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“Even after that, the King’s council wanted me to kill Whitaker,” I explain. “Saul, Lionel, and Daniel.”

“Jesus Christ,” Remy runs his hands through his hair. “Fucking bastards.”

“They were willing to back me as King and keep my identity a secret if I was willing to finish the job: eliminate Whitaker. Pretend none of this had ever happened. My only support came from an unlikely ally. Rufus had just lost his son. He wouldn’t entertain the thought of killing a creation.”

Remy stares at me, stunned, the full horror of it sinking in. I’d doomed Whitaker to a different sort of hell. I know that now.

“What about Mom?”

“I wasn’t going to notify the police. They had no idea about any of it, but if they did, she would be locked up in a place much worse than a private sanitarium. I had no choice but to have her committed. Not with the risk she posed to you, Whitaker, and frankly, herself.”

Across from me, Remy reaches for his full glass of whiskey and lifts it, tipping it back and swallowing it all in one gulp.

“Son,” I start, “I kept this from you because no one needs to know their mother is capable of–”

“Shut up,” he cuts me off, rubbing his face with both hands. “Jesus Fucking Christ, just give me a minute.”

I sit back, allowing him to process everything I just told him, waiting for the next explosion, the next rage, and the possible downward spiral that he’s plummeted down before. None of those things happen. Remy is quiet, the silence stretching between us, thick and suffocating. Remy stares at me like he’s seeing a stranger.

“All these years,” he finally says, voice low and shaking with barely contained fury, “you let me think she just had problems like me. That you locked her away because you couldn’t handle that. But it was more than that. She tried to kill my brother. And you—” He cuts himself off, breathing hard. “You killed your own cousin. You stole a throne in blood. And then you buried the truth so deep even I couldn’t find it.”

I don’t flinch. I’ve carried this weight a long time. “Yes.”

He stands abruptly. “I don’t know what the fuck to do with this.”

“It’s a lot,” I say quietly, “and I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

I’ve seen my son in pain. When he lost his mother the first time, and later when Tate was taken from him. I’ve seen him angry enough that if he’d had a chance, he would’ve killed me. I’ve also seen him grow. Mature. Take responsibility for his life and the people he cares for.

I realize I should rip off the final bandage and stop giving half-truths and stop protecting him from the ugliest parts of our history. I should, but I don’t. Remy may be ready, but I’m not sure I am.

19

Hunter

“Where do you want this?”

Slade has the broken pieces of an old pew in his hands, the wood splintered and warped with age.

A quick look tells me this isn’t anything we can reuse. “Out to the dumpster.”

“You got it.”

Jace follows him with a stack of old newspapers that look like they’d been a nest for something at one point, dust puffing off them with every step.

“It’s coming along,” Carson says, handing me my water bottle. His shirt is streaked with grime, and there’s a smudge of dirt across his cheek that makes him look like he’s been in a fight rather than cleaning. “Once everything’s out, it’ll be a pretty good space.”

I take a long drink, the cold water cutting through the thick dust coating my throat. We’ve been at this for days now, turning this forgotten outbuilding into something usable again. There are a lot of little buildings owned by the House of Night–the chapel, the main dormitory, the cottage where Arianette and Timothy spent their wedding night. But this old outbuilding, once used by church staff for storage, has sat untouched for years. When I asked Graves if I could take charge of clearing it out, he looked at me like I’d grown a second head.

“You’re offering to clean up the property?” he’d asked, eyebrows raised. “Without being told to?”

I’d just nodded, hoping he wouldn’t press for reasons.

“And you’ve got some of the guys to help you?” That came out even more incredulous.

“Yeah, a few.”

“Go for it, kid. Just don’t make a mess. Anything you need to order, pass it along to my office, and I’ll approve it.”