“Years.” Gray cuts everyone off abruptly. “Four years.”
Silence reigns in the kitchen until Tristan laughs abruptly.
“Well. Better be punished for something real than just a fling. I need to tell Erikkson we’ll do it.”
I stare desperately around the room, searching for an idea, something. The idea that Gray and I could cost Tristan and Jax – fuck, all of us – our mate, our happy fucking ending. I can’t cope with it.
“There must be something we can do,” I say desperately. “We need to think.”
“We need to go along with it,” Gray says quietly. Jax and I stare at him in dismay, but I catch Tristan nodding, obviously having reached the same conclusion.
“For now. Until we find something to take him down.” Tristan drains his glass.
Jax glares at us all. “And the Michaels girl? We’re just going to go through with this and destroy her fucking life? I don’t think so!”
“It won’t get that far.” Gray moves around the table, pouring his own glass of liquor. “We go through with the ceremony. We make it so clear she’s not wanted that she withdraws herself before the final mating ceremony. She doesn’t get Denied. She gets a chance to meet another pack, one who’ll treat her right. And if we get rid of Alicia and Erikkson, we’re free to look for our Soul Bonded.”
A muscle tics in Jax’s jaw. “Soul Bonded or not, I’m not happy with this. You think you can treat an omega so badly that she withdraws?”
Gray straightens. “When the alternative is Denial?”
Tristan nods, slowly, but I can see the frustration I feel mirrored on his face. She’ll be here for weeks, and we’ll need to do everything we can to put her off. It goes against everything – every instinct we have that says omegas are to be cherished, protected.
“Maybe we could tell her,” I offer. “If she seems decent—”
“You want to take that risk?” It's Tristan who poses the question, the answer in his eyes. “When there’s so much at stake?”
Staring down at the table, I shake my head.
“I’m sorry,” I offer. That's all I can say. Next to me, Gray is silent.
Jax swipes the bottle from the table, making his way out of the kitchen. “Sorry you didn’t trust us, or sorry you got found out?”
The door slams shut before I can respond.
“He’s not angry,” Tristan says. “He’s hurt.”
“And you?” Gray asks, his fist curling.
“I never thought we were the kind of pack to keep secrets from each other. I thought we were a team.” Tristan sighs. “I understand why you hid it. But I wish you hadn’t.”
My hand lifts to my chest as if I can rub away the pain. Gray glances at me before looking away.
The door closes again behind Tristan, more quietly this time.
“This is proof, Gray,” I whisper. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
But when I turn around, I’m the only one left.
11
TRISTAN
Istraighten my tie as I head up the steps to the Erikkson household. Their mansion is bigger than ours and ostentatious to the extreme, a towering piece of black brickwork that makes Gray shudder and call it an abomination every time we go past it.
Alicia pulls open the door before I can reach for the doorbell, her make-up flawless as ever, but not hiding the manic gleam in her eyes as she leans forward for a kiss.
I push past her, ignoring her pouting as I turn. “Where is your father?”
