Her flinch was immediate, a recoil as if the words themselves struck. “No.”
“He hunted omegas,” I said, and my voice sharpened despite my control because the memories sharpened it for me. Friends taken. Families destroyed. Packs broken apart until the land itself quieted. “He took them, stole them, forced bonds that stripped them of choice. He executed dissenters in the square to make the rest of us watch. He built prisons for alphas who wouldn’t kneel. There are no more omegas because of him. Our world is dying. Because of your father.”
My wrist mark burned under the bracer, and the tower seemed to notice, the hum rising slightly beneath our feet.
Aveline’s eyes flicked to my wrist, then snapped away as if the sight hurt. “He would never do that,” she whispered. “He protects us. Me. He says the world is dangerous.”
“You. He said he was protecting you. From yourself. That’s different.”
Something shifted in her face. Not collapse—the opposite. A tightening, as if she were holding something together by force of will.
“He said the world was dangerous,” she said.
“It is.” I kept my gaze on her. “He made it that way.”
Her breath hitched. Her chin came up. “Then you’re no better than he is.”
The words resonated deeply.
Thane shifted between us, his body turning to block my line to her as if he could physically stop the damage my mouth was doing. “Malric,” he warned softly.
I stared at Thane’s back, at the set of his shoulders, at the way his magic bristled even as he tried to keep it contained. Protective. Defiant. Loyal to her in a way that he had once been loyal to me.
The feeling that rose in me wasn’t simple anger. It was possessive. It was sharp. It was the instinct of a dominant alpha who suddenly found his second placing himself elsewhere.
I stepped closer, forcing my voice lower, colder. “You choose her over me? Over your bonded?”
Thane was saved from responding when Aveline gave a frustrated sound. We both turned to see her hands fisted at her gown.
“Get out,” she said, voice shaking. “Leave. Now. Before he comes.”
“That isn’t an option,” I replied. “The tower won’t let us leave.”
Thane’s head turned just enough that I glimpsed his eyes, warning and heat. He’d chosen her side in this moment. He’d do it again.
And the tower hummed under us as if it approved.
Aveline’s gaze slid past Thane, meeting mine again. “You can’t just decide to kill him. You can’t?—”
“Your father killed thousands.” The words came harsher than I intended, sharpened by years of blood and loss. “He did it slowly. Publicly. With pleasure.”
Aveline’s face crumpled, not into tears, but into a tight, brittle expression that looked like something splitting inside her. Her scent surged again, sweet and panicked, and my body responded with an answering pull that made my skin feel too tight.
Thane moved decisively.
He reached back, caught the edge of the door, and stepped into her bedchamber, guiding her backward with his body and his voice low and urgent. “Aveline, look at me. Breathe. You’re safe right now.”
She stumbled a half-step, gaze darting, then snagged on his face as if it were the only solid thing in the room.
Thane didn’t look at me as he pushed the door inward.
“Thane,” I said, warning cutting through my control.
His eyes flashed once, then he shut the door between us.
Stone clicked softly as it sealed.
I stood in the corridor outside her chamber, staring at the closed door, the tower humming beneath my boots, her scent still seeping through the cracks as if it had no respect for barriers.
