“He wants to know what or who he would’ve become without you. You’re refusing to give him that satisfaction because you don’t forgive him for what he did. You—”
“What I did? What the hell did I do that he can’t forgive me for?” Creed asks.
Amick turns, facing all of us as he links his hands behind his back.
“Shut the fuck up, Amick,” Riven warns.
“I don’t believe I will. He doesn’t forgive you for killing his pet. You killed the one thing he loved, and the only thing he believed loved him in return.”
“You stupid motherfucker.”
Creed and I latch onto Riven’s arms, holding him back as he tries to charge Amick.
Amick’s ass raises a fucking daring brow.
Valories, get us the hell out of here.
“Get off of me.”
Riven slings the two of us off and places his hands on his hips as his chest heaves. He glares daggers at Amick, who doesn’t budge at all.
“That Spyvie you used to take care of,” Creed whispers. “You don’t forgive me for killing him.”
“Should I? He was an innocent fucking creature.”
“I didn’t know any better! I did what you told Father you were going to do. I didn’t know how much you cared.”
“Of course you didn’t. You didn’t give a fuck about anyone but yourself and the praise you got fromDaddy dearest. I lied and disobeyed what he told me to do, and you just stomped your high and mighty ass up and took care of it. You’ve never once fucking apologized.”
Creed rears back like Riven really did hit him. Shame, guilt, realization, a damn multitude of things race across his face as if he’s trying to sift through his memories to confirm if that’s true.
“Let’s take a breath. Being stuck in—”
“No. You know what, fuck no. I don’t want to hear your mediating taurnshit, Kyzen. You always do this. Always step in. Placate. Calm the tension before you get all stabby-happy.”
A chill runs down my spine as Riven’s words sink into my blood. I know he’s lashing out from a place of anger. We all are. We have been for hours now, but that isn’t fair. I haven’t thrown shit in anyone’s face.
“What other choice have I ever been given, Riven?”
He tears his gaze away from my calm tone and blank stare.
“Which one of the three of you was going to step up and stay the glue that held us together? Made sure none of us gave in to our father’s wishes?”
Creed and Amick won’t meet my eyes either.
“That’s what I thought. So can we please take a fucking brea—”
“Knock, knock.”
My head hangs and I pinch the bridge of my nose as our mother’s voice echoes around the room.
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Aww, look at my boys all together and wearing the clothes I made them,” she coos, ushering in another group of Attendants carrying trays. She doesn’t miss the loud-ass rumble my stomach lets out. “Good, you’re finally hungry. I knew meal six was going to be the one.”
With a flick of her wrist, a table and five chairs appear in the living room. She parks her ass right at the head of the table and motions for us to come on.
A deep huff flows through my nostrils as I stomp over there and pull out the chair beside her. I know if this isn’t the seat I choose, the other three aren’t going to sit.
