“Riley,” I said, stepping closer. “Please. Look at me.”
She didn’t move.
“Ky.”
Thessa’s voice was firm, a warning that brooked no argument.
She rose from Riley’s bedside and crossed to me, positioning herself between me and my mate. My pregnant mate. The thought sent another surge of primal joy through my wolf, immediately crushed by the reality of the situation.
My wolf wanted to shove past Thessa. Wanted to gather Riley in our arms and never let go, explain everything, right now, this second.
But Thessa had that look in her eyes. The one that said she would fight me if she had to.
“Please,” Thessa said quietly, so only I could hear. “Just let her be. She needs calm. She needs to process things.”
“I need to explain...”
“I know. But not right now. Look at her.”
I did. Riley was curled on the bed, one hand pressed to her stomach, our child, her face turned toward the wall. She was trembling. Whether from the pregnancy shock or the emotional trauma, I couldn’t tell.
Probably both.
It was torturing me that Thessa was right. Sisters were always right at the worst possible moments.
Every fiber of my being screamed to go to Riley, to hold her, to explain everything until she understood. But forcing myself on her right now would only make things worse. I could feel it through the bond: her need for space, her inability to handle my presence.
I was causing her pain just by being in the room. The realization nearly brought me to my knees.
“Just let me tell her...” I raised my voice, speaking past Thessa. “Riley. I know what it sounded like. It’s not what you think. Please.” My voice cracked and broke. I didn’t care. “You know me.”
She didn’t answer. The silence stretched on, the longest silence of my entire life, and then so quiet I almost missed it:
“I’m not sure anymore.”
Five words that eviscerated me more thoroughly than any blade ever could.
She still wouldn’t look at me. She was giving me her back, curled away, shutting me out completely. The bond between us felt wrong, stretched, painful, and I could feel her trying to close it off, trying to block me out.
I deserved it. I didn’t deserve it. I hadn’t done anything wrong, but she didn’t know that.
“Riley...”
“Leave.” Thessa’s voice was firm now. Commanding in a way that reminded me she was a princess too. A princess who would protect her future sister-in-law even from her own brother. “I’ll stay with her. I’ll make sure she’s okay. But you need to go.”
“I can’t just...”
“You can. And you will.” Thessa’s expression softened, just slightly. “Fix whatever happened. Figure out what Vix did. And then, when you have answers, real answers, come back.”
I wanted to argue, fight. Wanted to plant myself at Riley’s bedside and refuse to move until she believed me. But the bond pulsed with her distress. Her overwhelming, desperate need for me to not be here right now. Every second I stayed was another second of pain for her.
I cursed. The word was filthy. I didn’t care.
And I left.
The hallway outside the healer’s quarters was empty. Torches lined the walls, their light unforgiving. The stone seemed to mock me. This was my castle, my home, and I felt out of place in it.
My fist connected with the stone wall before I even realized I was moving. Pain exploded through my knuckles, but I barely felt it. I punched again. And again. Until my skin split and blood streaked the gray stone. Until the physical pain matched even a fraction of what was happening inside my chest.
