The rebuilding has been put on hold for the day, and everywhere feels gentle... calm...

And I’ve gotten to a point in my life where calmness feels foreign to me. My mind and anxiety are always racing, and I hate that about myself.

I just get to the square when something fast suddenly starts approaching me. Feet slapping the ground, breath panting, and form stumbling as it tries to stop.

My instinct sharpens like a blade, and I’m instantly on high alert as I stare at the young man rushing over to me.

I snap out my claws, ready to attack on the first sign of danger, but the young boy, wearing a messenger’s crest on his chest, skids to a stop right in front of me.

He drops to one knee, chest heaving like he ran through kingdoms to get here. His crest catches moonlight— And my stomach drops.

It’s Howleroot’s crest. The wolf-tooth seal.

My home’s symbol...

”What?” I demand, with my tone clipped and confused, and the boy bows so deeply his forehead nearly hits the dirt.

”A-Alpha Rhydian— I’ve been sent to deliver a message... to you.” He says, and my jaw tenses as he holds out an envelope.

I snatch it from his hands before I can stop myself, and I stare at it.

The seal is red wax, pressed with a symbol I know too well.

Liandria’s mark.

My...mother.

Something cold and frightful crawls up my spine, but I turn away before the boy can see anything on my face.

Why is she writing to me!??

”Dismissed,” I mutter, and the boy bolts away like he’s grateful for permission to finally breathe.

I sigh and stare at the envelope in my hand.

”What do you want now, Mother?” I whisper with worry building in my chest.

I start walking again, and as I move, my mind paints all the things my mother could have probably written in this letter...

Demands that I come home? That she’s been spying on me and is disappointed I could give so much of myself to another kingdom without looking back home?

What could she possibly have to say? And why now? All of a sudden...

I keep walking until I find a corner behind the old grain shed in the square, away from lanterns and eyes.

Only when I’m behind it do I let myself stare at the letter again.

It takes me a long moment to break the seal, and an even longer one to pull out the letter.

My hands feel stupidly unsure, and my heart is now beating behind my teeth.

As much as I hate to admit it... Liandira is still my mother... and news of her affects me way more than I like or wish.

The paper opens with a soft crackle, and I hold my breath as my eyes take in her organised, curvy, styled writing.

My son,

The first words read, and I blink at them.

Her son? She rarely calls me that... when it’s not to condescend or assert control. She’d rather call me ”My boy, silly child” or just my name...

Calling me this feels like a threat dressed in silk.

However, I force myself to keep reading.

I have rewritten this opening more times than I will ever admit.

Every word feels either insufficient or dishonest, and for once in my life, I am trying not to lie.

The next paragraph begins, and my throat grows dry as I stare at the words. My eyes linger on the last words. For once in my life, I am trying not to lie...

At least she knows that all her life she’s been an abominous liar... that’s a start.

I do not know if you will finish reading this letter.

I do not know if you will burn it, tear it apart, or leave it unopened on some table where dust will eventually claim it.

I will accept any of those outcomes because I have long lost the right to expect gentleness from you.

I don’t realise tears have brimmed in my eyes until my vision blurs, and I sniffle to get anhold of myself before continuing.

I am writing because the chasm between us has become unbearable, and because I owe you the truth I have denied you for so long.

I am sorry.

I am sorry for my coldness.

For my cruelty.

For the way my voice became an alarm to you instead of a beacon to you.

I scoff as I lower the letter. The audacity of this woman. She’s just realising her faults? She woke up one morning and chose to write all this to me?? Why? What is she driving at?

What game is she playing?

I am sorry for pushing Bram toward you, knowing in my heart what kind of boy he was, and choosing convenience over your safety.

I am sorry for treating you like a piece on a board, something to be moved and sacrificed if it brought me closer to power.

I told myself I was preparing you for the world.

I told myself hardness was necessary.

I told myself love would weaken you.

Those were lies I told myself so I would not have to face the truth:

That I loved the idea of a perfect son more than I loved the one standing in front of me.

