Shattered Innocence (Lockswell Boarding House #2)

Prologue

Evander

Kasey darted ahead of me on the trail, all skinny legs and boundless energy, his laughter bouncing between the trees like it belonged there.

“Evy, come on!” He called over his shoulder, waving both arms like I might somehow miss him in the middle of the path.

I wasn’t worried about losing him, but I still lengthened my stride. Someone had to keep an eye on him and it sure wasn’t going to be the adults arguing over tent poles back at camp.

Truthfully, I’d follow the little Omega anywhere, no matter how much our parents teased me for it. Kasey had been my whole world for as long as I could remember — not in the way my friends joked about, but in the way you care about someone who trusts you completely.

I was five the first time I saw him, and something in me just… clicked. From that moment on, I knew I was supposed to look for him. Protect him. Make sure he never felt alone.

Kasey stopped suddenly, dropping into a crouch beside a patch of tiny blue flowers pushing up through the moss.

His eyes went wide as they always did when something small and beautiful caught his attention, and he glanced back at me with that bright, breathless excitement that made everything feel lighter.

“Lookie!”

I came up beside him, hands in my short pockets, pretending I wasn’t already smiling. “Yeah, I see them.”

The blue matched his eyes, the same eyes that were always bright and saw the world as though it was meant to cater to his every need.

“They’re little. Like me.”

“You’re not that little,” I said, even though he absolutely was. Smaller than the other kids his age. Softer, too. The kind of kid others wanted to protect themselves without even thinking about it.

My friends teased me sometimes. They said I acted like he was my shadow, or like I was practicing being some kind of overbearing Alpha. But they didn’t get it. Kasey wasn’t mine in that way.

He was just…Kasey. Sweet, wide-eyed and easy to like. Easy to care for.

My mom liked to say it was because I’m an Alpha. That we’re born wired to protect Omegas, that our minds just latch onto the ones who need us most. Dad always joked it was because I wanted a little brother and ended up adopting the neighbor kid who looked at me like I hung on the moon.

Honestly, I thought they were both ridiculous. Because even at thirteen, Kasey wasn’t instinct or some stand-in sibling. He was just…my person. My favorite part of every day. And the idea of a world without him in it felt impossible, like trying to breathe without lungs.

We had a bond I couldn’t explain, not even to myself. It wasn’t romantic, no matter what my friends teased me about. It was simpler than that. Stronger than that. It was just there — this quiet thread between us that had existed since the moment we met.

Kasey slipped his hand into mine without looking, like he’d done a thousand times before. Like he trusted me to be exactly where he needed me, every single time.

Kasey’s fingers curled around mine, small and warm, and I felt that familiar tug in my chest.

He hummed under his breath as we walked, swinging our joined hands like he didn’t have a single worry in the world. I envied that sometimes. How light he was. How easily he found joy in things most people took for granted.

Like those blue flowers.

I know that was mostly due to our age gap. Him being eight while I was thirteen. Five years was huge at our age, but even then, Kasey’s view of the world was different than any one I’d ever met before.

I tightened my grip just a little, guiding him around a fallen branch. He didn’t look, just followed the pressure of my hand, trusting me to lead him wherever I wanted.

That trust scared me sometimes.

Not because I didn’t want it, but because I wasn’t sure I deserved it.

I was thirteen. Awkward, growing too fast, and tripping over my feet more than I wanted to admit.

I wasn’t a hero. I wasn’t even the oldest kid in our group.

We had other family, cousins and random friends that came on our camping trips at least a few times a year.

I still had to wonder why he didn’t hang out with the other kids his age. Sure, there was only one other Omega while the rest were a mix of Alphas and Betas, but they were all nice to him. Included him in games of hide and seek.

“Evy?” He spoke softly, tilting his head up at me.

“Yeah?”

“Why can’t I go to school with you?” He kicked at a pinecone like it had personally offended him.

Right. School.

I was supposed to start a new year in a few days — a building full of Alphas and Betas, loud hallways, too bright lights, teachers who expected us to act older than we were.

Kasey wouldn’t be there. Omegas never were. His mama taught him at home, said it was safer that way.

“Because we’re different,” I said gently.

“No, we aren't.” He huffed, crossing his arms like that settled it.

I sighed. I hated this part, hated the rules, hated the way they made him feel small. “I’m Alpha Kase. Omegas aren’t allowed in the same schools as us. It’s just…how things are. Blood type decides where we go.”

He frowned at me; confusion softened his whole face. “But Mama says blood is all the same. We all bled, Evy. So, what makes us so different?”

And there was a question I could never answer. Because I didn’t know either. Because none of them felt fair. Because Kasey was the smartest, kindest kid I knew, and the world still insisted on putting him in a box that he didn’t choose.

I swallowed hard and squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t think it should make us different,” I said quietly. “But the grown-ups decided it does.”

Kasey’s mouth pulled into a tiny pout, and he leaned into my side like he always did when something didn’t make sense. And not for the first time, I wished that I could fix the whole world for him.

“You know the laws; there’s nothing we can do.”

“You could learn like Mama teaches me.” He gave me a bright smile on the idea.

“I wish I could, bud.” I’ve tried that before. Many times, over the years. While my mom would let me do so, Father refused the idea right away.

Alphas can’t learn to be a part of the world if they hide from it. It took all the effort I could to keep from rolling my eyes at the words my father said way too many times.

“Come on,” I grabbed his hand, tugging him back towards where camp was set up. “Let's go see if the food is ready. I’m starving.”

If I knew what the next few hours were going to bring me, I would never let go of his small hand.

If only….