I make my way back in the kitchen, trying to figure out how the fuck I’m supposed to fix this.
Except, I don’t know how. Jasper’s not wrong. Dredyn should have told us—should have trusted us months ago when he finally found out the truth about his father. Or even years ago when he overheard his father talking. Jasper is truly hurt by Dredyn, and I am too, in a way.
But Dredyn’s not wrong either. He was protecting us the only way he knows how—by keeping up in the dark until he could guarantee a plan where we wouldn’t all end up dead. The Syndicate doesn’t fuck around, and Dredyn’s been playing the long game.
They’re both right, they’re both justified, and they’re both tearing each other apart.
I grab a glass from the cabinet, fill it with water I don’t want, and down it like it might help. It doesn’t. Nothing helps. My hands are shaking.
The glass slips.
I don’t mean to drop it. Don’t mean for it to shatter against the edge of the sink, sending shards scattering across the counter. My hand shoots out on instinct to catch it, and pain flares bright and immediate across my palm.
I stare down at the blood welling up between my fingers, dark red against pale skin, and feel... nothing. All I feel is numb, detached. Like I’m watching it happen to someone else.
“Talon?”
Mara’s voice cuts through the fog, and I blink, focusing on her as she appears in the doorway. Her eyes go wide when she sees my hand.
“Shit, what did you do?” She’s across the kitchen in seconds, reaching for my wrist.
“Dropped a glass.” My voice sounds distant even to my own ears. “I’m fine.”
“You’re bleeding.”
“Yeah. I noticed.”
She pulls me toward the sink, running cold water over my hand despite my half-hearted protest. The sting brings me back to myself, sharpening the edges of reality until I can’t hide behind the numbness anymore.
“Talon, what’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just clumsy.”
“Bullshit.” She turns off the water, grabs a clean towel, and presses it against my palm with more care than I probably deserve. “You’re the least clumsy person I know. Talk to me.”
I laugh, but it comes out bitter. “What’s there to talk about? My two best friends are ripping each other apart and I don’t know how to stop it.”
“So you decided to break glass?”
“Didn’t mean to.” I try to pull my hand back, but she holds on. “I just... I don’t know what to do, Mara. This is what I do—I fix things. I make people laugh, smooth things over, keep everyone from killing each other. But this? I can’t... I don’t know how to fix this.”
“Maybe you can’t.”
“That’s not helpful.”
“Maybe it’s not about fixing it. Maybe it’s about letting them work through it.”
“And if they don’t? If they can’t get past this? If Dredyn leaves or Jasper shuts down completely or... We’re supposed to be a team. We’re supposed to be brothers, and I’m just... standing here, useless.”
Mara’s quiet for a long moment, still holding my hand. Then she guides me to the kitchen table, sits me down, and pulls out the first aid kit from under the sink. She doesn’t answer right away, just cleans the wound with steady hands, applies antiseptic that stings like hell, and starts wrapping gauze around my palm with practiced efficiency.
“When I first met you, on that balcony at the party, I was drowning. Chase had just... I felt powerless, like I had no control over anything in my life. And then you were there, and you kissed me, and you agreed to be my fake boyfriend without hesitation. You gave me back a piece of control I thought I’d lost.”
“Mara—”
“Let me finish.” She secures the gauze with tape, then looks up at me. “You think you’re just the light one, the easy one. But you’re wrong. You’re the one who holds us together. Notdespiteyour lightness, but because of it.”
I want to argue, but the words stick in my throat.
