Page 102 of Pistols & Peonies

I push to my feet, collecting both our empty glasses from the coffee table and heading back toward the bar cart. The quiet clink of glass fills the room while I uncap the whiskey decanter and pour another round, the amber liquid catching the light as it rises in each glass.

“You think I don’t know who my brother really is?” I ask quietly, my back still turned to her as I recap the decanter.

The question hangs in the air between us as I pick up both glasses and turn back around. When our eyes meet, hers are wide, tinged with fear.

I take a slow sip of the whiskey as I walk back over to the couch and settle beside her again, a little closer than before. “We all play our parts,” I sigh, handing her the glass before lifting my own to my lips again. “Some better than others.”

Violet just stares at me, the color draining from her face. “You… why… how…?” The words fall out in fragments, like her brain can’t quite catch up with the conversation.

I reach over and rest my hand on her thigh, the tension in her muscles easing almost immediately beneath my palm. “I really didn’t want this to happen,” I admit quietly before finishing the rest of my whiskey and scrubbing my other hand over my face.

She recoils slightly at that, her expression tightening like I’ve just confirmed her worst fear.

I give her thigh a reassuring squeeze. “I’d never want to put you in danger,” I tell her. “But just knowing what you do now puts you in a… complicated position.”

She blinks at me, still struggling to process everything. “How long have you known your brother was–” The word catches in her throat. She swallows hard before forcing it out, voice barely a whisper. “Rogue.”

The name lands between us like a stone dropped in still water.

“Long enough.”

The air rushes out of her as she sinks back into the couch cushions. “Are you going to turn him in?” she asks, voice strained.

“No.” I recline back, studying her face. “Why do you think it’s so important for me to stay in this position? I filter everything before it ever reaches Alpha.”

She takes a moment to process that, her fingers drumming restlessly against her thigh. “So what are you, then?” she asks. “A spy? A double agent?”

“I’m the Commander. My job is to maintain order and keep people alive. Sometimes that means playing both sides of the board.”

She shakes her head slowly, dark hair slipping forward to curtain part of her face. “Jesus.”

I shift closer on the couch, my thigh brushing hers. “You think I like this?” I murmur. “You think I enjoy walking a tightrope every day, knowing one bad step could put a knife in my back?”

She’s staring at me like she’s seeing a stranger, and I can’t blame her. Some days I barely recognize the man staring back at me in the mirror.

She swallows hard before asking the question I knew was coming.

“So where do your loyalties really lie, Kane?”

It’s the one thing I hoped she wouldn’t ask, and also the only question that actually matters.

"With you," I reply firmly. “And with Whit.” I reach for her hand, catching her restless fingers and stilling them in my palm. “And with the pack. As it should be.”

She’s trembling now, just a little. “Are you with the rebels or against them?”

“I’m with change. This pack needs it more than anyone wants to admit.”

A bitter laugh escapes her. “That’s resistance propaganda if I’ve ever heard it. You sound just like Rogue.”

“Maybe he got it from me.” I squeeze her hand, hoping it grounds her. “Alpha Gage used to be a good man. I believed in him when I joined pack enforcement. I spent years trying to nudge things in the right direction from the inside.” I pause, shaking my head. “But he wouldn’t budge. The veil started to lift, and I saw things for what they really were. The bad decisions, the senseless casualties. My parents included. And as time passed, there were only more rules, more violence, less freedom. Whit saw it sooner than I did. He was right to start pushing back.” I blow out a slow breath. “I just wish I could do more to help him.”

She pulls her hand free, curling inward like she’s trying to protect something fragile inside her chest. “So all this time, you’ve been working both sides.”

“I’ve been trying to keep people from getting killed,” I snap, frustration bleeding through. “If Whit does this alone, it ends in a bloodbath. But if I’m here…” I gesture to indicate the Tower around us. “I can control the variables. I can slow things down. Give Whit time to build something real instead of watching the whole pack tear itself apart.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks, voice breaking.

“Because it’s safer for you not to know.” I drag a hand down my face, exhaustion settling into my bones all at once. “Just knowing puts you in danger, Violet. The last thing I wanted was for you to get caught up in this.”