I go. Not because I want to. Because every cell in my body is telling me that if I don't, something worse will happen.
Eli starts to climb in after me. Ragon stops him with a look.
"No. Not with her."
Eli's scent spikes with protest. "She—"
"No," Ragon repeats, alpha-weighted.
Eli's jaw tightens. He steps back.
Jasper watches the exchange, silent.
Marie slides into the middle row. Drake follows, instinctively closer to her. When he realizes it, his face twists, but he doesn't move.
The drive home is quiet.
Too quiet.
No ambient nonsense this time. No jokes. No hand on my knee. Just the sound of tires on asphalt and my own breathing trying not to turn into sobs.
Every time we hit a bump, my shoulder knocks the window. I flinch and hate myself for flinching.
Jasper doesn't turn around. But I can feel his attention, tracing invisible lines.
Vee shrinking from Ragon.
Vee leaning toward where Eli would be if he'd been allowed.
Drake angled toward Marie.
Marie leaning into him.
Everything is data.
Everything is a crack.
The punishment doesn't happen right away.
That would be kinder.
We get home. Shoes off. Coats on hooks. The motions are so normal they feel obscene.
"Marie," Ragon says, voice soft in a way that makes me want to tear something apart. "Bathroom. Clean that scratch. Eli, go with her."
She nods and scurries down the hall. Eli hesitates, then follows.
"Drake. Kitchen. Sit."
Drake blinks. "What am I, a dog?"
"Now."
Drake obeys, scent jangling.
That leaves me in the living room with Ragon and Jasper.
My throat is dry.
