CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
Even heartbroken, I can't waste time drowning in this mess.
The weight of what Aubrey told me about Jax sits heavy in my chest, but I force myself to move.
My brother—planning to kill our father, to take the crown through violence.
Part of me always knew something was off about Jax, but rebellion?
Murder? The shock of it still makes my head spin.
I find Father in his chambers, already half-dressed for the ceremony. His valet steps back as I enter, and Father waves him away with an impatient gesture. He looks up when I close the door, and I see the same exhaustion in his eyes that I feel in my bones.
"We need to talk." I close the door behind me, my voice rougher than I intend. "It's about Jax."
Father pauses in adjusting his ceremonial sash, his eyebrows lifting slightly. "What about your brother? Is he here early? I thought he wasn't arriving until—"
"He's planning something." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "Today. Something bad."
Father's hands still on the golden fabric. "Knox, what are you talking about?"
Deep breath. Just say it. "He's coming to kill you, Father. To take the crown by force."
The silence that follows is deafening. Father's face goes through a series of expressions—confusion, disbelief, then something that looks almost like pity.
"Son..." He shakes his head slowly. "Where the hell are these accusations coming from? Pre-wedding nerves can make a man imagine all sorts of—"
"This isn't nerves." My hands clench into fists at my sides. "I have reliable information that Jax is planning a rebellion. Today. During the ceremony."
Father's jaw sets in that stubborn line I know too well. "Reliable information from whom?"
Shit. I can't tell him about Aubrey. Not yet. Not when I'm still raw from her betrayal. "Someone I trust."
"Someone you trust more than your own brother?" Father's voice rises slightly. "Knox, listen to yourself. You're talking about treason. About murder."
"I know exactly what I'm talking about." The frustration builds in my chest like a pressure cooker. "You think I'd come to you with this if I wasn't certain?"
"You must be mistaken about your brother's intentions." Father turns away, reaching for his crown. "Jax would never—"
"Jax would." The words come out sharper than I mean them. "He's ambitious, Father. He's always resented that I'm heir. You just refuse to see it."
Father whirls around, his eyes flashing with anger. "That's enough. I won't hear you speak about your brother this way. Not today of all days."
Why won't he listen? "Father, please. I'm begging you to take extra precautions. Double the guard. Change the ceremony location. Something."
"The only thing I'm changing is this conversation." Father's voice goes cold. "Your brother is traveling here to celebrate your wedding, not to commit regicide. The very idea is absurd."
Should I tell him about Aubrey? About how she was working with Jax all along? The thought makes my stomach twist. Watching Father's face crumble when he learns the truth about the woman he welcomed into our family... I can't handle that. Not right now.
"You're being willfully blind," I say instead, desperation creeping into my voice. "You've always favored him. Always made excuses for him."
"And you've always been jealous of him." Father's words hit like a physical blow. "Is that what this is about? Some petty sibling rivalry you're trying to escalate on your wedding day?"
Jealous? The accusation stuns me. "This has nothing to do with jealousy—"
"Doesn't it?" Father steps closer, his voice dropping to that dangerous tone I remember from childhood. "You've never liked that Jax was more charming, more popular with the people. And now you're trying to poison me against him with wild accusations."
"Just... believe me this time." My voice cracks slightly, and I hate myself for it. "Please. When have I ever lied to you?"
Father stares at me for a long moment, and I see something shift in his expression. Not belief—worse. Disappointment.
"I refuse to believe my son is coming to kill me," he says finally. "If you can't prove these accusations, I suggest you focus on your wedding instead of chasing shadows."
Your precious son. The bitter thought claws at my throat. Always your precious son.
I stand there for another moment, watching him dismiss everything I've just said. The man who raised me, who taught me about duty and honor—and he can't see the poison that's been growing in his own family.
"Fine." I turn toward the door, my chest tight with frustration. "But when this goes to hell, remember I warned you."
I don't wait for his response.
The weight of fighting this battle without Father's support settles over me like armor I don't want to wear. If Jax makes his move today, I'll be standing alone.
My feet carry me back to Aubrey's room without conscious thought. Why am I going back there? What's the point? But I can't seem to stop myself.
I find her sitting on the edge of the bed, her face turned toward the window.
The morning light catches the tear tracks on her cheeks, and I notice her wounds are healing—slowly, but healing.
The werewolf blood in her veins working its magic.
She still looks like she needs a healer, though. Still looks fragile.
Stop. Don't think about how fragile she looks.
Her eyes meet mine when I step into the room, and I see the swelling has gone down slightly. Those green eyes that used to make my heart race now just make my chest ache.
"Knox." Her voice is barely a whisper.
I force myself to stay by the door, to keep a distance between us. Stay cold. Stay rational. "The wedding's still happening."
She blinks, clearly surprised. "What?"
"Today. As planned." I cross my arms, using the motion to steady myself. "Not because I've forgiven you—don't mistake this for forgiveness. But if Jax is planning something for today, having the ceremony will draw him out. I need to be ready to confront him."
Using her as bait feels wrong, even after everything. But if it draws Jax out... if it's the only way to protect Father and the kingdom...
Aubrey nods slowly, her gaze dropping to her hands. "I understand."
God, she looks so small sitting there. I clench my jaw, fighting the urge to go to her. Remember what she did. Remember how she played you.
"Good." I study her pale face, feeling that familiar war rage in my chest—anger and heartache taking turns tearing me apart. "Because I need you to understand something else."
She lifts her eyes to mine, and I see the hope there. It makes my stomach turn.
"This is all just an act." The words come out colder than I intend, but maybe that's what I need. "Whatever happens today, whatever we have to do or say—it's not real. Our trust is shattered beyond repair."
The hope dies in her eyes, replaced by something that looks like acceptance. Or maybe defeat. She lowers her head, and I catch the slight tremor in her shoulders.
Don't drape your coat over her shoulders. Don't comfort her. She betrayed your entire family.
"I know," she whispers.
But she was manipulated. She was scared. She—
No. I cut off that line of thinking before it can take root. Explanations don't erase actions. Fear doesn't undo betrayal.
"I need to go." I turn toward the door, needing to get away from her before I do something stupid. How much time do I have? When will Jax make his move? "I have preparations to make."
I don't look back as I walk away, but I can feel her watching me. Can feel the weight of everything broken between us pressing against my shoulders.
Focus on what's coming. Focus on protecting what's left of your family.
Even if that family refuses to see the danger standing right in front of them.