Page 113

She deflates, like her words have drained her of every ounce of strength she had left in her small frame. Caelan moves, stepping around her chair and lifting her into his arms, retaking his seat now that she’s finished speaking.

The silence is deafening. The vents kick on, pumping AC and de-scenter, drowning out the sound of our breathing and⁠—

I strain my ears, unsure if I’m hearing what I think I am. But when Vae’s spine goes rigid and his head swings to the side, eyes wide with shock, I know he hears it too.

Purring. Caelan’s purring.

Something about the sound of my brother purring for his Fated Mate sends me into a panic. Later, I’ll go over this moment a thousand fucking times. I’ll replay it until I scream, but I don’t know if I’ll ever find an answer that’s not wrapped up in jealousy and the lightning-strike realization that—despite my distrust—I’ll never, ever have an Omega of my own to love and protect and purr for.

All I know is that my whole life has just changed on a dime. I’ve betrayed my brother. I’ve betrayed my Pack. I’ve betrayed an Omega and almost broke her in the process. This is—for a male who’s spent his entire life protecting Omegas—the kind of failure that makes you start questioning everything. Because how the fuck do you get something so wrong?

But instead of keeping my mouth shut and letting my brother have this after everything the two of them have been through—most of it thanks to me—I lash out. A surge of jealousy washes over me. My mouth parts, and words I don’t remember deciding to say tumble out.

“Isn’t your wolven Mate wondering where you are by now?”

A choked groan bursts from Vae, and I instantly wish I could magically rewind the last ten seconds and stitch my fucking mouth shut.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Idril twists in Caelan’s arms, turning to face me with wide, startled eyes brimming with confusion and pain. They’re bloodshot. Rimmed with exhaustion. She stares at me and blinks—a long, slow blink that broadcasts her thoughts so clearly she may as well be screaming them.

Why?

Her lower lip trembles and I watch, hating myself, as something twists in her expression.

Why, Daxen?

Her voice in my head grows louder. Her eyes beg me for an answer.

Why do you hate me?

I shake my head, and even knowing she can’t hear me and this is all in my fucking guilt-ridden imagination, I answer in my mind.

I don’t know. I’m so, so fucking sorry. I don’t know.

Her expression falls, and she closes her eyes like she’s too tired to look at me anymore. Her features twist in pain.

That’s when I realize….

I hate myself. I hate myself more than I could ever hate her.

Caelen’s hand lifts to gently cup the back of her head. His body is tense, curled around her like someone’s going to kick down the door and rip her from his arms.

I’ve never seen him like this. Never, in all our years together, have I seen him so much as embrace another female.

“What is he talking about, Idril?” Caelan’s voice is soft. Gentle. I can’t hold back my relieved breath at the lack of accusation in his tone.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Branwen reach for her phone. The Omega looks downright giddy.

I don’t like it.

“I just texted him,” she informs the room, voice sweet as pie. “He wanted to give you two a few minutes alone. Said it was important Idril be able to reunite with her Mate without him hovering like a bloody shadow.”

“How kind of him to agree to Idril’s request,” I respond.

“Oh, no. He offered,” Branwen clarifies, smile widening into a grin that makes me grind my teeth. “He wanted it to be a special moment for them. I don’t think he realized they were going to already have an audience when she finally got to see him, though.”

The message is clear—we’re all assholes for not considering that Idril and Caelan might want a private moment together. I glare at the Omega, but I swear to the Fates nothing phases this female.