New Year with the Cartel (Nightshade Wolves #8)

Chapter 16

Fendwyr

The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the golf course as I watched Gustall line up his shot. This should be a good moment in our lives, but I felt it was anything but. I didn't know why, and it was kind of making me mad about it.

Something was off about him—had been for weeks now. His movements were mechanical, his responses to my attempts at conversation clipped and distant. We also hadn't been intimate in a long time. I missed the feeling of his hands against me. Did he not think the same? Did he get tired of me?

Even now, as he adjusted his stance, I could sense his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about something far distant from what was happening in this moment, and I had no idea what it was. He also refused to share it with me.

"Your form is improving," I commented, trying once again to engage him. He'd been resistant to learning golf at first, but I'd insisted. An alpha of my status needed a mate who could participate in social activities. Besides, the gentle exercise was good for the pregnancy.

There was nothing negative about it, except for how distant he felt from me. I wished he would just say what was bothering him. If he did, I'd be able to do something about it.

"Thanks," he muttered, not even looking at me. The ball sailed wide, missing the hole by several feet. He wasn't interested in the game; he couldn't care less about it. He was only playing because he felt forced to.

I approached him, fighting the urge to pull him against me, to demand answers about his increasingly withdrawn behavior. Instead, I retrieved another ball from my pocket. "Here, try again. This time, let me show you—"

"I can do it myself." His voice was flat, almost cold. He took the ball but didn't meet my eyes.

Something inside me twisted. This wasn't my omega, not the one who'd shared visions with me, who'd matched my passion with his own. This was someone else entirely, and I didn't like it one bit.

And I was getting tired of what he was doing. I had to do something about it. I had to tell him exactly what I was thinking.

"You've been distant lately," I said carefully, measuring his reaction. "Is it the pregnancy? Are you feeling unwell? You know you can tell me anything."

A bitter laugh escaped him. "Now you're concerned about my wellbeing? Now, of all times?"

"I'm always concerned about you." I moved closer, noting how he tensed. "You're carrying my child. Our first child." I couldn't help the pride that crept into my voice. And yes, I was planning on having more babies with him. "Do you know how long I've waited for this? A real chance at fatherhood, with my fated mate?"

Something flickered across his face—pain? Anger? Before I could decipher it, he turned away, gripping his golf club so tightly that his knuckles went white.

"Your first child," he repeated. "Is that what you really believe?"

Wait, what did he know that I didn't?

The air between us changed, filled with something dangerous. I didn't like it, but was going to confront it anyway.

"What do you mean?"

"I met Elias."

Two words. Just two words, but they hit me like physical blows. Memories flooded back—another omega, another pregnancy, and a loss that had driven me to violence. No. This couldn't be happening. Not now, when I thought I was having such a good moment with my omega.

"When?" I demanded, my voice dropping to a growl. "How?" He had to tell me everything.

"Does it matter?" Gustall finally turned to face me, and I saw tears in his eyes. "What matters is that I know. About him, about the others, about everything you did after he lost the baby."

"Lost the baby?" My laugh was harsh. "They killed my child. Of course I hunted them down. What alpha wouldn't?"

"No one killed your child, Fendwyr." His voice cracked. "The stress of being confined, of being controlled every minute of every day—that's what killed your baby. Just like it could kill ours, and I'm not going to allow that to happen. I can't. I would never forgive myself if it did."

I moved without thinking, gripping his arms. I didn't want to hurt him. I just wanted to show him that I was serious about this.

"Don't say that. Don't you dare—"

"What? Speak the truth?" He tried to pull away, but I held firm. "I've seen the evidence. Rodriguez sent me files—"

"Rodriguez?" Red tinged my vision. "You've been in contact with Rodriguez? Behind my back? Don't you remember what he did to you? How I had to save you?"

"He sent me proof of what you did. Medical records, police reports, surveillance footage. The way you hunted Elias after he escaped, the others you 'protected' until they couldn't take it anymore." His free hand moved to his stomach, protective. "I won't let that happen to my child."

Well, it was our child, actually. It wasn't only up to him. The decision was also mine.

