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I shoot out of my seat and glare at the beautiful male who basically holds my life in his callous hands.

“I told you the truth. I felt him. I felt Caelan. I knew exactly where he was in the house, and I heard my father pull up, and I ran.”

“Sit. Down.” Vaelenor doesn’t even look at me.

I don’t. I stay where I am, chest heaving, hands clenched into angry fists. For one insane moment, I consider refusing him outright. What are they going to do if I don’t, force me?

Cage stands. Silas follows a breath behind him, both males glaring at me like they’re just waiting for Vaelenor to give the order to do exactly that.

I register the excitement on Cage’s face, and my bravery evaporates.

They actually would force me. Not only that, they’d enjoy it.

Fates, I’m so stupid. What am I doing?

My bones seem to liquefy, and before I know what I’m doing, I sit.

How many times have I tried to explain what happened? How many more times will they make me tell them the same truths before they believe me?

A thousand. A million. A million more.

Be serious, Idril. You knew this was how it was going to be. You knew last night. You knew in that cell. You even knew in your bathroom when you thought you were being rescued and realized you were being imprisoned instead.

Stop hoping, you foolish girl. Stop trying to see the best in people.

It really doesn’t matter what I say. They won’t believe a word of it unless they can twist it into proof that I’m some kind of mastermind.

I could stand on this Fates-damned table and rip my chest open to show them the Bond and they’d tell me to my face I was making it up.

My reality comes into focus, settling firmly in my bones. The truth is heavy. A weight that doesn’t belong. That I can’t move, no matter how hard I push.

There will be no kindness, no understanding, and no acceptance. This may be the family my Mate chose, but they are not mine.

They never will be.

How very fitting that we’re so close to Salem, because this is nothing but a witch hunt. Every answer I give—every truth I tell—is worthless. They want me to be guilty. Need me to be.

Because if I’m not, then that means they’ll have to look elsewhere for someone to point their fingers at. They don’t have my father. They won’t blame themselves. I’m the most convenient person to blame.

And if they do finally decide to believe me? Then they’ll have to admit that they threw an innocent girl in a cell—their best friend’s Fated Mate. The worse things become, the harder they’ll double down.

So they’ll keep this up until I either confess or I break. Whichever happens first.

My blood and bones weigh me down as reality sinks in. My shoulders slump. My lips gradually stop trembling, and numbness spreads through my limbs.

The Alphas are still laughing and tossing casual insults my way, but their voices sound like static. Everything feels fuzzy and disconnected from reality. Just like in the cell yesterday.

My gaze wanders toward the window. Toward freedom.

The sun glints off a small pond at the back of the property. A small bird swoops off a low-hanging tree branch and skims gracefully over the water, its black feathers a stark contrast against the brightness of the day.

I hate myself for hoping. I hate that I actually thought that if I were honest, they’d see the truth.

Vae’s small kindness with the water lulled me into a false sense of security.

All that pretty hope came crashing down in less time than it took to blink. Fates, I feel stupid. Am I really so desperate for kindness that I allowed a single moment to fool me into believing Vaelenor was more than the male he already proved to be?

As I watch the blackbird perk on a low-hanging branch, I realize I much prefer Daxen’s antagonism over Vae’s false smiles.