11. Freesia #2
Izei exited the SUV and moved around the armored bulk to help her out of the passenger seat.
When his hand finally connected with hers, the simple touch sent electricity racing up her arm.
The mate bond thrummed between them, both their nervous systems spiking with anticipation and shared concern around this meeting.
Danger could emerge from any shadow, any window, any blind spot in the surrounding jungle.
The attack at Aldric's cottage had proven that their enemies possessed patience, resources, and the willingness to wait for the perfect moment to strike.
Freesia's fingers found the leather satchel's familiar weight, pressing it protectively against her hip as Luka held the front door open for them.
"Welcome to the circus," he said with that dry humor that had kept her sane. "Fair warning—we've got an audience."
The safehouse's interior hit her like a gut punch.
Huddled throughout the main room were faces that reflected her own story—hollow-eyed families clutching meager possessions, elderly couples who moved with the careful wariness of people who had learned that safety was always temporary, burly men whose protective stances spoke to months of running and hiding.
This is what I looked like, she realized with a sharp pang of recognition. This is what survival does to people.
Another elderly woman sat in the corner with two small children pressed against her sides, their wide eyes tracking every movement with the hypervigilance of prey animals.
A family of four occupied the threadbare sofa, their belongings packed into worn duffel bags that never left their immediate reach.
Two broad-shouldered men flanked the room's main window, their positions chosen for quick escape rather than comfort.
Every face turned toward her and Izei with the same mixture of hope and suspicion that had defined her own interactions with strangers for months. These were her kind of people now, people she hoped she could save some day.
Her attention soon landed on the man seated at the small wooden table near the room's center.
Even seated, his height was obvious, and the breadth of his shoulders spoke to the same warrior build that marked his younger brother.
Dark brown hair. Sun-bronzed skin that suggested years spent outdoors rather than behind a desk.
Green eyes that carried Luka's warmth but with an added weight of responsibility.
This has to be Angus.
He rose from his chair as they entered, his movements carrying the controlled grace of someone accustomed to command but humble enough not to demand attention. Everything about his bearing suggested quiet strength—the kind of leader who earned loyalty through service rather than dominance.
Izei stepped forward, extending his hand with confident authority. "Angus Vael, I presume. Thank you for agreeing to meet with us. I understand the risks you're taking."
"Alpha Callel." Angus clasped Izei's hand firmly. "The risk is worth it if we can prevent more bloodshed."
His gaze shifted to Freesia, and she watched shock ripple across his features—the same expression everyone wore when they realized the last Waverly royal was still breathing.
"Your Majesty." His voice carried genuine reverence as he offered a respectful nod. "I... I know who you are. Please accept my deepest condolences for what happened to your family and your pride three months ago."
The familiar grief clawed at her chest, threatening to drag her under as it always did when someone acknowledged her losses. But she forced herself to remain standing, to keep her voice steady, and to honor the strength her family had died protecting.
Don't break down, she warned herself. Not in front of these people who need to see strength.
"Thank you for that," she managed, her fingers unconsciously tightening around the satchel's strap. "And thank you for being willing to help us find answers."
She could already sense something in Angus's manner that spoke to integrity. This was a man who understood that loyalty meant more than blind obedience.
They settled around the small table, Luka taking the seat beside his brother while Freesia positioned herself where she could maintain visual contact with both the room's occupants and the front entrance. Izei chose the chair that allowed him to monitor the windows and back exit simultaneously.
The reunion between the Vael brothers was affecting in its restraint—no dramatic embraces or emotional declarations, just the quiet satisfaction of two men who had chosen different paths but never stopped caring about each other's welfare.
She could see the way Luka's shoulders relaxed slightly and the subtle softening around his eyes that spoke to relief at finding his brother safe and apparently unchanged by years of serving under Cassian's increasingly volatile leadership.
"Can you give us any information about Cassian?" she asked, cutting straight to the heart of their mission. "His behavior over the past three months, or maybe even the past six months. Anything that seemed off or changed. Any new people he's been aligning himself with."
Angus glanced around the room, clearly uncomfortable with the number of witnesses to their conversation. Every displaced family, every protective guardian, every pair of desperate eyes was focused on their table with the intensity of people who understood that information meant survival.
He leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice.
"Cassian has been... different. More extreme in his views, more rigid in his expectations.
Anyone who isn't in complete agreement with his vision gets punished.
He's been talking about destroying the peace between our species, claiming that jaguars should be the dominant force in Singapore. "
Through the mate bond, Freesia felt Izei's fury building like a storm front—controlled but devastating in its intensity.
"He believes Queen Valeria's treaty was based on deception," Angus continued, his voice heavy with the weight of unwelcome truths. "That it created a world that shouldn't exist."
"So did he admit to destroying the Waverly pride three months ago?" Izei's question carried the lethal quiet of a panther preparing to strike. "To hunting Freesia?"
"Not outright. But it's obvious he's behind it." Angus's jaw tightened. "And he's been working with someone I don't recognize—a tigress. I don't know much about her, but they seem to have an agenda I'm not privy to."
"What tigress?" The question escaped Freesia's lips.
"Her name is Mareth."
The name hit Freesia like a battering ram, stealing the breath from her lungs and sending her tigress into a frenzy of recognition and betrayal.
Her distant cousin. The woman who had spent years studying Waverly history and traditions, who had devoted herself to royal protocols and ceremonies, who had disappeared from court life several years ago after being passed over for succession consideration.
Mareth was working with Cassian.
The implications crashed over her in waves—the insider knowledge that would have been required to orchestrate the attack on the Waverly compound, the understanding of royal security protocols, the intimate familiarity with her family's routines and vulnerabilities.
She helped them kill my family?
"I..." Her voice came out strangled, barely recognizable. "I need to... I don't mean to cut this meeting short, but I feel a bit sick."
The room seemed to spin around her as grief and fury warred in her chest. Everything she thought she knew about that night was crumbling, revealing a betrayal that cut deeper than enemy attacks or political machinations.
Waverly family had participated in the massacre?
Izei was immediately on his feet, his protective instincts overriding everything else as he moved to her side. "Angus, would you be able to stay in touch with us? Help us gather evidence that could link Cassian to the attack on the Waverly pride?"
She saw Angus look toward his brother, and heard Luka's steady voice vouching for their integrity.
"These are good people, Angus. They just want to stop this threat and preserve the peace."
"Yes." Angus's response seemed to come from a great distance. "I can help you."
Relief flickered through her consciousness, but it was overwhelmed by the need to escape, to process, to understand how someone who shared her name could have orchestrated such devastation.
She was already moving toward the door, her legs carrying her on autopilot while her mind reeled with questions and implications.
Behind her, she heard Izei making quick farewells and felt his presence following her toward the safehouse entrance.
The sunlight seemed too bright after the dim interior, and she stumbled slightly as they reached the SUV, Izei's strong hands guiding her into the passenger seat as he sensed her emotional free fall through their bond.
"Let's get you home," he murmured, the word carrying promises of safety and understanding.
Home.
Even through her shock and grief, the concept settled into her chest with surprising warmth. Because that was what Izei's estate was becoming—not just a refuge or a strategic position, but the first place in three months where she could imagine building something lasting.
As the SUV pulled away from the safehouse, carrying them back toward Callel territory, Freesia closed her eyes and let Izei's steady presence anchor her against the storm of betrayal and loss. She had answers now. She just wasn't sure she was strong enough to face what those answers meant.