Epilogue
Rory
The afternoon light slanted through the grimy windows of The George, casting everything in that particular golden haze that made even London’s tattiest pubs look almost romantic.
Almost. The place buzzed with post-work chatter, suits loosening ties and office workers celebrating the end of another Thursday.
Kit and I had nabbed a corner table, two pints of bitter sitting between us, both half empty.
I wrapped my fingers around the cool glass, watching the condensation bead on the surface. “Do you have a date for your operation yet?”
Kit shook his head, jabbing at the spot just above his neck.
“Little metal bastard has been inside me so damn long, Seb wants Dr Hartwell to run more tests before they attempt removal. Something about mapping neural pathways and ensuring they don’t cause more damage taking it out than leaving it in. ”
The last three months had been a whirlwind of loose ends and careful cleanup.
We’d extracted as much information as possible from the people we’d found at the castle.
Sadly, none of them were very high up in GREY—mainly lackeys, apart from that one woman.
Dr Sarah Chen, according to her university records.
Masters in bioengineering, PhD in neural implant technology.
Seb had almost had to resort to more persuasive methods to get her talking, but she’d eventually cracked, passing on everything she knew about GREY’s structure and operations.
The real work had come after. We’d housed the rescued wolves at Killigrew Street Hotel for weeks, nursing them back to full health and sanity.
Seb had enlisted Dr Hartwell to remove the chips from each of their cerebellums—delicate operations that had to be undertaken at a private hospital.
It was no small feat to keep them off any official records.
Though Dr Hartwell made it clear there was a small chance of death from the operation, every single wolf went through with it.
Then we’d sent them home to various cities across the UK.
Carrie and her cousin had stayed the longest, meeting up with Dev on several occasions before finally taking a train back to Glasgow.
She’d made it abundantly clear that she did not enjoy the private jet experience, luxurious as it had been.
Something about “rich people nonsense” and “perfectly good trains that don’t leave the bloody ground. ”
My pack had never found Isla. Or, if they had, they hadn’t contacted us. I preferred to pretend it was the former of the two options. The alternative—that they’d found her and dealt with her according to their own justice—made my stomach turn, even knowing what she’d done.
Following up on leads was our current top priority.
Seb had spent more time than ever on the phone to White, their weekly calls stretching into hours as they tried to track GREY’s other operations.
Seb had also been pestering her about how my mother had somehow obtained information about Theo’s identity and ability.
Unsurprisingly, she hadn’t been terribly forthcoming.
Now, only Kit’s chip remained. A chip that had been inside him for years.
“Well, if it’s going to be dangerous, then maybe you’d better—”
“I want the bloody thing gone, Rory! Every day I can feel it in there. Like a splinter under my skin, except it’s in my head.”
I leaned forward, lowering my voice. The couple at the next table were deep in their own drama, but still. “And you really don’t remember them putting it in? Nothing? Not at all?”
Kit’s eyes went distant, unfocused. He lifted his pint but didn’t drink, just held it like an anchor.
“There’s so much of that time I’ve forgotten.
Used to think it was PTSD, you know? Combat stress, losing mates, all the usual military bollocks.
” He paused, finally taking a sip. “But now… now I wonder if some of it was whatever they’ve put in me. ”
The thought made my stomach clench—someone scrambling around inside my brother’s brain like he was a bloody computer.
“I just can’t believe it’s been there, all this time. I keep having thoughts about how I might have been acting like a human camera all this time. Like, recording everything I see and sending it to them. Felix has told me it’s unlikely, but…”
“But we’d have said that about someone creating an army of wolf robots a couple of months ago,” I finished.
Clink. Kit set his pint down harder than necessary. “I understand why they’re resorting to controlling wolves. Because the things they had us do…” His voice trailed off, eyes fixed on something I couldn’t see.
“Kit?”
“All in the name of ‘national interests’ apparently. But with GREY completely off any record, there wasn’t ever any level of accountability.
Who even knows what we were actually doing?
” The bitterness in his voice cut through the pub’s warmth.
