Chapter 25 #2
I could stand on this Fates-damned table and rip my chest open to show them the Bond and they’d tell me to my face I was making it up.
My reality comes into focus, settling firmly in my bones. The truth is heavy. A weight that doesn’t belong. That I can’t move, no matter how hard I push.
There will be no kindness, no understanding, and no acceptance. This may be the family my Mate chose, but they are not mine.
They never will be.
How very fitting that we’re so close to Salem, because this is nothing but a witch hunt. Every answer I give—every truth I tell—is worthless. They want me to be guilty. Need me to be.
Because if I’m not, then that means they’ll have to look elsewhere for someone to point their fingers at. They don’t have my father. They won’t blame themselves. I’m the most convenient person to blame.
And if they do finally decide to believe me? Then they’ll have to admit that they threw an innocent girl in a cell—their best friend’s Fated Mate. The worse things become, the harder they’ll double down.
So they’ll keep this up until I either confess or I break. Whichever happens first.
My blood and bones weigh me down as reality sinks in. My shoulders slump. My lips gradually stop trembling, and numbness spreads through my limbs.
The Alphas are still laughing and tossing casual insults my way, but their voices sound like static. Everything feels fuzzy and disconnected from reality. Just like in the cell yesterday.
My gaze wanders toward the window. Toward freedom.
The sun glints off a small pond at the back of the property. A small bird swoops off a low-hanging tree branch and skims gracefully over the water, its black feathers a stark contrast against the brightness of the day.
I hate myself for hoping. I hate that I actually thought that if I were honest, they’d see the truth.
Vae’s small kindness with the water lulled me into a false sense of security.
All that pretty hope came crashing down in less time than it took to blink. Fates, I feel stupid. Am I really so desperate for kindness that I allowed a single moment to fool me into believing Vaelenor was more than the male he already proved to be?
As I watch the blackbird perk on a low-hanging branch, I realize I much prefer Daxen’s antagonism over Vae’s false smiles.
At least with Daxen, I know he’s hated me from the start.
There’s no room for misunderstanding with him.
I feel lost. Confused. Like I’ve been thrown into a game, and I don’t know the rules. I want to burrow under a pile of blankets and hide from everything. From them. From the world. From the crushing despondency filling up all the empty cracks in my heart.
I inhale.
Close my eyes.
Exhale.
I’ll have to submit for now. Despite my feelings, I do know how to play this game. I’ve been telling myself exactly that since waking up in a cell.
It was a foolish hope that threw a wrench into things. It was that one moment when Vaelenor steadied my drink. Told me to sip slowly so I didn’t throw up. A split-second of kindness in a world that’s been nothing but cruel to me.
My father was never kind. He never pretended. There were no moments of outright hope—only a thin, fraying wish that he loved me.
Vae fooled me, and I forgot the rules. Misunderstood the game. Hoped, when hope doesn’t exist.
Well. I won’t make that mistake again.
I’m violently wrenched out of my musings by the sudden movement of my chair being hauled backwards. I yelp, gripping the edges of the seat to keep from toppling off.
I look up and see Vae standing in front of me, leaning against the edge of the table with his ankles crossed and a blank look on his face.
“Here’s how it’s going to go.”
I don’t fight my body’s instincts, shrinking down and bracing for what comes next.
“You are not a guest in this house; you are a prisoner. No one trusts you. The only reason you’re not in the cells is because you’re an Omega.”
His reasoning confuses me. I chance glancing up at him questioningly.
What in the world do these males have against Omegas?
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t play stupid, girl. Our instincts won’t let us keep you down there for an extended time.”
“Speak for yourself,” Silas mutters. “I’m fine keeping her in the cells. It’s you and—”
“Enough,” Vae shoots him a withering glare and turns back to me. “You will work when you’re not being questioned.”
He takes a menacing step closer, making me tilt my head back to see his face. This close, I can see the soft gold flecks in his eyes.
My nostrils flare, my Omega trying to catch his scent. It’s instinct, and I don’t even realize I’ve done it until his face twists in repulsion.
“That’s another thing. I’m sure Lenora told you last night, but you will be kept on suppressants at all times. We will also be using descenter, but this is our home, and quite frankly, we shouldn’t have to. It’s your own fault if you can’t control your designation’s instincts.”
“And it’s also my fault if you can’t control yours?”
The words spill out before I can stop them. Silence fills the room, heavy and thick, like the moment before the final swing of a headsman’s blade.
