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“Why do you think that?” Soren asks gently.

Idril covers her eyes with her hands as if she can hide from the world. She whimpers as her Omega pushes forward, and I tense, muscles straining with need. It’s taking every ounce of my self-control to stay still and let her lead this conversation, but fuck if my Alpha isn’t losing his shit.

“You’re both going to be so mad,” she whimpers, and when she lifts her head, her eyes are swimming with tears.

I can’t fucking take it anymore. I reach out and gently pull her hands away from her face. She resists at first before giving in. But she still won’t look at me, and I hate it.

Soren reaches over and runs a hand down her back in soothing strokes. “Idril, please tell us, Little Mate. Whatever it is, it will be alright. We aren’t going anywhere. Neither of us. We may even be able to help, if you let us.”

She chokes out an incredulous laugh that turns into a heart-breaking sob of despair.

“Not with this. No one can help with this.” She pulls her hands from mine and even though I hate it, I don’t fight her. She wraps her arms around her legs and pulls them close to her body, curling over them and making herself small. She’s pulling away from me. From us.

Whatever it is that she’s struggling with, it’s obviously not fucking Nesting. She has no idea how to mute her side of the Bond, so the despondency thrumming from her to me is enough to bring me to tears.

Does this have something to do with what happened to her while I was injured? Is it something my Pack did? I know we have a thousand things to discuss, but I thought giving her time to breathe before tackling the specifics was best for her. I’m terrified of overwhelming her. I don’t want to force her to talk about everything that’s been done to her, but what if she thinks I don’t care about it because I haven’t brought it up yet?

My lungs seize when she looks me directly in the eyes and whispers, “Daxen and Vae.”

My brothers’ names may as well be two bullets right through my heart. Despite their physical absence, their presence swells, filling the room and stealing our oxygen.

I reach for her hands, swallowing a whimper of my own when she hesitates before placing them in mine.

“What about them?” I’m trying to project calm, but it’s fucking impossible. My voice breaks on the words, and I realize I’m shaking. A thousand different possibilities of what she’s about to tell me flit through my mind, each one worse than the last.

“They’re my Scent-Matches, too.”

The words fall from her lips, and my stomach drops.

Fuck… this is my fault. I should have discussed this with her last night. I never should have let her fall asleep without telling her what I already know. What the fuck was I thinking?

Say something, asshole!

Idril’s hands are shaking, and each breath she takes is sharp and shallow. My Alpha’s right—I need to fucking fix this. Now.

“Idril, sweet girl…” I swallow thickly, fingers spasming around hers. “I know.”

My Omega gasps right as Soren barks, “You know?!”

I search frantically for a way to explain this to them both without fucking it up even more.

“I caught your scent in the basement of your house,” I tell her. The words tumble out, one after the other. I’m not even thinking about what I’m saying; I just know I have to explain.

Idril sits silently as I recall that moment. Her eyes are glassy, unfocused, delicate hands lying limp in mine. She’s looking at me but… she’s not seeing me.

Fates, I should have told her as soon as I saw her. I’m such an idiot!

“I meant to tell you in the meadow,” I tell her. “I’m so sorry. It should have been the first thing I told you. I just never expected… and then you were ripped away from me, and I was so… angry.”

“What meadow?” Soren asks, moving to Idril’s side and wrapping an arm around her.

“Later,” I promise, pleading with him to let it go for now.

He narrows his eyes but nods.

“I wasn’t going to keep it from you. I swear. I just…”

“You feel trapped.” Her eyes lift and finally meet mine, brimming with pain.