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She’s gone, taken, and I’m here, useless, stewing in a pot of my own helpless rage.
The door creaks open, a sliver of light from the hall cutting through the murk of my self-imposed cell. Oberon stands there, his silhouette framed by the doorway, a pillar of purpose against my inertia.
“Rise and shine, brother.” His voice is gravel mixed with command. “Can’t let you rot in here.”
I grunt, an inarticulate sound that doesn’t do justice to the storm inside. But he comes closer, rolling up his sleeve to flash the ink on his arm—the pack tattoo we got with Aisling.
The black outline of a star.
It’s a punch to the gut, a call to action I can’t ignore.
“Pack,” I acknowledge, my voice raspy from disuse. It’s all the consent he needs.
“Damn right. Now get up.” Oberon grabs my arm, hoisting me out of bed with an ease that belies his size. “We have work to do.”
“Work?” I echo, feeling the weight of my limbs as if they’re made of lead.
“Finding Aisling,” he states plainly, the resolve in his eyes igniting something within me.
“Vance,” I say, the name a snarl in my throat.
“Speak your mind to him, then. Can’t promise it’ll be pretty.”
“Doesn’t need to be.”
With those words hanging between us, I stride down the hallway, my steps gaining momentum as the fog in my head clears. The door to Vance’s office looms ahead, and without bothering to knock, I push it open.
“Brotherly love,” I spit out the word like it’s poison. “That’s what you’ve been hiding?”
Vance looks up from his desk, his bright blue gaze sharp as knives, his greying hair like a crown of ash. “Gunnar.” He acknowledges me with a nod, unflinching. “You’re finally up.”
“Cut the crap, Vance. You knew who I was and said nothing. Let her get snatched right under our noses!”
“Sit down before you fall down,” Vance says, but there’s a steel edge to his voice. “You think I wanted any of this? That girl—“
He cuts off, jaw working. There’s something he’s not telling me; there always is. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust him again.
“She’s everything to me,” I snarl. “And you traded her away like a fucking toy.”
“I did it because she asked me to,” he says.
The words cut deeper than I thought they would, even though I suspected as much. I still don’t fully understand what the Eclipse wanted with her, but she’s smarter than to let herself be played.
“Why?” I ask.
Vance sighs, pulling two glasses and a bottle of whiskey out of his desk. He pours them both, then slides one across to me. “Sit.”
“No.”
“Fine.” He picks up his glass and takes a sip, not meeting my eyes. “Aisling…she got her memories back. She was part of the original experiment that resulted in the creation of Eros. She played you using an intensified omega perfume, Gunnar. You and Oberon.”
“You’re lying,” I growl, the room suddenly feeling smaller, closing in on us like a trap. Vance’s words echo in my head, bouncing off the walls of my skull. Aisling, an experiment? No…not her. She was real, every touch, every smile—real. My fingers curl into fists at the betrayal that hangs heavy in the air.
Vance leans back in his chair, his gaze flickering with a mix of regret and determination. “I wouldn’t lie about this, Gunnar. I need you to understand the gravity of the situation we’re in.”
“Which is?”
“Caius knows you’re my brother,” Vance says. “Which means this whole situation is going to get a whole lot worse…and your life is about to change.”
