“I can’t. Just… be careful.”
“Fuck you,” I snap, sweeping past him in a rage.
As I storm away from Stark’s rooms, Anassa’s thoughts brush cautiously against my own. The touch of her mind is wordless, almost tentative. As though she senses how close to the edge I am—how near to explosive violence.
“What are you going to do?”she asks.
“Oh, now you want to talk?”I snarl.“Well, too bad. Should have thought about that before keeping secrets, Anassa.”
With that, I slam the iron wall in place between us.
I can’t trust Anassa. That much is abundantly clear. What else might she be keeping from me? She’s given me only what she wants me to know the entire four months that we’ve been bonded. She hasn’t even given me a hint about who her mate is, for example. That should have been a warning sign.
Her betrayal stings like frostbite. And Stark…
I flash back on our trip to the front again. The moments he showed concern for me. The desire in his eyes when he licked me.
That bastard has been playing games with my head all along, hasn’t he?
Fuck it. Fuck them both.
Whatever is going on here—however it’s linked to my mother’s visions—I’mgoingto get to the bottom of it.
With or without their help.
CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
The Unity Trial is in three days, and I need to be sharp. But instead of training with my packmates to make sure my skills are as honed as possible, I’m sitting in my room pouring over an ancient book about queens and magic and history.
There’s a burning in me, like I need to figure this out. It’s a pull. An instinct. And if Stark and Anassa are going to continue their streak of uselessness, then it’s on me.
Briefly, I considered asking for Killian’s help. But what would he think of it, this book that offers a completely dissenting story to the narrative his family pushes? Would he want to look further into it, like I do? Or would he dismiss it out of hand?
Plus, Stark’s warning that I need to “be careful” with this book won’t leave my brain—even if he’s an asshole.
Thinking about him irritates me all over again. I’ve been blowing off Alpha training withthat assholesince we argued two days ago.
I’m about to dive back into the book when a knock sounds at my door.
Whipping into panicky action, I shove the book under my blanket. “Yeah?”
“It’s me.” Izabel.
Pulling the door open, I welcome her in.
She drags her fingers through her dark hair as she enters and watches me shut the door.
“Hey,” I say, a little awkwardly. I’ve barely seen her since I returned from the front, aside from my mother’s funeral, and the acquisition of this book hasn’t helped things.
Izabel bites her lip, then says, “I just wanted to check on you. See if you’ve been alright, holed up on your own in here.”
It’s a jab at my open wounds. When I’m training or thinking about this stupid book, it’s easier to pretend like nothing’s changed. But when she outright asks me how I’ve been, I’m back at the Garden of Eternal Rest, watching my mother’s body disappear into the ground.
Numbness and grief settle over me, but I tell her the truth. “I’m in pieces. I still can’t believe she’s gone. Is that weak of me to admit, as your Alpha?”
The mother I knew as a child disappeared years ago, but the recent improvement in her condition had given me a foolish kind of hope. Maybe things would finally get better. Maybe Saela would return to a lucid mother, fully capable of taking care of her.
It’s like a bruise that won’t heal and I’ve been doing everything in my power to avoid looking too closely at it.
