"Loyalty is just a word," I say quietly, "if you're just appreciating shit from afar. Like a doll you're hoping will always be on display."
His jaw tightens.
"What would you know about it?"
"I know what I saw with my parents." My voice is steadier now—grounded in memory, in the truth I carry like armor. "My father adored my mother. Not as a possession. Not as a symbol. As aperson. He learned her passions. Supported her dreams. Let her be strong without feeling threatened by it."
I let the words hang.
Waiting.
Watching.
"And from what I've researched," I add, softer now, "you adored her too. Didn't you."
The silence is answer enough.
I whistle—low, knowing, the sound of puzzle pieces finally clicking into place.
"Sothat'swhy you decided to betray us."
His expression doesn't change.
But his hands do.
They're shaking.
Slightly.
Almost imperceptibly.
But I see it.
"You asked for my mother's hand," I continue, voice dropping to something almost gentle. "Asked to be her Alpha instead of with my father and the group of men he chose. And she said no."
08:12
08:11
08:10
The bomb continues its countdown.
But I keep talking.
"She didn't want to cause tension or trauma with her best friend—your wife. The woman who loved you, who trusted you, who believed you when you said she was enough." My laugh is bitter now. "And you couldn't accept that. Couldn't handle rejection from an Omega you decided you deserved."
"I said shut?—"
"So you set out to kill our entire lineage." The words come faster now, tumbling out like water through a broken dam. "But my brother and I missed the killing spree. Survivors. Loose ends. And now you've painted some narrative about enemy bloodlines and necessary eliminations when really it all started because you couldn't be a loyal Alpha to the Omega who just wanted love."
His face is red now.
Flushed with rage.
Good.
Angry people make mistakes.