“God… the things I did.” He covered his face with his hand.
“You know, you’ve barely ever told me anything about that time,” I said softly.
“Yeah, well.” He exhaled heavily, shoulders sagging.
“It’s no secret that I hate talking about hard stuff.
I like to keep it all buried in locked boxes in my brain.
And when a box opens, even a little, everything rushes out Pandora style, and it’s all too much and I just want to lock everything up again. ”
I nodded slowly. “I get that. I really do. Though… not today, obviously, because the others are coming, but one day soon, I’d really love to sit down and talk with you.
About some of the stuff that happened back when we were growing up, that I still think about.
I want to talk about it all without you shutting me down straight away. ”
Kit looked away, his jaw working.
“Even if you mainly just listen,” I continued in a rush.
“That will be enough. Honest. But, Kit, it’s really important to me.
You’re the only one I want to talk to about it.
The only one who will truly understand.” Teddy had been nothing short of extraordinary when the nightmares dragged me under—those steady hands and quiet reassurances in the dark hours before dawn.
But there were things only my brother could help me make sense of, memories that needed someone who’d been there to witness them.
Kit’s chest rose and fell heavily. When he spoke again, his voice came out strained.
“I think one of the reasons I hate you talking about that time is because it reminds me of how guilty I feel about it all. You know… because I let Dad manipulate me into being bloody despicable to you.” He took a deep, unsteady breath, as if the words were costing him.
“I remember how he used to get me to completely ignore you when you were ‘acting up.’ To pretend you weren’t in the room, that I couldn’t hear your voice.
You used to get so upset. Scream at me until you were red in the face. But I still did it.”
My throat tightened. I remembered those days all too well: Kit staring right through me as if I didn’t exist, me howling, stamping my feet with rage. Only resisting the urge to punch him because I didn’t feel confident he wouldn’t strangle me if I did.
“You kept trying to break through to me for so long,” Kit continued.
“You clearly held some hope that the brother you loved was still in there. But then you just… gave up. And when I left, I knew what I was leaving you with. Knew what would happen. But I still did it. I just… left you there, with them.”
Kit’s chest began shaking, and I reached across the table, covering his hand with mine.
“But then you came for me,” I said. “The second you found out I was living in Glasgow. You came. You rescued me, and brought me back here. You moved me into your flat, got me a job… gave me a new family. A home, here. A real home, like I never knew existed. I’ll never stop being grateful to you, every day of my life. ”
Kit shook his head slightly, as if it didn’t excuse anything. “Course I did. You’re my brother. My pack. I love you more than anything.”
“I love you too. That’s why I want to talk about it all, sometimes. You might be able to lock it all away in boxes in your head, but it isn’t like that for me. It buzzes around in my mind all the time.”
“Okay,” said Kit. “Of course you can talk to me, Rory. Anytime.”
“And while I’m making demands…” I took a breath, remembering Teddy’s gentle nudging from the other day. “When we’re at Killigrew Street, in meetings, I want you to stop talking down to me in front of everyone. It makes me feel like you’re telling me off. Like a child. Seb is my boss, not you.”
Kit blinked, his grip tightening on his pint. A deep frown split his forehead. “I… didn’t quite realise I was doing that. I’m sorry.”
“I feel like you feel responsible for my actions, because you got me the job there. And that’s something I always think about too. But you jump in to criticise me at every tiny thing, and it really gets me down.”
Kit’s face crumpled slightly. He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Okay. I hear you. I’ll really try to work on that.”
“Thank you.”
Kit cleared his throat, straightening in his seat. He checked his watch with sharp, jerky movements. “They’re all bloody late. And… do you know if Felix is coming?”
“Maybe?” I said, shrugging. “Priya will know. If she ever bothers to arrive.”
I looked towards the entrance. Teddy should have been here by now. He’d been off work today—he needed to take his mother to an appointment—and we’d parted ways this morning with him promising to meet us at half-past six. It was nearly seven.
A familiar panic started crawling up my spine. What if he didn’t come? What if—