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The thought that I’d fool him to get the truth isn’t even on his radar.
It’s like he doesn’t know me at all.
“We took her with us.” His answer is short. Clipped. A very family friendly way of saying he fucking kidnapped her, but alright. I let the silence linger, and no surprise, it’s Vae who cracks.
“She admitted to Gav and Silas that she was in on the ambush. We’ve been keeping her in the attic.” Vae cringes, like he’s aware of how fucked up that sounds out loud.
“And her father?”
Dax scrubs a hand down his face. “Still looking. We’ve got Bastards out every fucking night, searching everywhere within a two-hundred mile radius. We’re discussing expanding our search for a third time. He’s out there, but he’s gone to ground.”
“The trafficked Omegas?” I ask
“No new leads. Riven has Daniella in a safe house. Says she's had longer periods of lucidity. Ford and Evander are still with Calla in Chicago. They check in once a day, but there’s no change with her, either.”
“And what does Idril have to say? Surely she hasn’t been sitting in the attic for the last two weeks?”
I force my hands not to curl into fists and my jaw to relax.
“She’s been working,” Vae says. “Cleaning, laundry, scrubbing floors, cataloging the Lost Room…”
He trails off, leaning forward and resting his forearms on top of his thighs. He sighs, hanging his head like he’s struggling to decide what to say.
When he finally looks up at me, his eyes hold an entire ocean of regret.
“Listen, Caelan. A lot of shit’s happened these last few weeks.”
Dax snorts, but Vae doesn’t react—yet another deviation I note and file away.
“Vae’s right,” Dax adds. “A lot has happened. But you just woke up. You need rest, not drama. Once you feel better, we’ll debrief. Catch you up. Until then, I think you should focus on getting your strength back up.”
Using my concern for my health to hide the bullshit going on in this house is so fucking… him.
“No thanks,” I reply. Daxen’s eyes widen. I can see him gearing up for a lecture, but he’s not my father.
And if I have my way, he won’t even be my Bonded Packmate for much longer. I have no intention of staying Bonded to the males who traumatized my Omega.
The door to my room swings open and Gavran enters, checking to make sure the door clicks shut behind him. When he turns around, his eyes find mine with unerring accuracy. His relief is palpable, as is the exhaustion lining his face.
He crosses the room, coming to stand beside my bed in four long strides. He’s silent. Solemn. He lifts his fist, bringing it to his chest and resting it over his heart and beating it—Once. Twice. Three times—before lowering his eyes in deference and inclining his head in somber respect.
“Shalna’ohr tyvalk. Morir da vylnax.”
The Lost Language rolls off his tongue as though he was born to it. The words are lyrical. A single phrase—one of only four we have access to and know the meaning of—spoken by the first Bloodbound. Words passed down from generation to generation, used primarily during official ceremonies.
Except one. The Commander’s Vow, delivered to a warrior who nearly dies on the Commander’s watch. An apology. An acknowledgment. An oath.
I let myself appreciate the enormity of the moment. Not just for the vow, but because this is the last moment I will ever look at my Last Shield as a male of honor and integrity.
Because no matter what my Pack’s done to Idril, none of this would have happened without Gavan’s approval. He’s our leader, which means he, too, is responsible.
I dip my chin enough to be respectful and keep up the ruse. Inside, I’m seething.
“How are you feeling?” Gav asks, wariness in his tone that puts me on edge.
“I actually feel great,” I lie. I feel like I’m about to crawl out of my fucking skin if I don’t get to Idril. “In fact, I was just telling my Pack that I need to be briefed on what’s happened while I’ve been out.”
“Caelan—”
