Chapter 36 #2
“Oh, and another thing. My bracelet doesn’t work on your Omega. No matter what she says, it doesn’t react. Thought you might want to know.”
With that, he leaves, letting the door click shut behind him.
I tunnel my hands through my hair. I’m not even going to touch on the last fun fact he threw at me, but… fuck. Maybe he’s onto something. Maybe I need to go shower this day away, then sit down with Vae and actually talk to him.
Riven’s right about one thing. We’re both using unhealthy coping mechanisms. It’s past time we stop acting like teenagers too afraid to admit we have actual emotions.
I take Riven’s advice. Drink a few bags, pour another glass of whiskey, take a long shower, and try to wash away the stress of the day—the tension, worries, and regrets.
I don’t have much luck with the regrets. Those seem to be sticking around for a while.
Now I’m lounging in our pack’s personal den, nursing a glass of watered down booze. The damn ice melted a half hour ago, but I don’t feel like exchanging it for a new pour. The place is quiet. Silas and Gav are out on patrol, Riven is gone, and the staff are all sleeping over at the compound.
I assume the Omega is sleeping, too. At least, she better be. Now that I’ve showered I have no plans to reapply descenter again tonight.
The door creaks open behind me, but I don’t bother turning around. I already know who it is by their scent.
Crushed black pepper, old leather, and wild clove. It rises to mix with mine—cedar, smoke and cold stone—perfectly, blending the way only the scents of a Fated pack can.
It is how we knew, all those centuries ago, that we were meant to be packmates. Like a Fated Mate Bond, but brotherly rather than romantic.
And Fates… I miss the comforting scent of my pack around me. Our wing in HQ still smells like a blend of the three of us. It’s the only place that does.
I wonder how weird it would be if I tore through Caelan’s room for dirty laundry and shove it between the couch cushions so his scent doesn’t fade.
“You know,” Vae’s voice echoes lazily around the room, “I was coming to see if you were alright, but finding you sitting in the dark with an empty bottle of whiskey and a shitty attitude pretty much answered that question.”
I snort. “Bold of you to assume this isn’t how I relax now.”
Vae drops down onto the opposite end of the couch. Chest bare, black joggers hanging low on his hips, hair still damp from the shower, and curling slightly at the ends, the way he hates.
He stretches across me, clicking on the light of the side lamp.
“Damn, that’s better.”
He relaxes into the cushions, legs wide, arms sprawled across the back of the couch. “I know we’re vampires, but for fucks sake, you don’t need to make tall, dark, and broody your whole personality.”
I give him a soft smile, then pour the last bit of the whiskey into a glass and pass it to him. “You don’t have to do that, you know.”
Vae arches a brow, white teeth flashing in the low light. “Do what?”
I stand, taking my now-empty glass to the built-in bar and placing it into the sink. With my back to him, I shrug.
“Turn everything into a joke. Act like things are fine when we both know they’re not. Pretend like you’re not just as terrified as I am.”
I turn, knowing I need to face him for this.
Placing my palms flat on the countertop, I lean back and wait.
He doesn’t answer at first, placing the glass down gently and clasping his hands loosely between his knees.
Eventually he exhales, squaring his shoulders like this might turn into a battle and he has to brace himself.
“Yeah,” he raises his eyes to meet mine. “Well, someone has to.”
I hate that he thinks that. I hate that he’s taken on this role when no one asked him to. Hate that he thinks it’s his responsibility to stop both of us from falling apart while Caelan’s down.
Most of all, I hate how obvious is it is that he thinks I’m so far gone I need to be handled with kid gloves.
Me.
”I’m not a child, Vae,” I say, jaw clenched with irritation. “I get why you’re doing it. I do. But you don’t need to turn everything into a comedy set just because things aren’t clean and easy for once.”
I take a step forward, meeting his eyes so he knows I mean what I’m saying. “Caelan will be fine.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment. His eyes flick to the side.
His tell.
It is so quick I almost miss it, but on top of it, his scent—singed around the edges with uncontained anxiety—betrays him.
“I know that.” He grinds the words through his teeth. Snagging a pillow, he hugs it to his chest and deeper into the couch.
Right now, despite his age, despite the centuries of wars and training and rank, he looks so much like the kid I first met centuries ago during Bastards training.
The kid who showed up one day full of rage after decades of fighting against his very nature.