Vae’s face twists with rage. The charming mask shatters, and what’s left isn’t the handsome prince from a storybook. It’s the monster who kidnaps the princess and locks her in his dungeon to rot.
Cage’s grin spreads wide, like he can’t wait to see what Vae’s going to do to me. When Silas takes a threatening step forward, my entire body locks up.
Gods, what was I thinking?
The flame feeding my anger must have a Fates-damned death wish. That little act of defiance wasn’t brave. It was suicide.
I hunch my shoulders toward my ears, and I curl in on myself. I wrap my arms tight around my middle, protecting my stomach the way I learned years ago. I can hear my heart pounding, and my already dry mouth fills with the metallic taste of terror.
The longer Vae stays silent, the worse it gets.
My stomach rolls. My lips tremble. I’m going to pass out.
There’s movement in my periphery.
Vae’s hand. Rising.
I flinch so violently that I almost fall off the chair. I squeeze my eyes shut tight and curl in tighter, wishing I could just disappear. I know it’s best to relax. Just let it happen. Stay still and take my punishment so it ends faster.
But I never mastered the ability not to react when I know pain is coming.
I wait for the blow to land, barely audible whimpers of fear morphing into keening Omega whines.
Please, let it be over quick.
The pain never comes.
Instead, there’s a soft thud.
I crack one eye open and see Vae’s hand. It’s resting on the edge of the table, palm flat, fingers spread.
He… he didn’t hit me.
Cautiously—so, so cautiously—I lift my gaze. Vaelenor’s other hand is in his hair, running it through his messy auburn locks. Pushing them back, out of his face.
He hadn’t been about to hit me.
He was just… frustrated?
I let out a shaky breath. My muscles unclench slowly, one at a time. I place my hands on my thighs, but I don’t relax. Just because he didn’t hit me this time doesn’t mean he won’t eventually.
I let myself be tricked into believing there’s kindness in this male once.
I know better, now.
Emotion flashes across Vaelenor’s face so fast I nearly miss it, but it looks like… regret?
Horror?
Then it’s gone. And once again, I wonder if I imagined it.
He looks strained—like he wants to say something but won’t let himself voice it. His hand flexes around the edge of the table, and he takes a small, deliberate step back. When he finally continues his list of rules, his voice is rougher than before.
“You will be questioned every day. I suggest you get used to telling the truth or come up with more believable lies. When you’re not meeting with one of us, you’ll work. Cleaning, laundry rotation, whatever other soul-sucking bullshit we want you to do.”
He clears his throat again. Looks away. A muscle flutters along his jaw, then he refocuses on me.
“You will do what we say, when we say it. If I tell you to clean my weapons, you clean them. If Silas tells you to scrub the floor with a toothbrush while we walk across it, you keep your mouth shut and scrub.”
His voice is steadier, now. More sure of himself.
“If we demand it, you’ll serve us our coffee with a smile and a ‘Yes, sir’ like a good little Omega. Clear?”
I nod.
“You’ll report to your room by 10 p.m. every night for your suppressant shot, unless specifically stated otherwise.”
I can’t help flicking my gaze toward Cage, curious about his role. So far, I’m not convinced he’s anything more than decoration specializing in derogatory looks and unhelpful commentary.
Vae follows my gaze, and an awful, mean smirk tugs at his lips.
It looks so… wrong on his handsome face.
“Cage is here to guard you. You do what he tells you to do, unless one of us says otherwise. You will not run from us, steal from us, or talk to anyone unless it’s to answer a direct question. And you will not bat those big Omega lashes to get your way.”
“Got it,” I whisper.
“If you’re lying to us—”
“Of course she’s lying to us,” Cage scoffs.
With slow, controlled movements, Vae turns to face the younger male. He looks like a predator scenting blood. I can’t stop the shiver that works down my spine.
“Are you speaking, or am I?”
Cage swallows, fear flashing across his expression. His eyes flick to me. When he sees I’m watching, he quickly schools his features.
“You are.”
“Then shut your fucking mouth, and stop interrupting.” Vae never raises his voice, which makes his words even scarier. When he turns back to me, I feel Cage’s glare burning into me. I don’t want to look at him, but I do.
Cage’s expression is boiling with rage. He doesn’t hide his feelings. His lip curls menacingly, showing off a single sharp fang. A clear reminder of what he is.
As if I could ever forget.