Bris had not asked for this responsibility. Conor had not either back when Mew died and her children remained. Alexey had been the one making the choices, and the current Alpha male did his best to follow her brilliant example even if she was no longer here to guide him. He had not asked for any of this that he had been given, but he knew it would be wrong to not consider his current life to be blessed. He was in a position where he could make a difference. He could form these lands as they had formed him. He was too young for this position and the responsibility, but as he continued to grow more comfortable with this life, he understood that he would not have it any other way. The beginning of his leadership had been nothing short of horrible, but they supported him. It would be no difficult task to force him down if enough members willed him off the throne, but no. They seemed to appreciate and acknowledge what he did. It was strange to be treated with such respect.
His thoughts were quick to take flight and lure him away, but Bris’ gentle tones brought him back. He did not know Bris’ brother very well, and facts were that it was not him he wanted to talk about. No, Conor wanted to talk about Bris, wanted to explore the gentle soul hiding behind those beautiful and unique eyes. He had impressed him many times already. He regretted that he had not taken time to know her better in the past when they were younger and still considered children. He believed that she could have been that friend he had so sorely needed, even back then. He could relate to her story. They had grown up in different worlds, but while the details differed, they had both had a cruel childhood. Cinnamon hued ears turned to rest against his golden skull as she spoke. He thought about the words she spoke. He did not know enough about the Stormbringer clan to fully understand what had made her so different and alien to the rest of her kin.
He did not ask, but she spoke again, words quiet and soft on her pale lips. His gaze shifted to linger on fresh snow as she gave him a fragment of her own story. She had a new home and family now, but he could see that her childhood still remained with her. She was still sad, but it was not her fault. He never understood why a child had to be punished for its parents’ sins. It was not right. He realized that he already adored her. There was nothing he could say to change things, but he could try. She deserved to know that she was appreciated here. This was where she belonged now and that this would never change. ”I’m glad,” he replied, risking hurting her for a moment because this was something he wanted to say. ”If your life had been different, you wouldn’t have come here to us.” He did not know how to form the words, but he had to try. ”Dahlia wouldn’t have been the same without you.” His words were honest; she mattered.
”I wouldn’t have been the same without you,” He felt a piece of his old self crawl back into his core. For a moment he felt shy, but he forced his gaze to remain on her pale face. They could not change their pasts. They could learn from mistakes made by others and move on with more wisdom than those before them. He could not comprehend the thought of kind, gentle Bris Stormbringer being an outcast. While some no doubt would see her blood as polluted because of the Dawnrunner blood, the soul within was undeniably pure. A hand rose to touch the woman’s back. It was meant to be a reassuring gesture, but he didn’t know. He recognized the emotion swirling within, but he would not take advantage of her in any way. He couldn’t ruin what they had just now. He only wanted her to know that he supported and believed in her.