Violet’s voice echoes in my mind. That conversation in Miami. The way she pressed me on the hybrid issue, gently but persistently.
“What if you found one and realized they weren’t violent? Would you still kill them?”
I dismissed her concerns. Told her some creatures shouldn’t be allowed to exist. But looking at this girl’s face, at the evidence of what happened here…
The pieces don’t fit.
Why would my father leave this house out of his documentation? He described every other location. But not this one. Not the mediator’s house where the violence seems to have started.
And Zion’s story. The meeting that no one else witnessed. With a man who we now know was murdered in his own home, in his daughter’s room.
My chest tightens. I don’t want to think what I’m thinking. What really happened here eleven years ago?
Unease ripples through me. I accepted the story I was told without question. Perhaps I should have questioned it. Perhaps Violet was right to push back when I dismissed her concerns so easily.
I pull out my phone and stare at the dark screen. Still nothing from Ethan. Nothing from anyone. Violet is out there somewhere, and I’mhere digging up secrets that may destroy everything I thought I knew about my family.
She would want me to find the truth. Even if it hurts. Even if it changes everything.
That’s who she is. That’s why the fates chose her for me.
I slip the photograph into my jacket pocket. This girl deserves to have her story told. Her father deserves justice. And if my family played a role in burying that truth, then I need to know. No matter what it costs me.
One way or another, the truth is coming out.
And when it does, I’ll know if everything I believed was built on a solid foundation or if there are cracks I never bothered to look for.
Around me, the settlement stretches in all directions. A graveyard of hybrid lives that ended violently.
The answers are here somewhere, buried under eleven years of silence and, quite possibly, carefully constructed lies.
I’m not sure I’m ready to find them.
I’ve spentthese two days here at the site going over my father’s file on the massacre. Every detail now being uncovered is contradicting what his notes say. At this point, I don’t even know why I’m bothering to look at them.
It was all a lie.
Anger and exhaustion burn through me. No wonder my father never let the other packs investigate. He was afraid his web of lies would be uncovered. The details that have emerged paint a picture so gruesome and selfish that I find myself escaping here, behind a house where no one can see me.
I sink to the ground, leaning back against what used to be someone’s home. I need a minute to myself, a minute to pull myself together, to come to terms with what my family did.
Monsters. We’re all monsters.
I pull out my phone and stare at Violet’s number, myheart tightening. I’ve never once sought refuge in another person, but today, I want to hide in my mate’s arms and find some comfort there. I know she won’t pick up, but I can’t seem to stop myself from trying.
The sun bleeds orange and red across the horizon, and I’m so tired I can barely think straight. She doesn’t answer my call. I press the phone to my ear and leave her a voicemail.
“Violet.” My voice comes out rough, broken. “I really need you right now.” I take a deep breath, squeezing my eyes shut. “I know you’re angry with me, but I’m losing myself, and I need you here. I need you by my side.” My breathing is ragged, the words spilling out before I can stop them. “We’ll go away together. We’ll do whatever you want. Just come back to me. I can’t survive without you. I can’t survive this without you.”
I end the message and let my hand drop to my side. The phone feels heavy in my palm. Everything feels heavy.
“Darius!”
Someone is calling my name. I push myself to my feet, reaching for the window frame behind me for support. The wood groans.
Then, it gives way completely.
I fall backward, the frame collapsing inward with me. I hit the ground hard, broken picture frames scattering beneath me. Glass shatters everywhere.
