“What’s wrong?” Jax asks Desi.
She smiles. “Mind your own business. It’s twin stuff.”
Jax looks at me, and I shrug. “I’ll see you at the altar. Don’t forget the rings.”
Jax rolls his eyes as he leaves, tilting the open bottle to his lips as he goes.
“I have something for you,” Desi says.
“A wedding present?”
She shakes her head. “It’s from Mom. She thought you wouldn’t accept it if it came from her.”
I notice the white envelope in her hand for the first time. “What is it?”
“You tell me.”
I take the envelope. There’s no name or return address. Mom could have told me whatever it says herself. Using my finger, I break the seal. Inside is a piece of white paper folded in half.
With my heart in my throat, I unfold it. The handwriting—sharp letters with little spacing between words—is my dad’s. What the hell does he want?
I’m tempted to crumple the letter and pretend it never existed, but curiosity betrays me.
Dear Wilder,
If you’re reading this, it means you didn’t crumple this letter the moment you realized who it was from. I’ll admit, I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had. After everything, maybe that’s what I deserve. I know I wasn’t the father you needed. For too long, I let my expectations and worries get in the way of simply loving you.
I wanted nothing more than for you and your sister to succeed and thrive. However, I’ve realized that my way of showing support ultimately pushed you away. I should have been honest with you, and I should have listened when you spoke.
But it always felt easier to tell you no. For you, “no” meant a dead end—a final answer. I realize now how many times I shut you out that way. And I’m sorry.
In my effort to keep you safe, I ended up making deals with the wrong people. The Magician blackmailed me into killing the president. Still, I have to smile because I get to look him in the eye at breakfast, knowing that my son married his niece—not just married her but helped her become queen. You achieved Prince Gwyn Raelyn’s dream of changing the world with truth and courage. You revealed the letters, changed the laws, and both of you stood up to centuries of tradition.
Your mom mentioned that you quit being a Blade and stepped down as commander. I commend you for that decision; I know I couldn’t balance being a good husband and a leader. We are more alike than you might want to admit.
I bet Leigh looked stunning in her wedding dress. I hope your mom brings me pictures on her next visit—unless you want to show them to me yourself.
Proud of you,
Dad
I glare at the letter, ignoring the sting in my eyes. Dad won’t get the satisfaction of claiming we are alike. I left my position as a commander to avoid becoming like him—more focused on work than my family. Now he’s twisting the story, suggesting that we are the samebecauseI quit.
Well, screw that.
Dad has never told me he was proud of me in my life. Not when I graduated from the Blade Academy, not when I accepted a position in Aurora, not when I helped save the Council and hundreds of innocent lives from Nyx’s bomb several years ago, and not even when I returned to Borealis after the wolves’ failed coup. Of course, he would wait until now, when I am happiest, to worm his way back into my thoughts.
“Selfish bastard,” I mutter to myself.
I hate him. I hate that he controls my emotions so much. I hate that Dad should be the one escorting my mom down the aisle to her seat today. I hate that he would have loved to see howpretty my edgy sister looks in her pink bridesmaid dress. But that’s where I come in; I get to pick up the pieces where he fell short.
I inhale deeply, stifling the sob threatening to escape.
“What does it say?” Desi asks.
“Dad thinks we are alike.”
Desi reaches for the letter. “Show me.”
