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“Hmmm?” I glance up, pretending to be distracted before shaking my head in answer. “Nah, I’m good. I’m sure Lenora’s gonna make a nurse wheel me up. Just because I’m leaving without a stab wound doesn’t mean her rules are gonna change.”

Vae rocks back on his heels. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Forgot about that rule.”

“Yup.”

“I’ll just… see you in a bit, then.”

Vae’s fingers flex around the edge of the door, squeezing like he doesn’t want to let go. Dax huffs, rolling his eyes and grabbing his arm, yanking him away from the door.

“Let the guy change. We’ll see him upstairs. He’s not gonna disappear on us.”

I might. Might take my Mate and fuck off somewhere you’ll never find either of us ever again.

My Packmate forces out a laugh. “Duh. Of—of course he’s not gonna disappear. Obviously.” He rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t turn around and leave until the door clicks shut between us.

I wait ten minutes before peeking into the hall to find a nurse—and wheelchair— waiting for me.

The trip to my room is a blur. When we get outside, the sun is high in the sky. I almost ask my nurse—a new girl I haven’t met before—what time it is, but she doesn’t look like speaking much.

Which is fine. It gives me time to concentrate on my Mate Bond. Once I begin examining it closely, I can’t pull my attention away. I’m vaguely aware of reaching my room and thanking the nurse. I’m aware of the door to Vae’s room opening, his head peeking around the oak with a grin when he sees I’m on my feet. I return his grin with a tight smile, but my attention’s focused solely on one thing. One person.

My Mate.

All through my shower, I study the Bond. It’s overwhelming. Bright and alive, four times larger than my Pack Bond Threads, and so full of power it’s intoxicating. Even my side of the Scent-Match Bond—which, from what I’ve heard, should be reaching for Idril—is wrapped tight around the silver thread, pulsing with contentment.

Almost like the silver Bond is strengthening it. Reassuring and soothing it.

Remarkable.

Idril is much calmer than before, but still anxious. The fear is gone, soothed by something I’m struggling to understand, but she’s practically vibrating with impatience.

That’s what finally kicks my ass into gear, and in less than five minutes I’ve dressed, thrown on my shoes, and am shoving my phone in my pocket as I shut the door to my room.

Vae and Dax meet me at the entrance to our Pack’s wing, and I grind my teeth to keep from frowning when I see them.

I never thought I’d feel this way about my brothers. I’ve walked through fire for these assholes. I’ve taken bullets—lost limbs. Damn near lost my life—twice—just to keep them safe.

I remember the blinding sense of relief I felt when I opened my eyes in Varenthall’s basement to see Dax standing over me, knowing that as soon as they went to our Mate, she’d be safe. I’d only just discovered that she was our Scent-Match, and I was so fucking confident that all of Daxen’s suspicions would melt away the moment he got her scent.

I don’t know what the fuck happened to prevent Dax and Vae from scenting Idril, but it really doesn’t fucking matter, does it?

I believed in that Bond. I believed in the innate goodness of my brothers. I trusted them with the most important, most precious person in the fucking universe.

And they failed.

Failed me. Failed her.

Failed themselves.

I don’t know if I can ever trust them again. Worse… I don’t know if Idril will ever trust them, and that breaks my fucking heart. No one in the world deserves to be loved, worshipped, and cared for the way she does. The last two weeks should have been filled with tenderness, joy, and freedom.

My hands clench into fists. I pretend not to see how their worry increases with each weighted look. Pretend I’m not fucking vibrating with betrayal, imagining all the shit they’ve put our Omega through.

At the doors to the War Room, my Packmates hesitate. It’s clear they want to say something, but I don’t give them a chance. I reach for the doorknob right as Dax reaches for my arm and I slip away from him and step into the room. He sighs, but follows behind me.

The last time I was here was the night before the ambush. It feels like a thousand years ago now.

Gav, already in his seat at the head of the table, looks up from his phone when he hears the doors swinging open. When his eyes sweep past me, they soften.