"Planning to burn holes through her skull with that death stare?" I growl over my mead, watching Erik's eyes track Bryn like a heat-seeking missile. The girls are huddled by the fire, while we're doing our best to drink the longhouse dry. At least the alcohol takes the edge off this fucking hunger for Dani.
These days, feeding's become a drive-by affair—she lets me bite, then dances away. My fangs ache for more than just a quick taste, my body screaming to pin her down and remind her exactly who she belongs to. This celibacy bullshit is going to drive me insane.
Erik keeps up his brooding silence, silver eyes locked on Bryn like she might disappear if he blinks. "For fuck's sake," I slam my cup down. "At least tell Dani the truth about the mate bond. Your secretive shit is getting real old, brother."
"Your sexual frustration is hardly my primary concern," Erik's voice cuts like ice, though his fingers tighten around his cup until the metal creaks. "Bryn has made her choice clear with that Viking warrior. I won't force a bond where it's not wanted."
I growl low, watching my brother retreat behind his walls of self loathing.
Fucking martyr.
"Listen well, brother," I lean forward, letting my voice drop to a lethal whisper. "You have until midnight to stop this ethical martyrdom bullshit and claim what's yours, or I'm telling Dani everything. Your choice if you want to keep hiding behind that silver-haired wall of denial, but I'm done letting your emotional shit cockblock my entire fucking existence."
A flash of feral silver breaks through Erik's careful control. "You overstep," he warns, but there's a crack in his mask now. Good.
"No, brother. I'm just getting started."
"You know nothing of my situation," Erik's voice stays measured, but his eyes flash. "Bryn needs stability, not complications. Especially now."
"Bullshit." I drain my cup, setting it down. "She needs her mate, not some Viking dick who can't even look her in the eye since she lost her wing. You think I don't see him flinching every time she moves? Like she's damaged goods?"
A low growl rumbles from Erik's chest—the first crack in his precious control. "Watch yourself, brother."
"Or what? You'll brood at me harder?" I lean forward. "That warrior treats her like shit. Meanwhile, you're over here watching her every move like a starving man, planning fifty different ways to kill him in his sleep. How's that working out for you?"
"I've lived centuries without a mate," Erik's words are clipped, precise. "I can endure."
"Yeah? And how many of those centuries did you spend watching her fuck someone else?" The cup in Erik's hand crumples like paper. "That's what I thought."
"You push too far," he warns, but there's a tremor in his voice now.
"No, brother. I'm pushing exactly where it hurts. Because watching you two dance around each other is fucking pathetic. She's your mate. Fight for her."
"Fight for her?" Erik laughs. "While she lies with another? While she bears fresh scars, I failed to prevent? Tell me, brother, what exactly am I fighting for?"
"A mate who's trying to prove she's still worth something after losing everything." I slam my hand on the table, making the cups jump. "You think she's fucking that Viking because she wants him? She's trying to prove she's still desirable, you stupid fuck. And every day you stay silent just confirms her fears."
Something dangerous flashes in Erik's eyes. "You presume much."
"No, I observe while you wallow." I glance at Bryn, catching her eyes darting to Erik despite her conversation with Dani. "She's watching you right now, wondering why the man she's drawn to won't even acknowledge her existence. Meanwhile, you're here drinking yourself stupid and pretending it's noble suffering."
"Enough." Erik's voice drops to a lethal whisper.
"Not even close to enough. You want to know what that Viking bastard said about her yesterday? Called her a 'broken bird' when he thought no one could hear. Said she's 'still useful in the bed, despite everything.' Like she needs his fucking pity."
The table splinters under Erik's grip, his careful control finally shattering. "He saidwhat?"
I lean back, watching the predator finally wake in my brother's eyes. "Oh, now you want to do something about it?"
Erik's fingers uncurl from the splintered wood with deliberate slowness. His face smooths back into that practiced mask of indifference, but I catch the slight tremor in his jaw.
"Your attempt at manipulation is noted, brother," he says, voice arctic cold. "But Bryn'schoices are her own."
"For fuck's sake," I growl. "You and your selfless sacrifice routine is getting real old. You think you're protecting her? All you're doing is proving every doubt she has about herself."
"And you believe forcing a mate bond would solve this?" His silver eyes narrow. "Perhaps I should follow your example—throw her over my shoulder and demand submission?"
"At least I'm not watching my mate settle for less while pretending it doesn't gut me." I catch Bryn's reflection in my cup, the way her wing droops when Erik won't meet her gaze. "You think I don't see how she flinches every time that Viking touches her? How she checks your reaction? Pathetic doesn't begin to cover this situation."
