Chapter 330: Chapter 330: The Truth About Aldric

POV: Silas

Silas found Vessa in the estate library, surrounded by ancient texts that looked like they’d crumble to dust if handled incorrectly. She looked up as he entered, her expression shifting from scholarly concentration to something more guarded.

"Silas," she said, marking her place in the book she’d been reading. "I was wondering when you’d come."

He closed the door behind him with deliberate care. "You’ve been avoiding me."

"I’ve been giving you space." Vessa set the book aside. "There’s a difference."

"Is there?" Silas moved deeper into the room, his eyes never leaving hers. "Because it feels like you’ve been waiting for me to ask the question you knew I’d eventually ask."

Vessa was quiet for a long moment. Then: "What do you want to know?"

"Everything." Silas’s voice was steady, but his hands were clenched at his sides. "You knew our father. And you’ve been holding back information about Aldric since the day you arrived here."

"I was protecting you...."

"I don’t need protection from the truth." The words came out harder than he’d intended. "I need to know who my father actually was. Not the legend. Not the Alpha the pack remembers. The man. The real person."

Vessa studied him with those ancient eyes that had seen too much. "Are you sure? Because some truths, once known, can’t be unknown. They change how you see the world. How you see yourself."

"I’m sure."

She nodded slowly, as if she’d been expecting this answer. "Sit down, Silas. This is going to take a while."

Silas settled into the chair across from her, forcing his muscles to relax even though every instinct was screaming at him to pace, to move, to do anything but sit still while his world potentially shifted.

Vessa took a breath. "Aldric Blackwood was brilliant. Charismatic. One of the strongest Alphas of his generation. He built the Blackwood pack into something formidable, something that commanded respect across the entire supernatural community." She paused. "He was also deeply, profoundly flawed."

Silas’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.

"He loved your mother," Vessa continued. "That part is true. Shw was his fated mate, and the bond between them was powerful. Real. But Aldric... he had demons, Silas. Things that haunted him long before he met your mother. Things he never dealt with properly."

"What kind of demons?"

Vessa’s eyes grew distant, remembering. "His own father was brutal. Not in the way that builds strength, but in the way that breaks spirits. Aldric grew up believing that power was the only thing that mattered, that showing weakness, any weakness was unforgivable. He spent his entire childhood being told he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t strong enough, would never measure up."

"So he became the strongest Alpha he could be," Silas said quietly.

"Yes. And he pushed himself beyond what was healthy or sustainable. Beyond what was sane, honestly." Vessa’s expression was pained. "Your mother tried to help him. Tried to get him to talk about the trauma, to process it, to heal from it. But Aldric couldn’t. Wouldn’t. He saw vulnerability as weakness, and weakness as death."

Silas felt something cold settle in his chest. "What did he do?"

"He took risks. Unnecessary ones. Picked fights with enemies that should have been handled diplomatically. Put himself in danger over and over because some part of him was convinced he had to prove he was invincible." Vessa’s hands twisted in her lap. "The night he died, the attack that killed him and your mother, it wasn’t random, Silas. Aldric knew it was coming."

The words hit like a physical blow. "What?"

"He’d been getting warnings for weeks. Intelligence that so territories were planning something. Your mother begged him to take precautions, to increase security, to be careful. But Aldric..." She stopped, choosing her words carefully. "He saw it as a challenge. As a test of his strength. He refused to hide. Refused to show what he called ’cowardice.’"

Silas’s breath caught. "Are you saying he got himself killed on purpose?"

"No. Not on purpose. But he chose pride over safety. Chose his ego over his family. And when the attack came..." Vessa’s voice cracked. "Your mother died protecting him. Died trying to save a man who was too stubborn to save himself."

The silence in the library was absolute.

Silas sat very still, processing information that was rewriting everything he thought he knew about his parents. About himself.

"Why didn’t you tell us this before?" His voice came out rougher than intended. "Why let us believe he was some kind of hero?"

Vessa said gently. "Because you lost your parents and you needed something to hold onto. Because the truth, that your father’s pride and unresolved trauma contributed to both their deaths, would have destroyed you."

"We deserved to know..."

Vessa’s looked at him and said firmly. "You didn’t deserve to carry the weight of your father’s failures on top of your grief. So yes, I let you believe the simplified version. The heroic Alpha who died protecting his pack. That part was true too, he did die fighting. But the full truth is more complicated. It always is."

Silas stood abruptly, needing to move, needing space. He paced to the window and stared out at the estate grounds without really seeing them.

"Did he love us?" The question came out smaller than he’d intended. "Me and my brothers? Or were we just... extensions of his legacy?"

"He loved you." Vessa’s answer was immediate and certain. "All three of you. Absolutely. But he didn’t know how to show it in healthy ways. He pushed Damian too hard, tried to make him into the perfect heir. He praised Damon’s strength but dismissed his emotional intelligence. And you...." She paused. "You reminded him too much of himself. The quiet one. The observer. The one who saw too much and felt too deeply."

"He barely spoke to me," Silas said, his voice hollow. "I thought it was because I disappointed him. Because I wasn’t strong like Damian or charismatic like Damon."

"No." Vessa crossed to stand beside him. "He avoided you because you scared him. Because when he looked at you, he saw the parts of himself he’d tried to bury. The sensitivity. The deep feeling. The capacity for vulnerability. He didn’t know how to be around that, so he kept his distance."

The revelation should have hurt. Maybe it did. But mostly Silas just felt... tired.