Page 100

Vae nods. “When your comms cut out, we raced to Varenthrall’s. We heard—well, Dax heard—everything that happened before that.”

“Heard a few interesting things,” Dax murmurs. This, too, is strategic. He’s planting seeds, already making his case for how he’s treated her, just in case.

Vae shoots Dax a worried look. He licks his lips nervously. I can feel his fear and anxiety pulsing off of him in waves. He’s not nearly as confident as Dax seems to be that Idril’s guilty.

I file away the observation.

“When we got there, everyone was gone. The place was a wreck. It was covered in blood. And the smell… fuck. Gav and Silas searched the upper level, and Dax and I went to the basement. Thank the Fates… that’s where we found you, hooked up to a fucking IV. It was⁠—”

He chokes off with a strangled sound. His face drains of color. A hand lands on top of my leg, and his eyes fill with tears.

“I thought you were dead,” he whispers, voice shaking. “I thought… I thought...”

A tear escapes, and he angrily swipes it away. My stomach drops.

Act normal.

The desire to comfort my Packmate is instinctive. This is Vaelenor. My brother. One of only two males who have been by my side—who I’ve trusted implicitly—for centuries.

Until I trusted them with the most precious thing in our lives. Until I trusted them with our Fated fucking Mate.

“Anyways,” he clears his throat awkwardly. “We brought you back here, and we’ve just been waiting for you to wake up.”

He turns to Daxen.

And something about the movement—the way he does it so naturally— rearranges and reforms in my mind, sharpening into focus and emerging into a picture that’s suddenly so fucking clear.

How have I never noticed how often Vae turns to Daxen—and me—for answers?

With sudden clarity, I know exactly how the last two weeks have played out. Vae, afraid of making the wrong decision, turns to Daxen for answers. Blindly following his lead. Hour after hour, day after day. Of course, Daxen’s answers—fueled by anger, misplaced loyalty, and if I had to guess, a metric fuck-ton of bullshit masquerading as justification—turned into an endless loop. Cruelty and abuse, powered by Vae’s crippling need for Daxen’s obsession with control.

And the only one who suffered was my Mate—for having the audacity to exist inside of their fucked up, codependent world.

Dax clears his throat. Picks an invisible piece of lint from his slacks. When his eyes lift to meet mine, I see it—the anxiety he’s failing to hide.

He’s afraid.

He fucking should be.

“Well?” I push, lifting an expectant brow.

“Well… what?”

The way Daxen feigns confusion almost sends me over the edge.

“Did you find the Omega or not?”

I refer to her by her Designation on purpose, even though the implied disrespect makes my fucking soul recoil. But I can’t use her name. If I do, he’ll know how I really feel in an instant.

Vae stays silent, more than happy for Dax to take the lead.

That tracks.

“The Omega,” he draws out the word, studying me like if he just looks hard enough, he can see into my brain.

I roll my eyes good-naturedly, pretending I’m simply annoyed with his lead-up.

He relaxes.