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And I just stood there and watched.

Worthless.

The commentary from my Alpha makes me wince. Yet another thing that’s changed. He no longer harps on about the pretty Omega he wants to purr for. Now he literally refuses to address me outside of spitting insults in as few words as possible whenever I’m at my lowest.

Not sure if he just doesn’t want to waste energy on me using full sentences, or if he thinks I’m so fucking stupid he needs to dumb everything down so I don’t get confused by words with more than one syllable.

Either way, it’s the only time my instincts even acknowledge me anymore.

Ass-taco.

“Okay, that’s not even a real thing,” I snap, and my Alpha shrugs like he literally could not give a single shit.

Somewhere behind me, something made of heavy metal falls, clattering against the stone walkway between the compound and HQ and making me wince.

Fates! Why does everything remind me of that cursed fucking morning? My nervous system is shot—every loud or unexpected noise has me bracing for the ground to start heaving and the castle to start shaking again.

That part still feels like a dream. The entire compound down to its foundations just… lost it. Like the building and the ground it sits on were waking up in answer to her call.

I’ve experienced earthquakes before. What happened then wasn’t an earthquake—it was fucking chaos. Dishes that were nowhere near the edge of the table flew into the air and shattered against the floor. Dozens of priceless original artworks jumped from their moorings, antique frames splintering against hardwood and stone and ripping through the canvases. The wood around the windows cracked, glass shattering across three floors.

The sound was eerily similar to bones snapping in half.

Anything that wasn’t bolted to the ground—which, let’s be fucking honest, was nearly everything—was affected by the mayhem. Furniture, electronics, booze, curtains, books—it all fell victim as the earth responded to her agony.

And what did I do while my home fell apart, centuries-old badass warrior I am?

Oh, that’s right! Nothing.

Cocktopus.

“Fuck. Off,” I hiss.

“Uh… what?”

My head snaps up, and I realize at some point I walked right into a group of trainees in the middle of sparring outside the compound. Not near the group. Not dangerously close to them.

Right through the fucking middle of two dozen males training in hand-to-hand combat. They’re all looking at me with expressions varying between confusion and fear, and not a single one bothered to stop me from wandering into their practice. They just stopped what they were doing and waited for my deranged ass to mozy on by without a so much as a “hey, what the fuck?”

“Were you asshole’s just gonna stand there with your thumbs up your ass?” I shout, sweeping my glare around the group. “You’re all too scared to speak up when someone interrupts your training? What… were you just gonna watch as I disappeared into the forest? Maybe grab some popcorn and follow me all the way off the nearest Fatesdamned cliff with nary a damn warning?!”

I’m shouting. I know I am. I think I might actually be losing it for real right now, but I can’t seem to stop.

“Well!?”

A couple of males shuffle awkwardly. A throat clears somewhere behind me. Multiple sets of eyes dart this way and that but refuse to meet my eye.

My Alpha barks out a laugh.

Blind, stupid Assbat.

“You’re literally just making up words!”

At my furious roar, the five males closest to me exchange confused looks, like they’ve never argued with their instincts before.

I scowl, curl my hands into fists, and order, “Get back to training!”

I turn on my heel and stride purposely back toward HQ, but not before—in an attempt to save face—I shout over my shoulder, “That was a test, by the way! And you all failed! How can anyone trust you to have their backs if you’ll let a Commander walk right into a live combat zone?!”