What Could Have Been [Thiam Rewrites]

Chapter 23: Do Not Go Gentle

A/N: In advance, I'm sorry. This chapter may require tissues and ice cream.

TW: mentions of homophobia (contested), violence, thoughts of suicide, and death. Please remember that this is a happy ever after fic, so if it's not happy, it's not over.

A/N: Song pairings: Rescue by Lauren Daigle and Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush

Liam

Just when he thought his anger had reached a peak, the flames burned even hotter, threatening to consume him. Crimson overpowered his vision, and this time when his wolf wanted to join him, he welcomed it.

He hauled his father off the floor and pinned him to the wall by his throat. A blurry childhood memory of him doing exactly the same thing to his mother clanged through his mind, and Liam didn't feel bad when his claws drew blood.

When his father cried out, Liam only tightened his grip just beneath the jaw.

"Where is he?" Liam snarled.

"Imara has him," his father managed.

"WHERE?" Liam roared.

"She said you'd know the place. Something about a Nemeton."

Liam's wolf wanted nothing more than to sink his fangs into his father's throat and rip, but he settled for bringing his head down as he brought his knee up. This time, when he sank to the floor, he stayed down.

The door creaked open again, and Liam flung himself at it, claws at the ready.

Mason swore and dove out of the way, pulling Corey along with him.

Liam immediately froze, but even that much of a pause had his entire body quaking with rage.

Mason peered inside at the carnage that was his house. "Liam?" he demanded. "What the hell is going on—is that your dad?"

"What's left of him, anyway," Corey muttered.

But Mason's eyes were locked on Liam. "Li, what's going on?"

"Imara has Theo," he said, his words were coming out in a low growl but he couldn't mold them into anything else. "At the Nemeton. I have to go. I have to leave right now—"

"Liam," Mason called, loudly enough to draw him out of his haze. "Listen to me. Listen to the beat of my heart, okay?"

Liam focused in on Mason, his face riddled with concern, and tried to do as he said.

"Take a deep breath and focus," Mason coaxed. "You need to breathe."

The crimson began to retreat, the unyielding rage subsiding with each deep breath. He tuned his own breathing to Mason's, trying to match their heart beats.

Just like he always did with Theo.

Theo, who wasn't here. Wasn't here because Imara had taken him—and knowing Theo, he hadn't gone down without a fight. He was probably injured and—the flames reignited.

"Theo's in danger," Liam snarled. "What part of that don't you understand?"

Mason gripped his arms then, the touch ice-cold against his searing skin.

"If you leave right now, you're going to end up sacrificed!" Mason said. "This is exactly what Imara wants, do you hear me?"

"I don't care—"

"Liam, we're going to help him. I promise, but we need a plan first. Do you trust me?" Mason asked, his voice stern and commanding.

"Yes," Liam said, and it came out an actual word instead of a snarl.