Page 136
“I’m being petty? Alvara sacrificed her fucking life for you, Alec—so you could know and love Winnie. So she could know her parents when this war is over. And I’m being petty?”
“You act like you’re alone in this. You’re not the only person in this room who lost someone that day, let alone in the months since.”
“I’m not,” August agreed, staggering back a step.
Freya’s hand shot around my wrist. I glanced down to find the color drained from her cheeks, her eyes wide and desperate as she watched the wreckage unfold.
“But I am the only one of you who has to feel them shatter my fucking mate every goddamn day. I feel them break her, Alec. I feel them sear the skin from her bones and shatter her hands, her legs.” His voice cracked. “I feel her joints dislocate. Every. Single. Fucking. Day.”
This time Alec’s voice went brittle beneath the weight of it. “I love her too, August.”
“Then fucking act like it.” August’s jaw looked liable to snap as he jerked his gaze back to Reyna. “If they had your son—if you could feel his terror and confusion, his agony and hopelessness any time you let down your shield—I can guaran-fucking-tee you’d be singing a very different tune.” He snapped his attention back to Alec, disgust crumpling his expression. “You don’t get to judge me when your mate is safe at home with your baby in her arms because Ally willed it so. Every single one of you was spared in her plan so that she might fall on the blade—the lamb to the slaughter—and you have the audacity to sit here and condemn my methods in my fight to get her back?”
Ringing, terrible silence.
“I have to side with Mr. Carter on this one, my friend.” Every head snapped toward Kingsley, agony in his eyes. “Ally didn’t trust him any more than I do.”
“And your bias blinds you,” August said matter-of-factly.
“He’s one of them,” Reyna repeated. “You do not see the wolf in sheep’s clothing as he stalks the flock beside you.”
August threw a hand in my direction. “Are you not all descendants from the same goddamn line?! And yet you fight and kill beside us. Defend the mortals despite sharing blood with the enemy.”
“He has a point,” I muttered, shifting my wrist until Freya’s hand slid into my palm. I squeezed. “A third of the hierarchies on this continent came from the same ancestral home.”
“Being a descendant of a once great clan is not the same as being the son of a conqueror who committed genocide,” Kingsley argued.
August shook his head, disgust written all over him. “Fuck you, Thornquist.” His glare landed on Alec, who held it—apologetic but unwavering. With one more shake of his head, August stormed out of the room toward the front doors.
“This was below you, Reyna,” Marcus muttered before stalking after him.
Long beats of silence settled over the rest of us while we digested the shitpile we’d somehow landed in. Outside, the storm kept raging.
At last, Freya cleared her throat. “The last item on the docket—we’re in need of a fate weaver.”
“What the hell for?” Sire asked, still staring at the closed front doors like he was half considering following them out.
“We’ve yet to find someone with a power ranking deep enough to close the gates aside from Ally and August. And there are victims of manipulated bonds we need to set free.”
“Like Dr. Green?”
Freya nodded curtly. “Like Dr. Green.”
“Well. I suppose I can be of use after all.”
We all swiveled toward the newcomer, my stomach dropping out my ass when I landed on sandy hair and green goddamn eyes. The bastard must’ve slipped in when August or Marcus left, lurking in the shadows like the assassin he was.
Atreus Hawthorne shook the water from his hair as he stepped into the war room. “Apologies for my tardiness, Commander.” Freya slipped her hand from mine when he dipped his chin to her in deference. Then the son of a bitch rounded the table, took her hand, bent at the waist, and pressed his fucking lips to her knuckles. My vision went fucking crimson.
“But I believe I can be of service in that regard.”
TWENTY-FIVE
ELSEWHERE
MAGNOLIA
Whenever you think at last you’ve hit bottom, know that it can always get worse. Aren had tossed that out as a joke during an opening lecture before sparring one morning.
