Wallace sat by the stream, his large rabbit ears drooping under the weight of his own guilt. The warmth of the setting sun cast a soft glow on his fur, but he barely felt it. The memory of that day lingered in his mind, a dark shadow he couldn’t escape. Guilt gnawed at him like a relentless creature clawing at his insides. He had replayed it countless times, each moment like a wound reopening, each regret a fresh sting.
He didn’t need to look up when he heard footsteps approaching; he knew by the steady, familiar gait that it was Kai. The fox stopped beside him, just close enough for their fur to almost brush, yet far enough to keep a guarded distance. They sat in silence, listening to the gentle babble of the water and the soft rustling of leaves around them. The quiet felt thick, heavy, weighted by words unsaid and truths avoided.
Finally, Wallace broke the silence, his voice barely a whisper. “Kelvin... he told me I was sexist... and mean.” His voice quivered as if uttering the words gave them power.
Kai didn’t respond, his gaze focused on the water, his jaw set in a grim line. The tension between them was palpable, like a storm that had yet to break.
“I didn’t stop,” Wallace continued, his voice faltering. “Because... you’re an alpha. I thought... you could take it.”
Kai’s silence was like an accusation. His eyes remained fixed on the water, unblinking, his body as still as stone.
“I thought...” Wallace swallowed, his throat tightening painfully. “Because you’ve always been so strong... I thought you couldn’t be hurt by me. I didn’t stop when you begged me. I kept going until...” He could barely force the words out, his voice choked with shame. “Until I finished inside you.”
The confession hung in the air, heavy and unforgiving. Wallace couldn’t bring himself to look at Kai, his own shame too raw, too consuming. His heart pounded as he waited, half hoping for anger, for shouting, for anything that would break the awful silence.
When Kai finally spoke, his voice was cold, each word cutting through the air like a blade. “You thought that because I’m an alpha, I couldn’t be hurt by you?”
Wallace nodded miserably, his eyes on the ground. “You’re strong, Kai. You could kill hundreds of rabbits without a second thought. I thought that meant you couldn’t be hurt... that I couldn’t break you.”
Kai turned to him then, his gaze sharp, his eyes flashing with a pain that Wallace hadn’t allowed himself to see before. His voice was soft, but his words carried the weight of betrayal. “You didn’t stop because you didn’t want to see me as anything but strong. You let yourself believe I was unbreakable.”
Tears welled in Wallace’s eyes, and he quickly wiped them away, as if hiding his own vulnerability might lessen the reality of his actions. “I didn’t want to admit I could hurt you,” he whispered, his voice trembling. “If I admitted that... I’d have to face what I did.”
Kai’s voice softened slightly, though the pain in it was unmistakable. “Being an alpha doesn’t mean I can’t be hurt, Wallace. It doesn’t mean I can’t be broken.”
Wallace felt the full weight of Kai’s words settle over him, crushing him beneath a wave of regret. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I’ll never stop being sorry.”
Kai’s hand reached out, resting lightly on Wallace’s. The touch was gentle, almost comforting, yet Wallace felt the unspoken hurt beneath it. “I know you’re sorry,” Kai murmured, his voice steady but tinged with sadness. “But being sorry isn’t enough. You have to be better.”
Wallace nodded, the tears now flowing freely. “I will. I’ll be better.”
Kai stood without another word, walking away with a grace that left Wallace feeling hollow, a faint flicker of hope lingering in the fox’s parting steps. Maybe, just maybe, Kai still believed he could change.
Not long after, Wallace heard more footsteps. This time, he looked up to see Fiona and Mat approaching, their expressions grim. Wallace felt a fresh wave of dread wash over him. He knew what was coming.
“Wallace,” Fiona’s voice was icy, her gaze hard. “We need to talk.”
Wallace rose slowly, already bracing for her words. “I know.”
Fiona’s eyes bore into him, filled with a cold fury that made him feel small, exposed. “I haven’t forgotten what you did to Kai. You violated his trust, and you think that just because you’ve helped us with your magic, that somehow makes it okay?”
Wallace’s ears drooped, his shoulders sagging under the weight of her accusation. “No. I don’t expect it to.”
“Good,” Fiona snapped. “Because it doesn’t. You think your magic can erase what you did?”
Wallace felt his frustration rise, mingling with his guilt. “I’m not saying it erases anything,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “But my magic has helped us. Doesn’t that count for something?”
Fiona’s eyes narrowed, her voice like ice. “Your magic doesn’t erase the damage you caused.”
