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CEVON
A shiver races down my spine, my eyes widening, as I cock my head to check I’m not wrong. I slide the drawer open, and my eyebrows raise.
I’m not wrong. I’m not hearing things.
The phone is ringing.
It’s really fucking ringing. I take a deep breath before grabbing it out of the drawer, kind of scared he’s going to hang up before I accept the call.
When I left my old pride, I cut off the life I used to have. I lost touch with friends, with colleagues… with my brother. I had no choice, not if I wanted to do what needed to be done. If I wanted to get revenge for Lainey, if I wanted to give her the justice she deserves, that our fucking son deserves, then I needed to do it alone.
But I’m weak. I kept my sim card, and after purchasing a new phone that couldn’t be tracked properly, I blocked every single number except that of Atticus.
I charge the stupid phone once a week, leaving the ringer on loud, just in case he wants to talk to me, just in case he reaches out.
It’s pathetic, and in all these years he’s never bothered to try, which only makes me even more pathetic for waiting. The amount of times in the first year that I nearly broke down and reached out, to beg him for help for support, it’s embarrassing. I’m embarrassing.
But I didn’t. It’s a lot harder to call your perfect brother when you’re off your fucking tits. And I’ve done so much better without him and his moral fucking high ground that would ruin some carefully laid plans.
So, for him to call, well… I’m not excited to know why, even if my racing heartbeat says otherwise.
“Hello, brother,” I say, hoping he misses the wobble of my voice. I laugh, trying to fool my body that everything is okay, that we don’t need the racing heart or the panic within. I hear him sigh on the other end, and it helps. He doesn’t get to see me sweat.
I cut him off for a reason. An important reason. He doesn’t have that excuse. He didn’t try to contact me or figure out what is wrong. He chose his pride over me, and, no, I don’t mean the actual pride he’s in charge of. Well, I suppose that anger is a good way to replace the panic.
“It’s been a while,” I drawl.
“It has,” he says with his crisp voice and strong Northern accent. It’s not changed, not even a little bit. He’s putting a bit of distance between us, keeping it professional, but that only angers me and my lion. How fucking dare he reach out after all this time and act like there’s nothing between us. “I think it’s time for you to come home.”
I can’t help but laugh at the fucking audacity of him. Did he really think that’s how it would work? That after all these years, after everything I’ve had to do to survive, that he could just call and beckon me home like I’m some errant child?
He’s a fool if he thinks that’s the case, and my brother is no fool.
“I don’t have a home anymore, Nix.” Shit. I fucked up, calling him Nix, as if we’re still close.
“Phee, please,” he begs, and this time he lets his voice betray his emotions. He’s devastated, and it’s kind of cute that he’s also calling me by my nickname. You know, if I cared, which I don’t. “Please, come back to the pride. I can help get you out of whatever situation you’ve got yourself into.”
Oh, double shit. I think he might have finally learnt what I’ve been doing all of these years. I can’t decide whether I’m frustrated it’s taken him this long to figure it out or if I’m glad he’s only just realised how much of a disappointment I am.
“The situation you refer to is one I’ve created myself,” I snarl. Seems frustration is winning. My lion is just as pissed off as I am, maybe even more so. The animal within knows our mate deserves revenge, that we deserve to get revenge for the loss of our fucking heir, and I’m going to deliver. It’s the only thing that’s kept us going. My brother is a disappointment by not helping us. “I’ve clawed my way up, and I’m the King here. Don’t call me again.”
I throw the phone at the wall, glaring at it when it just drops to the ground without breaking. Investing in a Nokia phone was the best thing for my anger issues, but it doesn’t help when all I wanted to see was it smash into a bunch of tiny pieces.
The phone buzzes from its place on the floor, and it takes me a minute before I go to get it.
I’m determined to torture myself, it seems.
I glance at the screen, and rage immediately fills me.
Atticus
You don’t need to fight the demons alone, Phee. I love you.
Cevon
Love died the day my mate and son were taken from me.
The day you chose to turn your back on me.
