Help! Five Beast Alphas Want To Breed Me!!(BL)-Chapter 316: Carefully

Koda;

His axe comes down with a crack so sharp it echoes through the clearing.

Wood splits, bark flies, but my brother doesn’t pause.

He places another log and steadies himself.

Again, and again. He just keeps going, and as I watch him, I know this isn’t just work.

Each strike is fueled by something hotter than anger. I can feel it from where I stand.

My arms are crossed as I watch him. Every... motion, every twitch, every crack.

His mother’s appearance, just as he began to settle here, must have been a horrible blow.

Just when he was starting to rid himself of all the anger... she resurfaced.

I hate seeing him like this. It’s disheartening that I don’t know how to help him.

At times, I realise how much the roles of a father and an older brother blur into each other, but I can not step back because if our father won’t be here for us, I’ll need to step in for my brothers. All of them.

Rhydian’s shoulders rise and fall like a storm struggling to break free from the body of a man.

His grip is rigid, his jaw is clenched, and his anger is poisonous.

I walk closer to him, and just as I’m about to get close, he speaks.

"I hate her," he snaps, and I pause. His axe slams down again, and I take a deep breath, looking at the blisters that are already forming on his hands.

"I fucking hate her." He adds, but I don’t interrupt. It’s counterintuitive to interrupt someone who just started opening up.

Rhydian, in this state, is not a man who wants advice. He is a storm looking for something solid enough to break.

Something to vent upon.

So many times I have offered to take the blows of his rage, but there are times I need to pull him back to the right path; if not, I will encourage him to become a man who is guided solely by anger.

No great man lets his anger lead.

That’s the way fools die.

"She has the nerve," he continues— breaking into my thoughts with his harsh breathing,

"She has the fucking nerve to show up here. To look at me like I owe her something. Like, I didn’t just start rising above the ocean she drowned me in!" He rages with another strike of his axe.

"The Goddess really has a fucking sense of humour," He scoffs, and I go rigid.

I know he’s talking about Howleroot’s moon goddess, but still... I grew up being taught against the blasphemy of our goddess.

Any kind of blasphemy feels wrong.

"She gave me the worst mother imaginable just to see if I’d snap. And I’m so damn near losing my fucking mind!!" Rhydian screams as he strikes his axe against another log, and I press my lips together as I watch him.

The woodpile is a mess now. Uneven chunks and splintered edges.

This isn’t work anymore. It’s punishment.

"I swear," he growls,

"If I could choose another mother—any other—I would. I’d take a stranger... I’d take nothing. Anything but her." He breathes as he stops with tears in his voice now, and these words land differently.

I uncross my arms and step closer, careful not to crowd him.

The axe he’d raised again pauses mid-air, as I place a hand on his shoulder.

He’s trembling with rage, and I’ve long learned that his rage is the mask his hurt usually wears.

"Rhydian," I say calmly, as I stare at the young man who still has a broken child hurting inside him.

"No child truly hates their mother. Not really." I whisper, and he lowers the axe.

Slowly, he turns to me, and the look he gives me isn’t just anger. It’s disbelief. Hurt. A sharp, wounded thing that slices deeper than shouting ever could.

Then he scoffs before tearing my hand away from his shoulder.

"Easy for you to say," he says quietly, and I raise a brow.

"You’ve never been in a position to hate your mother." He adds as his fingers tighten around the axe’s handle, and my jaw drops.

"Don’t stand there and tell me how I’m supposed to feel about my mother when you have no idea what it’s like to grow up with a parent who destroys you and calls it love." He growls with his wolf under his voice now, and I just blink.

"You don’t know what it feels like to have a horrendous mother." He adds in a spine-chilling whisper with his eyes burning with rage.

The words hit their mark, causing me to pause.

I open my mouth in shock, but before I can try to say anything, hurried footsteps break the silence.

"A–Alpha Koda?" A timid voice calls.

I turn around and find a young girl standing at the edge of the clearing, breathless, with a hand on her chest as she tries to steady her breathing.

"She’s back," The girl says, and my brows crease.

"Alana. She just arrived." She adds, and realisation dawns. I nod. And take a deep breath.

"Thank you," I reply, and the girl bows, before turning back around and walking off— slowly to regain her heart’s strength.

My mind pulls up the letter from memory, unfolding it word by word.

The letter Elián wrote me just days ago.

In the letter, he explained to me how Alana has to help Gravemaw and me.

I remember his writing and words vividly.

He said he has all the help he needs in Nagari, and Gravemaw and I need Alana more.

There was no room for argument in the letter. No suggestion that this was temporary or negotiable.

The words in that letter had sounded... resolved.

I remember frowning at the paper that night, turning it over as if answers might be written on the back.

In my heart, I was so sure that he’d be happy to have Alana with him. I know how they interact with each other. They are like siblings.

It was the only gift I could give him since I haven’t been with him for so long, and that too, right after our marriage.

Yet... he sent her back to me.

It just makes me think something has changed.

...Or something went wrong.

The thought that has plagued me since that letter arrived resurfaced.

Is he upset with me for being away for so long? Is sending Alana back his way of saying that?

I need to speak with her to understand what happened.

I don’t think it can wait. I know she just got back, but...

"Where is she?" I call after the girl who came to deliver the message. She’s already walked a little distance ahead, but she hears me and turns around anyway.

"Near the main hall, Alpha!" She calls back quickly, and I nod once.

"Thank you," I shout to her, and she bows deeply again before turning around and continuing to walk away.

I don’t wait to finish my conversation with Rhydian... Neither do I give him the impression that the conversation is not over.

I don’t trust myself to say the right thing in response to what he said.

So, I have decided to walk away— that’s what you do when you don’t trust yourself to stay.

As I leave the clearing, the weight of his words presses against my spine.

You’ve never been in a position to hate your mother.

He’s not wrong.

And maybe that’s why I’m speechless.

What exactly gives me the right to advise someone whose pain I don’t even understand??

There’s a limit to how much help I can provide when my knowledge of the problem is limited.

I’ve been blessed with an angel for a mother. Trying to act like I understand what Rhydian is going through is hypocrisy.

I should apologise to him for being a hypocrite.

I was wrong for that.

The path back to the hall feels longer than usual.

There are so many thoughts battling in my mind, and all of them stir unease deep in my gut.

My thoughts wander back to Elian and why he could possibly send Alana back.

Zethar and Zephan have written to me several times to keep me updated on Elian’s health and well-being. They never mentioned anything wrong.

Did he and Alana argue?

Even if they did, Alana wouldn’t just leave him...

She is too loyal. Too devoted. Even if he tells her to leave, she wouldn’t.

So why is she here?

The only conclusion that makes sense tightens my chest.

Something forced her to obey him. But what??

The only way I’ll understand what’s really happening is through her.

The hall comes into view, voices echoing softly from within.

I straighten instinctively, forcing my expression into something neutral.

I shouldn’t look worried. My people draw strength from me. If I give them the slightest hint of worry, they’ll panic without truly knowing the cause of my worry.

I need to keep my cool and get to the bottom of this... carefully.