The kid drowning in the betrayal of knowing he’d been sacrificed by his own parents.
The kid carrying a secret and a Curse too big for his shoulders.
Searching desperately for a way to balance the scales with all the internalized self-loathing of a male forced to commit unspeakable acts against his will.
The one who trusted no one, including—especially—himself.
The one who turned to Caelan and me for guidance. Who cried when we discovered our Fated Bonds found his pack. Who looked to us for answers, terrified he’d make the wrong choice and hurt us when he lost control of his Curse.
I blink, and he’s this Vae again—my brother forged through blood and Bonds and love. The brother Fate gave me, knowing he needed me. Knowing I needed him even more.
His head falls back dramatically. Vae never could handle the weight of heavy silence. It makes him twitchy.
His throat bobs, and when he looks at me his eyes are full of pain.
“You almost killed the omega, Dax. You almost ripped her throat out. You turn into a different person around her. You’ve always been a hard ass—cutting, logistical, intelligent. You see the truth, and you act accordingly. That’s why I’ve never questioned you.”
He shrugs. His eyes move to the floor as he admits, “Never had to. And I won’t lie to you, most of the time it’s a relief. Especially when I don’t feel like I have control, because I know you always do.”
“But…” I know he’s not finished and finds myself bracing for his reply.
“But,” he echoes, lips twitching in dry acknowledgement of my correct assumption that he wasn’t done with his thought. The smirk that usually follows doesn’t come. Instead, his lips tighten until his mouth firms into a grim line of determination.
“But…you make me feel like a fucking traitor for not wanting to live in that dark headspace with you. Maybe you don’t mean to make me feel that way, but you do. The way you act does. It’s not like you. It’s extreme and cruel and single-minded.”
His fingers fidget restlessly, tapping out a rhythm against the pillow pressed tight to his chest. My palms start to sweat and I try to come up with something to say but I can’t.
“I don’t like the male you are when she’s around you,” he adds, oblivious to the way each accusation slams into me like a brick to the gut.
“There’s a reason Gav banned you from being alone with her that first day.
You don’t act like yourself. This isn’t who you are.
Or maybe it is, but it’s such a small part of you we never see it and now it’s in the spotlight. ”
Fuck. I knew he’s been having an internal crisis over the female, but I didn’t realize it was affecting him this much. Doesn’t he see how manipulative she is?
I’m not treating her any different than I’d treat anyone else in her position, so where is this ‘it’s not you,’ bullshit coming from?
I mean, yeah, maybe what I’m a little more pissed than normal. Part of that is because it’s so hard to reconcile the fact that something so small and defenseless and soft was able to cause as much damage as she did.
I don’t understand how she betrayed someone like Caelan so easily. Caelan, who never lets anyone in, ever. How was she able to fool him? How did she convince him to choose her? It’s almost like it was easy for him to ignore my warnings.
It’s like she put him under a fucking spell or something. He fell right into her trap with a smile and I can’t wrap my head around any of it.
“I just can’t understand how an Omega—a weak, defenseless human Omega—could do what she did to Caelan,” I admit on a sigh, putting voice to my thoughts.
Vae frowns so I try to explain.
“It’s like… I see her, right? I look at her, and when I think about how she lied and tricked him, this red haze takes over.
I’m just constantly full of rage around her.
I almost feel…” I hesitate, not sure I want to admit this next part out loud.
It’s a feeling I’ve barely even acknowledged to myself.
“Feel what?” Vae presses.
I bite my lip, conflicted. He leans in, looking at me with pleading eyes. He looks lost, and that alone breaks through my defenses. I can’t hold back now, not when I’ve already admitted that we need to talk honestly about our feelings.
”Betrayed.”
Vae’s brows fly into his hairline but I keep going.
“It feels like a betrayal, Vae. And not because she betrayed Caelan. It feels like she betrayed me, specifically. My instincts are registering the betrayal almost like it’s a rejection, which is outrageous but true.
My Alpha refuses to accept that she nearly cost us Caelan.
Refuses to accept such a blatant rejection of our pack. But my head… my head knows the truth.”
I tunnel my hands through my hair in frustration and not a little embarrassment.
“It’s ludicrous. I don’t even know her. Never met her before dragging her out of that house. And yet, every time she’s near I’m fucking furious because I feels like she—she—I don’t know!” I throw my arms up in exasperation, pissed that I can’t find the words to explain.