“Cillian,” Logan calls as I reach the door. I pause but don’t turn, afraid of what I might see in his face—or worse, what he might see in mine. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For trying,” he says simply. “Even when I don’t deserve it.”
I nod once, not trusting my voice, and slip out into the hallway. Only when the door closes behind me do I allow myself to lean against the wall, pulse racing as I try to make sense of what just happened.
Of what I feel.
Sex with Logan is easy to understand—physical need, primal connection, biological compatibility. But a kiss that makes my chest ache? Tenderness where I expected possession? These I have no framework for, no defenses against.
And that terrifies me far more than any Alpha’s rage ever could.
CHAPTER 29
Maya
I hear the raised voices before I even reach the door. Logan’s deep timbre, sharp with anger, cuts through the heavy oak like it’s paper. Ares’s rumbling bass follows, the words indistinct but the defensive tone unmistakable. I pause, my hand hovering over the doorknob. The last thing I want is to walk into the middle of an Alpha confrontation, especially when I’m already exhausted from another night of fitful sleep plagued by memories of Thane’s laboratory.
Cillian appears at my side, materializing from the shadows of the corridor with his usual silent grace. His pale eyes meet mine, a question in them I can’t quite interpret.
“Logan and Ares,” I explain unnecessarily. “Sounds like they’re about to tear each other’s throats out.”
“Again,” Cillian sighs, his expression resigned. “We should intervene before the Queen Mother’s priceless antiques become casualties.”
I nod, squaring my shoulders as Cillian pushes open the door. The argument hits us like a physical wave, the tension in the room so thick it feels like walking through syrup.
“—don’t care what excuse you’ve concocted!” Logan is saying, his golden eyes blazing as he paces the length of the ornate sitting room. “Poe is gone, and you knew about it. You helped him leave!”
Ares stands with his back to the fireplace, his massive frame coiled with tension. “I didn’t help him do anything,” he growls, hands flexing at his sides like he’s fighting the urge to form fists. “And I sure as hell didn’t know he was planning to?—“
He breaks off as he notices our entrance, his green eyes flicking to me with something that might be relief. Logan follows his gaze, his expression shifting from rage to something more controlled when he sees us.
“What’s happened?” Cillian asks, moving further into the room with the careful precision of someone approaching a wounded animal. “Where’s Poe?”
Logan’s jaw works, the muscle jumping beneath his skin. “Gone,” he says finally, the single word loaded with betrayal. “He left with the Queen Mother’s security chief in the middle of the night. To attack one of the fertility clinics.”
The news hits me like a bucket of ice water. “What?” I breathe, trying to process what I’m hearing. “Poe left to…to destroy a clinic? Without telling anyone?”
“It appears that way,” Logan confirms, his voice deadly quiet.
I glance at Ares, whose expression has gone carefully blank. “And you knew nothing about this?” Ares meets my gaze steadily. “I knew Poe had been meeting with Dani—the security chief,” he clarifies for my benefit. “I didn’t know they were planning an assault on a clinic. If I had...” He trails off, the implication clear. He would have stopped it. Or at least tried to.
“It doesn’t matter now,” Logan says, running a hand through his hair in a rare gesture of agitation. “What matters is that Poe and Dani were captured by guardians at the Westhollow cliniclast night. They’re being held for questioning, and it’s only a matter of time before they’re identified.”
My stomach drops. “Captured?” I repeat, horror washing through me. “By the king’s guardians?”
Logan nods grimly. “The Queen Mother received word this morning. Her sources inside the palace say the guardians don’t yet know who they’ve captured—Poe and Dani were in disguise, carrying false identification. But once they’re brought before the king…”
He doesn’t need to finish the thought. We all know what happens to prisoners who face Thane’s interrogation. The memory of cold metal against my skin, of clinical precision as he cataloged my reactions to pain, rises unbidden. I push it down, focusing on the immediate crisis.
“We have to help them,” I say, the words escaping before I can consider their implications. “We can’t just leave them to be executed.”
“And how exactly do you propose we do that?” Logan demands, his frustration clearly redirecting toward me. “Storm the palace? Break into the dungeons? Start a war we’re not prepared to fight?”
“We can’t abandon them either,” I counter, refusing to back down despite the anger radiating from him. “Poe is pack. He and Dani are dead if we leave them where they are.”
“After they went behind my back,” Logan snaps. “Undermining my authority. Risking everything we’ve worked for on a half-baked rescue mission that was doomed from the start.”
