14. Chapter 14
Arwen
Dinner is… tense. I’m lucky I made it to dinner at all considering how many times they both dropped by my room to check on the progress of my healing.
But now, every small sound feels too sharp—the clink of silverware, the shift of a chair. The room itself is opposite the mood. Dim lighting, rich textures, a table set with more food than three people could reasonably eat.
I sit between them and immediately regret every life choice that led me here. It’s awkward.
Maddox lounges with one arm hooked over the back of his chair, posture loose, like he’s relaxed.
He’s not. I can feel it. His attention keeps snapping back to me. Checking if I’m still here. Still real. Still breathing.
I send him a polite smile.
Atticus, on the other hand, sits like we’re at a suffocating formal dinner. His back is straight, movements precise, and every inch of him still controlled. It’s at odds with the cave dweller look he is sporting after our weeks of imprisonment.
The look on his face… it’s painfully obvious neither of them like each other.
At all.
And I’m… stuck in the middle. The center of attention.
Can I go back to being invisible now?
Maddox sets his fork down, and his gaze lands on me, out of patience. “Start at the beginning.”
I pick at the edge of my plate, buying myself a second. “Straight to it, huh?”
It’s not like I don’t want to tell him. It’s just that so much has happened that I feel overwhelmed and I don’t know if I’m in the mental state to keep it together.
His expression softens, feeling my obvious discomfort. “You disappeared. No trace of you in the Wastes. Then you show up in a helicopter with him. Looking like that.”
I exhale, trying to sort through what to say.
“I wasn’t exiled,” I say, sighing. “Greed intercepted the transport.”
I can see the wheels turning in Maddox’s dark eyes. “Blaise. You’re saying Councilor Blaise had you this whole time? He did that to you?”
I nod once.
Maddox snaps, pushing back from the table, dragging a hand down his face before letting out a harsh roar and slamming his fist on the table.
“That greedy, power-hungry…” he cuts himself off, jaw clenching hard enough I can see the muscle tick. “He’s dead.”
He stands, pacing like he needs to burn off the energy before it explodes out of him.
“I’ve had people combing the Wastes for over a month,” he says, voice rising despite himself. “Every contact, every crew, every favor I could call in. Looking for you. And he had you this entire time.”
I blink.
He did what?
I shift in my seat, very aware of the weight of that. Of him. Of this bond that keeps pulling me toward him, whether or not I want it to.
Do I want it to?
I swallow, trying to keep my voice steady. “Well… you can call them off. I’m clearly not in the Wastes.”
Maddox stops pacing and looks at me like he’s trying to decide if he’s relieved or furious or both.
“Clearly,” he mutters. “But Wastes or not, you weren’t safe,” he grits out, motioning at my body.
Atticus finally speaks, his tone calm but edged. “It would seem Councilor Blaise took it upon himself to act outside of Council authority.”
“That’s one way to put it,” Maddox shoots back, dropping back into his chair but not relaxing. “Another would be that he kidnapped her and beat her… for what?”
I stare at the table, trying to hide the shame. I haven’t even tried to reach for my power since the lab.
Defective.
That’s what rings in my head. Admitting it out loud will confirm Maddox’s permanent tie to a defective bond.
Maddox must feel my shame because he looks at me questioningly, the threat of violence in his eyes. I know it’s not towards me, but he looks like he’s ready to burn the world down.
Atticus’s hand tightens where it rests near mine, like he wants to reach out but stops himself.
“Whatever his reasoning,” Atticus says, “this will have consequences.”
I give him a soft look, appreciating his discretion.
Maddox huffs a short, humorless laugh. “Obviously. And what was your part in this, Willshire? Watch your bond be tortured?”
Dangerous heat fills the room as Atticus jumps to his feet. Hands fisted.
Before either of them can escalate further, the door opens and Lucas steps in, posture sharp, eyes flicking to me before settling on Maddox.
“Your father is requesting a meeting.”
Maddox goes still for half a second, then exhales through his nose.
“Of course he already knows,” he mutters.
Atticus straightens. “Your father is here?”
Maddox gives him a look like that’s a stupid question. “We’re in Feastwell. Our capital. Of course he’s here. You were just lucky I was too, or you’d likely be trading one cell for another.”
Feastwell.
The name hits me sideways.
This is Tabby’s home.
Just the name of her hometown hits me like a punch to the gut.
My friends. It feels like it’s been years since I’ve seen them. Like a different life.
Atticus’s voice cuts through my thoughts, sharp. “And you think she’s safe with him here?”
Maddox’s expression hardens. “There is no version of reality where anything happens to her under my watch.”
The words land like a strike, and I feel Atticus tense beside me at the implication.
She got hurt under yours.
Atticus explodes into motion, a blur of controlled fury that crosses the room in two strides.
He slams into Maddox, the impact sending them both stumbling back a step with a sickening thud of bodies colliding.
Before the sound even fades, Lucas’s gun is drawn, the cold click of the safety echoing in the sudden silence as he levels it at Atticus’s heart.
“Stop!” I demand, heart in my throat.
The room goes very, very still as Lucas slowly puts away his gun.
I push back my chair so hard it scrapes loudly against the marble floor, standing tall even if I only reach their chests.
“Will you both put your dicks away already?” I snap, glaring between them.
“Seriously. Atticus, this is a massive upgrade from where we just were,” I continue, gesturing vaguely. “I’m alive. I’m not being tortured. We just got here and we don’t have a lot of options.”
Neither of them speaks.
I cross my arms, forcing my voice to steady. “I’m not exactly eager to get thrown into the Wastes right away or experience the pain of the bond separation again. So maybe we don’t start killing each other before we get the chance to sleep and figure out what Councilor West’s intentions are.”
Atticus exhales, running a hand through his hair before stepping back.
“Fine,” he mutters, though he still looks like he’d very much like to hit something.
Probably Maddox.
He turns and walks out without another word. The door slams shut behind him, harder than necessary.
Definitely Maddox.
Maddox’s tension is still coiled tight in his shoulders, watching the door. When he looks at me, something in his expression softens.
“I won’t be gone long,” he says, quieter now. “I’ll make the meeting quick.”
The gentle tone melts me a little but still feels foreign coming from him.
“Lucas will take you back to your room when you’re done.” He hesitates for half a second longer, then walks out.
Even with him gone, with his proximity, the bond is still there.
Loud. Demanding attention.
And I still don’t know what to do with it.