Chapter 73: Free
Walter Pov
The fresh pig‑poop‑filled country air brushes past my cheeks. I take a long breath, enjoying the strange mix of freshness and the warmth of the morning sun. In the city I’m never a morning person, there’s nothing to see except traffic jams and endless noise, but here in the countryside I am. It’s peaceful, the air heavy with dew, and instead of loud honks I hear roosters crowing in the distance. This is real peace. When life gets tough, you come home, breathe, and forget about your problems for a while.
"Walts, are you just going to stand there or help?" My sister Beth’s voice cuts through the calm as she drives her shovel into the pig poop, lifting it and shoving it into a tin bucket.
"Yeah, yeah, I’ll help," I sigh, plunging my own shovel into the mess of pig poop and scooping before tossing it into the bucket. Everything about coming to my parents’ house is good except the farm work. Each time any of us siblings come home, we’re put to work for free and no excuses will be heard.
We’re surrounded by pigs, snorting and lazing around while we clean their pen. When we’re done here, we’ll feed the chickens and cows, and by then Mother will have breakfast ready. After we eat we head to the market and run her errands.
"How’s your divorce going?" I ask, glancing at Beth.
She huffs, clearly irritated. I’ve touched a nerve. The only reason she’s here is because she divorced her beta husband, who cheated with his yoga instructor. They were a two‑beta couple with three girls, my nieces.
"He doesn’t want to pay child support and is dragging the court procedure," she vents, shoving the shovel harder than necessary.
"Yikes. That must be frustrating."
"It is, but I’m sure your problems are greater. This is the first time you’ve come home without either of your mates. Trouble in paradise?"
I forgot, she hasn’t been to the city since the divorce happened, and my parents don’t have Wi‑Fi or decent network. She doesn’t know about the recent events I’m trying not to think about.
"Trust. Our problems are equally big in our own lives," I sigh, brushing sweat from my forehead.
"When are you going back to the city? Or do you intend to stay here forever, living out your days in Mum and dads house like me? I’m genuinely never leaving, no matter how much Mum nags. Unless I get a job that pays enough to raise three kids in the city."
"Yeah, your life has gone to shit, sis. Hearing you say it like that, I can see how bad it is. Luckily mine’s not that bad. Yet. I’ll go back to the city in about a week or two, when I’m ready to face society again."
She nods, and we finish cleaning the pen, making meaningless conversation to fill the silence.
We move through the farm, completing our duties. By the time the sun is fully up, we’re heading into the house with empty stomachs. On a normal day I’d just be waking up now, curled in bed with at least one mate beside me. But those days are gone.
Beth wipes her hands on her jeans, muttering something about how Mother will probably scold us for being late to breakfast. I laugh under my breath, shaking my head, and together we step inside, the smell of frying eggs and fresh bread already drifting through the air.
"Uncle Walter!" Wally, my four‑year‑old niece, shouts my name from the top of the stairs. She clutches her bunny plushie tightly, her hair a tangled mess, and she looks like she just woke up, probably because she did.
"Morning, Wally. How did you sleep?" I ask, looking up at her. I love kids; they have a special place in my heart, which is why I spoil all my nieces whenever I get the chance.
"Good, buat... yur phone was ringing," she yawns. Ever since she lost a tooth, her words have been harder to hear, and I find it adorable.
"My phone was ringing?" I ask, wanting to confirm, and she nods.
"Who was it?"
"I non’t knoa," she says, taking tiny steps down the stairs, clutching the railing with her free hand. I laugh softly. She probably does know and just forgot, or maybe she’s too sleepy to remember.
I don’t care who called. It’s not like I’m going to call back, nor do I have the network to. It was pure luck the call even came through. I am currently phone sober, and I’ve never been at more peace. Whatever the person wanted, it isn’t important.
Wally reaches the bottom step and waddles toward me, dragging her bunny by the ear. "Uncle, yur phone makes too much noise," she complains, scrunching her nose.
I chuckle, ruffling her messy hair. "Then next time, you answer it for me."
She giggles, shaking her head. "Nooo, I non’t nanna tac to frrangers."
"It’s strangers, not frrangers, Wally," I laugh, and she hides her face in her bunny, embarrassed but smiling.
We move into the dining room, and the warmth of home wraps around me. The space is small, country‑style cozy, with wooden beams overhead and lace curtains letting in soft morning light. The table is crowded with fresh food from the farm which are the eggs gathered not long ago that my mom cooked, milk still cool from the cows, bread baked golden in the oven, and fruit picked straight from the orchard. The smell of butter and herbs fills the air, mingling with the natural scent of my mother that always makes me feel safe.
"Thank you for the breakfast, Grandma," Wally says as she climbs into her chair, swinging her legs while she digs into her plate. Her older siblings, Marla, who is sixteen, and Valm, who is nineteen, shuffle in with phones glued to their hands, groaning.
"Ugh, there’s no connection here," Marla complains, sliding into the seat next to me, while Valm drops into the chair beside Wally. "I’m missing everything in the city."
"Yeah, Mom, when are we going back?" Valm sighs, rolling her eyes as she places her phone face‑down on the table. It’s funny watching these two nuggets break down every morning because there’s no network and nothing to do all day except walk around the farm or go to the creek.
I shake my head, setting down a jug of fresh juice. "The city brings nothing but problems. Enjoy the countryside. You’ll miss these days when you’re older, especially the creek."
Beth leans back in her chair, smiling faintly. "He’s right. The city is filled with snakes. Out here, you can breathe and forget about all your financial problems."
Valm shakes her head, crossing her arms as determination sparks in her eyes. She looks straight at her mother. "I’m going to be just like Uncle Walter. Our lives will be exactly the same. The moment I present as an omega—which I know will happen—I’ll leave this house, go back to the city, find myself a pack just like Uncle Walters, and never have to worry about bills as my modeling career thrives. I won’t suffer." Her gaze shifts from her shocked mother to me, and I choke on my eggs as our eyes meet.
"I’m going to be a star and loved by a pack just like yours, Uncle," she declares proudly.
I clear my throat, pulling away from her gaze, and nod. My voice is firm but kind. "If you do present as an omega, you will need a pack, so, I’d suggest you don’t choose one like mine. Aim higher. You deserve the best, a pack that will love and cherish only you."
"Don’t encourage her, Walter. She’s probably going to be a beta," Beth sighs. Ever since her divorce, she doesn’t like it when her kids dream of becoming anything that isn’t realistic or financially smart. I guess it’s because there was a time she was love‑brained, and it’s what got her where she is today. She doesn’t want that to happen to her girls.
"Mother, I know my body better than you, and I will be an omega. I’ll do just as Uncle says," Valm snaps, smiling at me with confidence.
Marla bursts out laughing. "You? an omega? Keep dreaming," she teases, and it doesn’t take long before the two of them start bickering like they do every other morning.
We continue our breakfast, ignoring their squabble. It’s a daily occurrence, and the rest of us are used to it. The noise, the smell of fresh food, and being in my childhood home, makes me feel lighter. For a moment, I forget the weight of the city and the chaos waiting for me there. Here, surrounded by family, instead of constant negativity and fights, I feel free.
I almost lost myself there for a second, in that penthouse of nightmares.