My knuckles are white, my pulse hammering against my ribs. I'd left my mates in the hallway, their concerned faces blurred through my rage-filled vision. Their soft calls of my name had faded as I'd stormed down the castle corridor, each footfall a thunderous beat in the symphony of my fury.
This confrontation is mine alone.
The room smells of sickness—sour and thick, clinging to the heavy velvet curtains—mingling with the sweet scent of lavender from candles Caran sometimes burns. He claims that their aroma has “healing properties”—at least according to the New Age website he bought them off of. It's a dissonant perfume of decay and denial.
My eyes adjust to the dim light filtering through the heavy fabric, and it’s only then that I see him, curled up on his four-poster bed.
Teddie.
He looks worse than the last time I saw him, so much worse it's a physical blow. His skin is pale as parchment against the dark sheets, so translucent I can see the faint blue veins mapping a fragile network beneath. His golden hair, once as vibrant as a crown of sunlight, is now limp and dull against the pillow.
My chest tightens painfully, a vise squeezing the air from my lungs.
This is my brother, the crown prince, the boy who once built a treehouse in the castle gardens and then tried to see if he could flip to the ground without hurting himself, reduced to a fragile shell by the disease coursing through his veins. Each shallow breath he takes is a victory, a tiny flicker of life in the encroaching darkness.
Caran sits at Teddie's bedside, his hand resting possessively on my brother's arm. The omega's gentle expression transforms to shock as he registers my presence, his blue eyes widening.
“Brylee,” he whispers. “Thank fuck. I tried to call you, but…” He swallows erratically and flicks his gaze back toward Teddie. “I couldn’t get a hold of you. Teddie is… Fuck, he’s getting worse. But I’m so goddamn happy to see you. We’ve been worried.”
My fury returns, hot and sharp, at his words.
Worried.
How worried was he when the Noths kidnapped and tortured me?
Did he know where I was the entire time they had me?
I pull the crumpled note from my pocket, the paper still bearing the faint scent of Sam's cologne—something clean and woodsy,now forever tainted in my memory. I throw it at Caran and watch as it flutters onto the bedspread between them.
“What is this?” My voice trembles with rage, each word a shard of ice.
Teddie's brow furrows in confusion, his eyes struggling to focus on the paper. “Brylee? What's wrong? You look…”
A fit of coughing steals his words.
Maybe I should have this confrontation away from Teddie, but I know my brother will never forgive me if I leave him in the dark. This involves him, even though I wish it didn’t.
But if Caran truly is a spy for the Noths…
Caran's face drains of color, turning ashen, as he quickly skims the content of the note. He knowsexactlywhat I discovered, what I pieced together. I see it in the sudden rigidity of his spine, the way his fingers clench in the blanket, the glossy sheen that materializes in his eyes.
Fuck, I thought of Caran as mybrother.
How could he have done this to me? To Teddie?
“Sam,” I say, the name tasting like poison on my tongue. “The beta who betrayed me. Who led those Noth alphas right to me. He's your brother, isn't he?”
Caran doesn't even deny it. He seems to shrink in on himself with every word I speak, his shoulders curling inward as if trying to disappear into his own skin. A shiver reverberates through him, and he blinks rapidly, tears dangling from his lashes.
Pain—an acute type of agony, the likes of which I’ve never felt before—claws at me, sinking its talons in deep. It leaves behind long, jagged scratches that feel as if they’ll never heal.
Sam… Sam was my friend, and his betrayal stung.
But Caran? He’sfamily. How am I supposed to get past this?
Is it because of me? Is there something inherently wrong with me that would cause the people in my life to want me dead?
First the triplets, then Sam, and now Caran. My mother, too, if you want to count her betrayal.
