A true mother couldn't sacrifice her children.
Inside, I shatter into tiny fragments, though I fight with every ounce of strength not to let that hurt rise to the surface. My lips compress as my eyes burn. I stare at the ground again, trying to regain my composure, but a traitorous tear escapes. It leaves a warm, wet track down my cheek, and I sniff, trying desperately to contain the rest of the water behind a dam of indifference.
I hate that she gets to witness that lone, vulnerable tear.
I don't want her to have any power over me at all. In fact, I want her to be the blurry stranger—some unknown figure in the distance. But what I want is an imaginary life and not the reality I've got to face.
What do I do?
How do I resist a monarch's orders? An alpha's? My mother's?
I don't know.
"Alpha Team X is shipping out anyway," Mother says casually, a smugness to her tone that tells me she thinks I've acquiesced. "They leave in the morning. Right for the front lines."
My eyes widen, and my hand comes over my mouth to cup it, to block the horrified scream that wants to emerge.
She moved up their timeline. I know she did.
And probably changed their destination.
She's going to send my scent matches to their deaths, all so that she can tie me to the alphas she wants.
My eyes stare vacantly at the tufts on the red rug that ascend the stairs and run underneath her throne. One strand looks like it might be fraying, coming unwound.
I've never identified with an inanimate object more.
I thought my life was finally coming together. That the worst was behind me and that reuniting with my men was going to be the start of a brand-new chapter.
How stupidly foolish of me.
Life likes to hit you when you're down. But when you're up, fortune likes to roundhouse you right in the face.
Actually, that might be giving too much credit to fortune. This level of cruelty is all the queen’s. Hers alone.
Without another word, I turn on my heels and walk out—and the only sound in the room is the echoing click of my retreating footsteps.
29
BRYLEE
The wind streaksthrough the air and transforms everyone's hair into flapping ribbons. Overhead, the moon glows a soft dove gray. Dawn hasn't fully broken yet as I stand outside a side exit to the palace with Alpha Team X, as pale and lifeless as a ghost.
I've cried and held tight to each of them.
Begged them to run away with me.
But their sense of duty far outweighs my own.
They still believe in this country. In Hypso.
In these stupid fucking orders.
They have faith in a way I don't know if I ever can again, and a bitter taste invades the back of my mouth every time I think of my mother.
I haven't had the heart to tell them about my confrontation with her.
What if it distracts them from the fight?
