Chapter 21
brYLEE
The guys' living room is a mess. Weapons lie haphazardly across the couch. A box of bullets must have spilled at some point, because the brass specks gleam all across the floor.
Luka immediately shifts forward, bending at the waist and scooping up a pile of laundry that looks like it might be tuxedos.
"Sorry." He heads to a back room with a massive mound of clothing drooping from his arms. "Someone pick up those rounds!"
Ridge leans against me, my arm gently around his waist, almost hovering, incredibly aware of the thick bandages on his opposite side. I glance up at him and notice that the car ride home has left him a bit pale.
"Don't worry about that.” I dismiss Luka’s concern over the mess with a wave of my free hand. Glancing up at Kylian's furrowed brow, finding him studying Ridge with the same intensity I am, I ask, "Closest bedroom?"
The big alpha jerks his head to the right. "This way."
I follow him down a narrow hallway to a small room with a double bed that looks comically small for my massive mates. Kylian pulls back the top sheet—there is no comforter—and helps me settle Ridge into place diagonally, his feet hanging over the edge of the mattress.
The alpha leader keeps his face placid, but I can see the tiny line of sweat on his golden hairline. He still has some healing to do.
Leaning down, I reverently sweep back his hair, tenderness infusing my touch, a sort of gentle worship that I hope sinks through his skin. "I'll be right back with some water."
His eyelids slowly flutter closed.
Kylian and I turn toward the door, and he gestures to let me precede him into the hall.
I do, tugging self-consciously at the sweatshirt I'm still wearing, though it's now paired with a set of leggings scrounged up from a kind-hearted nurse and some grippy hospital socks. Fashion statement of the year.
The door clicks softly shut behind me before Kylian whispers in a low tone, "Bet you a kiss that he's asleep before you're back with that water."
I grin and glance back over my shoulder. "I'm going to lose that bet. But I'll take it anyway."
"Yeah, you will." He juts his chin and gives me one of those cheeky, panty-obliterating smiles that makes all the omegas in Darling swoon.
But that smile is mine, all mine.
Possessiveness causes my chest to clench. A tiny bit of my perfume swirls into the air, making me a bit self-conscious. But Kylian swoops forward, his arms closing around my biceps. He presses his body against my back, and I can feel how hard he is. Just from the tiniest hint of my scent.
It makes a small smile curl my lips.
But the feeling intensifies into something deeper as Kylian holds me, and I observe Luka darting around the living room, erasing the evidence of their frantic departure.
Evidence of how much they care.
My chest cracks apart, a weepy vulnerability rising inside. This delicate, overwhelming connection between us… I've never had something like this. My kneecaps start to melt.
Caran and Ted love me—I'm sure of that. But that brotherly, “I’ll kick you in the shins, but if someone messes with you, they're dead” kind of love isn't the same.
The loyalty's there.
But not the awe.
This is…church choir singing. That echoey, immaculate, impossible feeling from the most beautiful voices weaving together. Those goose bumps rising on the skin. The worshipful devotion.
This is…insta-lust, manic rave-music horniness. The throb of a bass beat in my lower belly, the screech of a guitar plucking at my nipples, the microphone-swallowing yell of claiming.
This is…top-of-a-mountain, hands-on-head, can't-believe-I'm-at-the-summit laughter. Where the world has never before looked so beautiful, and I've never felt so strong.
The mate bond we share is everything I never knew could simultaneously exist.
My throat grows hollow though.
Because in order for our bond to stay pure, I absolutely need to tell Kylian and Luka the truth.
Pulling forward, away from Kylian, I clear my throat and say, "Luka, could you sit on the couch next to Kylian? I need to tell you something."
My hands get clammy with sweat in a single second.
Colter didn't care.
Ridge figured it out.
But…what if my other alphas feel differently?
My mind immediately wants to drive off a cliff into a dozen different disaster scenarios. But I try to hold it at bay by making eye contact with Colter, who stands and leans against the kitchen counter, legs crossed casually at the ankles.
"Would you…mind getting Ridge that water? I need to catch them up on things." My voice wavers mid-sentence, and I can tell the second he realizes just what things I mean.
But Colter gives a single nod before moving around the counter into the minuscule kitchen.
Kylian strides around me and picks up a rifle that was left on the couch, letting the gun plop casually onto his lap as he sits down. "Bet still applies, baby."
"Of course." I try to sound casual but fail miserably.
Luka picks up on my tension as he strides slowly toward the couch, a night-vision headset in one hand and a grenade in the other.
He perches on the edge of the couch, back stiff.
I can't tell if that's because he's expecting bad news from me or if that's how he always sits and I'm just overthinking.
I wait until Colter's heavy steps fade down the hall.
And then I'm out of excuses to stall. Wringing my sweaty fingers, I lick my lips and try to figure out where to start.
But is there really a good place when I've been lying?
My teeth dig into my lower lip as I close my eyes, and I blow out a long breath. "I'm Teddie."
It's silent.
Too silent. I crack open one eye and peer down at the two mates who still don't know the whole truth.