Wallace clenched his fists, struggling to keep his emotions in check. “I know I can’t undo what I did. But I’m trying to make things right.”
Fiona’s voice rose, a sharp edge to her words. “You’re not doing enough. You still don’t understand the weight of what you’ve done.”
Wallace stared at her, feeling his frustration boiling over. “What I did was wrong, but planning to massacre an entire party of rabbits is worse than what I did.”
Her eyes flared with anger, but before she could retort, Mat stepped between them, his presence calming yet firm. “Wallace, this isn’t about comparing sins. We’ve all made mistakes.”
Fiona crossed her arms, her gaze unforgiving. “But I didn’t go through with it. You did, Wallace. You didn’t stop yourself.”
Her words hit Wallace like a blow, breaking down his last defenses. He was left standing there, vulnerable, the weight of his actions pressing down on him. “I’m not trying to justify myself,” he muttered. “I know what I did was unforgivable.”
Fiona took a step closer, her voice low and piercing. “Then act like it.”
Before he could respond, Fiona lunged forward, her fist aimed at his face. Wallace reacted instinctively, a glowing portal opening just before her fist connected. Her arm sailed through the portal, striking herself in the back of the head as she staggered forward, momentarily stunned.
Wallace scrambled to his feet, raising his wand and conjuring a shimmering, protective bubble around himself. “I’m a magical rabbit,” he said, his voice shaky but defiant. “Did you really think defeating me would be easy?”
Fiona glared at him, her eyes blazing with fury. “You think a bubble’s going to protect you?”
Wallace swallowed hard, his grip on his wand tightening as he struggled to keep the barrier intact. “I’ve had visions of this moment,” he said, his voice gaining strength. “Every time I fight you, I lose. But not this time. This time, I have the bubble. I’ll just wait until you give up.”
Fiona scoffed, rubbing the back of her head. “You think hiding behind that thing is going to make everything better? You think I’ll just give up?”
Wallace took a deep breath, his heart pounding as he found the courage to face her anger. “I know you hated rabbits because of how they treated you. Maybe I remind you of them, maybe that’s why you can’t stand me.” He hesitated, his gaze flicking to her clenched fists. “Mat’s different, I get that. But he’s still a rabbit, Fiona. And you can’t beat up your kids just because they’re bad bunnies.”
Fiona froze, her fists still at her sides, her eyes narrowing as the weight of his words settled over her. Wallace’s heart raced, but he held her gaze, his own anger and regret mixing into something he couldn’t quite name. “You’re mad at me, and you’ve got every right to be. But hurting me doesn’t fix anything. It won’t fix what happened to you, and it won’t change what I did.”
Her jaw clenched as she glared at him, her breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts. “You think I’d take this out on my kids?” she spat.
“I think you’re hurting, and I think you’re scared,” Wallace replied softly. “But what happened to you doesn’t have to define you. You’re stronger than that. Mat saw it, and I see it too.”
Her eyes flickered with something—pain, maybe, or the memory of a time she wanted to forget. But she didn’t strike. The fury in her gaze simmered, shifting into something quieter, something unspoken.
Wallace felt the magic in the bubble starting to fade, the glow dimming with his effort. He knew it wouldn’t hold much longer, but for once, he wasn’t afraid. “Fiona, I’m not asking for your forgiveness,” he said, his voice steady, grounded. “I just want you to see me—not as another rabbit who’s hurt you, but as someone who’s trying to be better. I’m trying to make things right.”
Her fists slowly unclenched, though the fire in her eyes hadn’t completely died. “Don’t act like you know me,” she muttered, her voice strained. “You don’t know half of what I’ve been through.”
“I don’t,” Wallace admitted. “But I know what it’s like to hurt people you care about. And I know it’s not too late to make things better.”
The bubble shimmered, cracked, and with a soft pop, vanished completely. Wallace stood there, defenseless, meeting Fiona’s gaze with nothing but his resolve and his remorse.
For a long moment, she didn’t move. She just stared at him, her expression unreadable. Then, finally, she let out a sharp exhale, shaking her head as if trying to clear the storm within.
“Fix it with Kai,” she muttered, her voice still hard but lacking its earlier venom. “And don’t think for a second that this means I’m letting you off the hook.”
Wallace nodded, relief washing over him. “I understand.”
With one last look, Fiona turned and walked away, her movements stiff, as if each step was an effort to hold herself together. Wallace watched her go, feeling the weight of her words settle into his bones. The path to redemption was long and unforgiving, but he knew, for the first time, that he had taken a step.