"Our situation is different," I insisted, trying to make him understand. "We're fated mates. What we have is real, destined—"

"Being fated mates doesn't change who you are!" He finally wrenched free. "It doesn't excuse what you've done, what you're still doing. Look at you now, gripping me like I'm property, ready to lock me up just like you did to them. I'm not going to allow it. It's going to be different with me."

"I never—"

"Never what? Never meant to hurt them? Never intended to drive them away? But you did, and you will again, because you can't help yourself." He backed away, dropping the golf club. "I'm leaving, and you can't change my mind. I can't spend another day with you."

The words hit me like ice water. "No."

"Yes." His chin lifted in defiance. "I won't let our child grow up in this world, surrounded by violence and your obsession with control. I won't become another Elias."

"You're not going anywhere." My voice was deadly calm now. Inside, my mind raced through options and contingencies. I'd learned from past mistakes. This time would be different. It had to be, and I was going to make sure of it.

"You can't stop me."

"Can't I?" I pulled out my phone, pressing a single button. Within moments, my security team emerged from discrete positions around the golf course. "I think you'll find I can."

Fear flashed across his face—real fear, of me. It should have made me pause, should have shown me I was proving his point. But all I could think about was another omega, another child, slipping away from me. Except that, this time, it wasn't going to happen. I was in control.

"Take him to the secure room," I ordered. "Careful with him. He's carrying something precious to me. If you hurt him, I'll kill you."

"Fendwyr, please," Gustall begged as my men approached. "Don't do this. Don't prove I was right about you."

"I'm protecting you," I insisted, even as part of me screamed that this was wrong. "Both of you. You'll understand one day."

They led him away, his final look of betrayal burning into my memory. I stood alone on the golf course, the setting sun painting everything blood-red. This was necessary, I told myself. This time would be different. This time, I wouldn't lose them.

This time, we would have a happy family. The family of my dreams…

But as I watched them escort my mate—my pregnant, terrified mate—into confinement, another memory surfaced: Elias, looking back at me with that same expression before his failed escape attempt. Before the stress and fear had taken our child.

No. This was different. Gustall was different. He was my fated mate, destined to be mine across lifetimes. And if keeping him safe meant keeping him locked away, then that's what I would do. Even if it meant becoming the monster he already thought I was.

I was no monster. I was only doing what was right.

I picked up the abandoned golf club, studying its weight in my hands. Such a civilized game, golf. All about control, precision, and maintaining the proper appearance. Just like everything else in my life.

My phone buzzed—a message from my security team confirming Gustall was secured in the room I'd prepared months ago, though I'd hoped never to use it. The room was comfortable, equipped with everything an omega might need. Everything except freedom.

He was going to hate me even more than he already did, but that was okay. Again, he would learn soon.

"Set up the medical equipment," I ordered, already planning ahead. "I want daily checkups on both him and the baby. No chances this time."

This was the right decision, I told myself. The necessary one. Gustall might despise me now even more than before, but again, he'd understand eventually. They all did, in the end. Or at least, they learned to accept it.

But as I walked back toward the compound, leaving our unfinished game behind, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life. This feeling surfaced before in similar situations.

I couldn't help but think that in trying to prevent history from repeating itself, I'd ensured exactly that outcome.

No. I shook off the doubt. This time would be different. This time, I wouldn't fail. This time, I'd keep what was mine, no matter the cost. I had to.

Even if that cost was Gustall's love.

The security feed on my phone showed him sitting on the bed in his new room, hands cradling our child. His lips moved in what looked like a prayer, or maybe a promise. I switched off the feed. I couldn't bear to watch, not now.

Plus, I knew he would be okay. I just needed to give him some time. Tempers were running high at the moment, but soon he would be calm and feeling better.

This was necessary, I repeated to myself. Necessary and temporary. Once the baby was born, once they were both safe, he'd understand. He'd forgive me.

He had to.

Because if he didn't, if this really was the mistake Gustall claimed it was, then I'd just proven everything he feared about me. And that was a truth I wasn't ready to face.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.