Kylian's head is tilted, one hand rubbing at the top of his dark hair. Luka's squinting at me. Or frowning. I'm not quite sure. Nervous prickles rattle me.
Luka orders, "Explain."
He uses the same sort of alpha tone he does in class, one that's full of command, meant to make recruits snap to attention. As if I've been programmed to respond to that tone, I jump into detail.
"So, Teddie is my twin. But he's sick. Too sick to go to Eros. So, I've been wearing a bodysuit and using scent blockers and going to class in his place."
Luka sets the grenade deliberately on a side table and flexes his fingers, almost as if he was clutching it too hard. I flinch, tracking his every move.
"You…have been posing…as your brother?" he asks, incredibly slowly, as if I mumbled every word and he couldn't quite catch what I said.
Maybe I did.
"Ye-yes."
"In our classes?"
"Yes."
I'm not certain whose expression is more horrified right now—his or mine. Both our eyes are wide, and the brown depths of his gaze feel like quicksand. I'm drowning.
Kylian rises to his feet, breaking my stare-off with Luka. The tattooed alpha holds out the rifle still in his grip.
One of his brows is cocked skeptically as he says, "Prove it. Show me a fight-ready stance."
I swallow hard, but I slide my feet until I've got one braced behind me and the other forward. My hands rise to protect the sides of my head.
Without warning, Kylian tosses the rifle at me. "Clear it."
I catch it as I hold his gaze. Hands working automatically, I remove the magazine and then the round loaded in the chamber.
"Gun down, soldier." Kylian flops back onto the couch, tossing an arm casually across the back.
He stares at me, and slowly he shakes his head.
My stomach twists tightly.
Is that disbelief? Condemnation? Disgust?
I can't tell.
Frantic, flapping moths flit all the way from my toes up to my skull as I set down the weapon and its parts on a nearby chair.
Luka lets the headset drop off his lap onto the cushion between them as he brings both elbows to his knees and then uses his palms to scrub at his forehead.
Though my typical instinct is to shut my mouth and clam up, my mates seem to have the opposite effect on me. Over-explanations pour from my lips in a flood.
"Ted has karkinos. And it's bad. It's progressed. He won't tell our parents because of my mom. And I was already at Darling… The schools are so close. It made sense. Nobody needed to know our heir is weak. I thought if I went in his place, he’d get time to recover. But he might not—"
Luka holds up his hand to stop my nervous chatter, and I pause, fighting the ridiculous urge to rock onto my toes in order to dispel the nervous energy ricocheting through me.
Luka’s brow furrows, his eyes narrowed. "The dance… You said you were going to change with Ted."
"I was going to change into Teddie." I give an awkward shrug. "He was the one getting the award. He was the one everyone needed to see."
"We've been such dicks to you," Kylian observes, tapping his hand on the arm of the couch.
"I mean…I knew it wasn't to me," I hedge with a single shoulder shrug because I can’t lie.
They were massive assholes at first.
"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" Luka asks, head shaking side to side, as if he's still processing.
Or as if he thinks he did something wrong. Something that made me distrust him.
Inhaling, I swoop forward until I'm kneeling at his feet, covering his hand with mine as I stare plaintively up at him. I need him to believe my next words.
"You would have treated me differently. People would have noticed. That's the only reason I didn't tell you. The only reason."
Luka snorts in disdain. "I wouldn't have."
I drag my teeth across my lower lip before I say, "Hit me."
Luka instantly recoils the way an omega would if she spotted a spider. Disgusted horror drops his jaw wide open. "No!"
Pursing my lips and tilting my head, I reply, "See? How could I go to class as Teddie if that’s your reaction?"
Kylian's expression darkens, and he points a finger at me. "Not fair."
Heaving out a breath, I nod. "You're right. It wasn't. I just… I'm not used to trusting anyone. It's hard for me. And I'm not trying to make excuses—even though I'm sure that sounds exactly like one… Ugh." I sag down to sit on my ankles and realize my hands are still on top of Luka's.
I start to slide them off, but he catches them in midair. I stare at our hands as he weaves our fingers together and then firmly folds his down, clutching me.
My lungs stutter as I meet his gaze.
"I'm not happy. I understand. But I'm not happy,” he states firmly.
I nod effusively, to the point of ridiculousness, until my eyes start to mist. "Of course."
"Trust is—"
"It's everything. And I'll never keep something from you again. Promise. I'll make it up to you."
His mouth tips up on one side. "I think I'll enjoy watching you try."
"Oh, I know I'll enjoy watching you try," Kylian chimes in bombastically, a broad smile on his face.
He lifts the arm he had draped across the back of the couch, pointing toward the hallway.
I twist more.
Colter stands there, a full glass of water in his hand.
"Little mate, you can start making it up to me now. Because you just lost a bet.” Kylian smirks.
Unwinding my grip from Luka, I let Kylian reach for my arm and pull me up and onto his lap. His eyes practically twinkle with delight as he gazes up at me. One hand comes up to cup my cheek, and his rough palm skims down my face and then over the thudding pulse at my neck.
His brows shoot up. "Well?"
“You win,” I whisper.
Then I lean down and give my mate a kiss to destroy all others.