By now, the tremor in my lips tells me that I am seconds away from breaking down in horribl; le tears.

I see now how monstrous that was, and Rhydian, I am not writing to ask for your forgiveness.

I know I do not deserve it.

There are things I broke that cannot be mended.

There are wounds I inflicted that time that will never fully heal... and I know that...

You became strong in spite of me, not because of me.

And that truth will follow me for the rest of my life.

The words rip something inside me, and I feel hot tears run down my face as I read my mother’s writing in her voice, and yet somehow, it doesn’t sound so cold... and controlled. In my head... this voice sounds... unlike her.

I miss you.

I miss you in ways I do not have the language to explain.

Every morning, I pass the training grounds and find myself looking for you without thinking.

The silence there is louder than any clash of swords there, ever was.

I think of how often I raised my voice at you, and how rarely I raised my arms to hold you.

I think of how fear became the first language you learned from me, when it should have been safety.

I regret that more than I regret any political failure... and any lost alliance.

I would give anything to prove that this apology is real.

Anything.

My position... My power.

Even my life, if that were the price required to undo what I have done to you.

I stop to catch my breath, and more tears pour from my eyes as I crumple the letter in my hands.

I know words alone are cheap.

I know repentance does not erase blood or years of neglect.

I know this letter does not make me a good mother.

But it is the first honest thing I have ever given you.

You were the greatest gift I ever had.

And I am sorry that I could not be worthy of you.

I love you... Even though you may not believe it... I love you, Rhidan. And I’m sorry I failed you.

— Liandria.

The paper drops slowly as my arm goes slack.

I stare at the dirt, and suddenly, the sound that floods my head is my heartbeat.

It’s loud. Too loud.

Damn her.

Damn her for writing these things now.

After so many years of silence, commands, bruises that weren’t physical but felt worse.

After Bram, after everything.

Just when I finally stopped thinking about her, she writes this.

Something hot lands on the paper. A tear.

I curse quietly and wipe it away, angry at myself for slipping, for feeling anything at all, for letting her words burrow under my ribs.

I grit my teeth and shut my eyes, but more tears fall.

And once they start, I can’t stop them fast enough.

They slide down my face, hot and embarrassing, and I scrub at them like I can erase what triggered them.

Koda’s words echoin my mind, and my breath shudders.

”You can choose what you want to be.”

Maybe I can. Maybe I want to.

But then why do I feel like a child again?

The same child who was once sitting outside the council hall waiting for a mother who didn’t look at me unless she needed something...

I read the letter again—slowly this time.

And it hits differently.

Not like a weapon... Not like manipulation... Not like strategy.

Just... Truth.

Raw, ugly... Painful truth.

She’s trying, and that’s the part that breaks me.

Because I don’t know what to do with a mother who finally learned how to soften.

I press the letter to my chest and bow my head, letting the tears fall quietly, hidden by the dark.

No audience, no witnesses.

Just me and the extra heaviness I didn’t expect to receive tonight.

I hate how much I needed this.

I hate that a single apology can shake what I spent years building inside myself.

But I can’t deny that something shifts... small, fragile, but real.

Maybe Koda was right. Maybe people can decide who they will be.

Maybe that includes me, and maybe... terrifyingly... it includes her too.

I fold the letter carefully — too carefully — and slide it into my pocket, as if it’s something fragile.

I wipe my face one last time, straighten, as I inhale deeply... shakily.

Something in me feels... lighter... Or maybe heavier.

I don’t know.

I just know I’m going back to Koda.

Because suddenly I need to hear his voice again. I need my older brother, and it’s embarrassing to admit...

I turn and walk through the quiet night, the letter warm against my thigh.

Maybe this is the start of something new?

Not forgiveness...Not yet.

But something... Maybe the hope of the mother I always wished for.

Maybe... like Koda, I could finally have a... healthy relsationship witha mother who actually loves me... Like I’ve always wanted...

Just... maybe... It’s not too much to wish... is it?