I hit the wall again. And again. Blood streaks the dented surface, but my anger only coils tighter, a serpent made of flame wrapped around my lungs.
“Darius.” Ethan’s hand lands on my shoulder, stopping me mid-swing. “I need you to breathe. Hurting yourself won’t help Violet.”
The sound of her name cuts through the red haze. I sag against the wall, my forehead pressed to the cool surface, trying to get control of myself.
“They tortured her, Ethan.” The words come out raw. “My father and Zion. They tortured her.”
My friend’s grip on my shoulder tightens. “I tried to find her, Darius. I questioned everyone in the pack who might have known something. Looked everywhere. But your father…” He trails off, and I hear the frustration in his voice when he finally continues. “He covered his tracks well.”
I push away from the wall, turning to face him. “It’s my fault.”
“Don’t do that.”
“But it is.” I can barely get the words out past the tightness in my throat. My hands are shaking again. I shove them into my pockets so he won’t see. “If I had just accepted her openly from the start. If I hadn’t been so caught up in politics and appearances and what everyone else thought, she wouldn’t have been vulnerable. If I hadn’t had such blind faith in my father…”
The word “father” tastes like ash in my mouth. I killed him. Broke his neck with my own hands. And the worst part? I’d do it again. I’d do it a thousand times for what he did to her.
“If I had marked her,” I continue, my voice hollow, “nobody would have dared touch her. Hybrid or not.”
Ethan is quiet for a long time. When he speaks, his voice is soft. “She withstood your father’s torture, Darius. She took a bullet for you. She’s not giving up now. She’s strong.”
“Strong enough to survive silver spreading throughher veins?” I drop onto one of the benches, my legs suddenly unable to hold me. “Strong enough to come back from everything they did to her? Even if her body heals, Ethan, the trauma…” My voice shakes. “I can’t take that away. I can’t undo what she went through.”
He takes a seat beside me, and we fall into silence. The fluorescent lights continue their irritating buzz. Somewhere down the hall, I can hear muffled voices, the beep of medical equipment. Normal sounds. But nothing feels normal.
I don’t know how much time passes before I hear new footsteps. Multiple sets. I’m on my feet before they round the corner, my body tensed for a fight.
Ryker appears first. He holds up both hands in a placating gesture. “I’m not the enemy, Darius. I just brought someone who needs to be here.”
Lillian steps out from behind him. Her eyes are red-rimmed and swollen, and her gaze darts around the waiting area, frantic and worried.
She looks like hell. Her clothes are hanging off her frame because she has lost significant weight. There are bruises on her arms, yellowing at the edges but still visible. Dark circles ring her eyes, so deep they look like bruises themselves. But it’s the look in her eyes that makes me hesitate. It’s wild. Desperate. The look of a mother who has already lost so much and is terrified of losing more.
“What are you doing here?” The question comes out harsh. Accusatory. I know I should probably show more restraint, more control, but I’m too raw right now for diplomacy. My father may have tortured this woman, kept her prisoner, but she left Violet behind.
“Where is she?” Her voice trembles. “Where’s my daughter?”
I take a menacing step toward her. “You’ve never been any kind of mother to her. You don’t get to show up now and—”
“You don’t know anything.” Ryker shoves me back, and I’m so surprised by the boldness of it that I actually stumble. “So, stop reacting and start listening for once in your life.”
Lillian isn’t looking at me anymore. She has moved on to Ethan,her expression pleading. “Will Violet be okay? Please, tell me she’ll live.” Her voice breaks as tears start streaming down her face.
Ethan’s face softens with sympathy. “I just got here myself. We don’t know anything yet. The healers are still working on her.”
Lillian’s hand comes up to cover her mouth. A broken sound escapes her; it’s raw and animalistic, the kind of sound that comes from deep in the soul. Abruptly, she turns to me again. The anger in her eyes is palpable.
“If my child dies,” she says, her voice low and shaking with barely controlled fury, “it’s on your hands, Darius. Your father and brother took everything from me. My mate. My son. And now, you”—she takes a step toward me—“you stand there covered in my daughter’s blood, and you have the audacity to ask what I’m doing here?”
“Enough.” Ryker’s voice is sharp like a whip, and Lillian looks at him incredulously.
“I lost most of my family to his.” She gestures at me, and there’s venom in the movement. “I’m not going to lose the rest of it. If she survives this, I’m taking Violet away from here.” She looks back at me threateningly. “Far away, where your pack can never touch her again.”
“She’s my mate!” The words explode out of me. My wolf surges forward, and I feel my eyes flash. “You’re not taking her anywhere!”
“She’s my daughter first!” Lillian’s voice rises to match mine. She’s shaking harder now, her whole body trembling with rage and grief.
“Yes, because you’ve treated her so well.” I sneer at her, all my anger and anguish finding a target.
