LEVIATHAN #3
My stomach twists hard enough that I have to shift my weight. Rowan stays close without crowding me while Amand moves to the other side of the desk and studies the file from where he stands.
“So the rogue-werewolf story was bullshit from the beginning.” I drag my gaze back to Gerald. “What happened after they arrested him?”
“He died in custody from injuries sustained during the arrest. I spent years looking for evidence that somebody else had directed him toward your father because I expected there to be more, but I never found any. He was hunting rare designations for himself.”
For once, hearing Gerald admit he doesn't know something doesn't irritate me. I'm too busy putting together the part that matters more.
“You had all of this before you met me.”
Gerald goes quiet again, and that silence tells me enough that I step closer to the desk. “I’m not asking whether you started researching Chameleons before me. I’m asking how long you had my father’s file while I was walking around believing nobody else knew what really killed him.”
Gerald meets my eyes. “I found the file years before you came to Essence. I didn't know then that you would eventually become the Chameleon I was looking for, but once Ginny’s case brought you onto my radar, I went back through everything I had and connected the names.”
The answer hits harder than a one-word admission could have.
He didn't simply learn about my father after meeting me.
He already had pieces of my life sitting in a drawer, and once he realized who I was, he kept them there while he stood in front of me pretending we were discovering everything together.
Rowan’s arm comes around my waist before I realize my body is moving.
Gerald watches me with the same expression he used when he explained fatal attraction. Calm. Patient. Like information belongs to him until he decides I'm ready to have it.
“You stood in my office and told me I wasn’t alone.” My voice shakes, and I hate it enough that I almost stop talking. “You knew my father had been killed because someone was looking for a Chameleon, and you said nothing.”
Gerald’s expression hardens. “I didn't tell you because knowing why he targeted your father would have sent you digging into a designation you barely understood while you were still learning what you were.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make.”
“You would have gone looking for everything you could find about Veilborn.”
“Probably.”
“And you weren't prepared.”
I laugh and feel Rowan’s arm tighten around me. “There it is again.”
Gerald’s expression hardens. “This is not the same situation.”
“It is exactly the same situation. You decide I can’t handle the truth, so you keep it.
You decide a case might make me stronger, so you hand it to me without telling me what you’re testing.
You decide Rowan surviving proves the risk was acceptable, so suddenly it doesn’t matter that he could have died. ”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“No. You were deciding what my life was allowed to look like.”
Gerald’s gaze drops briefly when Amand steps in close enough that his shoulder brushes mine. The bond settles around me almost immediately, Rowan warm at my back and Amand cool against my side, my magic smoothing beneath my skin before I consciously reach for either of them.
Gerald watches the change.
I see it happen.
His attention sharpens for less than a second, but it's enough.
I start laughing again, quieter this time. “You’re still doing it.”
Gerald looks back at my face. “Doing what?”
“Watching what they do to me.” I lean into Rowan’s chest and hook my fingers through Amand’s, letting Gerald see the choice instead of the reaction. “You’re standing here explaining why we’re furious that you turned our bond into data, and you still can’t stop checking the result.”
For the first time, Gerald looks almost tired. “Because what is happening to you matters.”
“It matters to me too.” I tighten my grip on both of them and feel my designation settle harder around the three of us. “The difference is that I’m done letting you decide what happens next.”
Gerald studies me for several seconds. “You still don't know the limits of what you can become.”
“Maybe I don’t.” I look at the folder carrying my father’s name, then at the man who kept it from me while pretending we were learning together. “But if finding out requires another one of my mates nearly dying so you can write confirmed beside a theory, you can stay curious.”
Rowan’s chest vibrates against my back with a low growl, while Amand squeezes my hand and keeps his attention fixed on Gerald. Neither of them pulls me toward the door yet, and I'm grateful because I need Gerald to hear the last part without pretending there is room left to negotiate.
“You got your unicorn trial. You got your hostile-magic trial. You got all that time of watching what Basilisk venom does to me, what separation does to me, and what happens when they put me back together.” I hold Gerald’s gaze until his expression finally loses that clinical distance.
“Whatever experiment you thought you were running ends here. You don't get to choose the next test.”