Chapter 144

I found them in the courtyard behind our home.

It was a modest space, enclosed by a low stone wall and shaded by an old tree that dropped purple blossoms onto the packed earth. I had come looking for Veylan, worried when he hadn’t returned to our chambers, and instead I found them both. Two wolves standing three arm lengths apart in the moonlight, the space between them heavy with years of silence.

Eryx saw me first. He didn’t call out, didn’t beckon me closer. He simply met my eyes and shook his head once, a small, subtle warning to stay away. To let this happen.

I retreated to the shadows of the kitchen garden, crouching behind a barrel of rainwater where I could see without being seen. My heart hammered against my ribs, loud enough that I was certain they must hear it, but neither wolf turned. They were too focused on the gulf between them, too occupied with the careful, dangerous work of bridging it.

"You followed me," Veylan said. His voice was flat, empty of the anger I’d expected. He sounded tired, bone deep exhausted, as though he’d been running for days and had finally reached the end of his strength.

"I’ll always follow you," Eryx replied. He sat on the stone bench, his knees drawn up, his arms wrapped around them, making himself small in a way I’d never seen from him before. "Even when you walk away. Even when you tell me to stop. I’ll follow you until you either forgive me or kill me, because those are the only two outcomes I can live with."

Veylan’s ear twitched. "Don’t be dramatic."

"I’m not being dramatic." Eryx turned to face his brother, and the movement was jerky, desperate. "I’m being honest. For the first time in my life, I’m being completely, utterly honest. I was a coward, Veylan. I was a coward when they cast you out, and I’ve been a coward every day since, and I’m done. I’m done being afraid of him. I’m done being the good son, the obedient heir, the spineless ..."

"I never asked you to do this." Veylan’s voice cut through the air, sharp as a blade. He turned now; his silver eyes filled with frustration. "I never asked you to defy him. I never asked you to play the martyr. I never asked you to ruin your life for me."

"Ruin my ..." Eryx laughed, and the sound was broken, disbelieving. "Is that what you think this is? Martyrdom? Ruin?" He scrambled to his feet, closing the distance between them, and Veylan tensed but didn’t retreat. "Veylan, don’t you understand? You are an important part of my life. The moment you were born was my greatest joy, to have a little brother I could bond with. All the other siblings are out for blood and only want to be selfish. When they took you from me, they took everything. I’ve been walking around for years as a hollow thing, a puppet dancing on father’s strings, and I didn’t even realize I was dead inside until I saw you again. Until you saved me from the attack by the stonehorn, the moments you laugh and let yourself get comfortable. Until you remembered."

Veylan’s jaw tightened. "I remember too much. That’s the problem."

"Then tell me what to forget." Eryx reached out, his hand hovering in the air between them, afraid to touch and be rejected. "Tell me what to burn away. Tell me what penance to pay, what price will balance the scales, because I will pay it. I’ll pay anything." His voice cracked, dropped to a whisper. "Would you like me to die? Is that what it would take? Because if you told me right now that my death would erase what I did, that it would make you whole again, I would walk into the forest and not stop until I found a beast that could end me."

Veylan stared at him.

For a long moment, neither of them moved. The wind shifted, carrying the scent of cookfires and jasmine from the main house.

"That," Veylan said slowly, "is the stupidest thing you have ever said."

Eryx blinked. "What?"

"Die?" Veylan’s voice rose, gaining heat, gaining life. "You think I want you to die? You think I’ve spent years nursing my hatred just to watch you throw yourself away like some tragic hero?" He surged forward, grabbing Eryx by the front of his shirt, shaking him. "I don’t want you to die, you absolute idiot. I want ..." He stopped, his hands trembling where they gripped the fabric. "I want you to have been brave when it mattered. I want you to have stood beside me. I want ..." He released Eryx and turned away, his shoulders heaving. "I don’t know what I want. That’s the truth of it. I don’t know if I can forgive you. I don’t know if I want to. I don’t know if letting you close again will just give you the chance to hurt me more."

Eryx sat back on the stone bench, his face pale, his breathing ragged. "Then tell me what you do know."

Veylan was silent for a long time. The stars began to emerge, pinpricks of light in the darkening sky. Behind me, through the open kitchen window, the residence hummed with life, dinner preparations, children laughing, the ordinary miracle of a home that functioned despite the storms within its walls.

"I know," Veylan said finally, "that you stood in that courtyard and told our father no. I know you chose me over your birthright. I know ..." He paused, and when he spoke again, his voice was so quiet I almost missed it. "I know you’re the only family I have left."

Eryx went very still. "Veylan ..."

"Give me time." Veylan turned back to face him, and his eyes were wet, reflecting the first stars. "I need time to sort things out. To figure out if I can trust this. If I can trust you." He swallowed hard. "But ..."

"But?"

Veylan reached out, his hand hovering over Eryx’s where it rested on the stone bench. For a moment, he hesitated. Then, slowly, deliberately, he let his hand come to rest on top of his brother’s.

"Brother," he said.

Eryx made a sound, half sob, half laugh, and turned his hand over, threading his fingers through Veylan’s, gripping tight enough to bruise.

"Brother," he repeated, as though it were a prayer. "Brother, brother, brother."

They sat like that as the night deepened, two wolves holding hands in the courtyard, and I crept away from my hiding place with tears streaming down my face, knowing I’d witnessed something sacred. Something broken being made whole.

---

The northern wolves left at dawn.

I watched them go from the window of my chambers, Drevan striding ahead with his spine rigid and his pride wounded, Raevor following behind with his head bowed, neither of them looking back at the residence where their sons had chosen to stay.

I wanted to know more. The curiosity burned in my chest like a coal, what had Drevan meant? Who is Liana? What power did he hold over Raevor? I wanted to demand answers, forcing the truth into the light where it could be examined and understood.

But then I thought of Veylan’s face when he’d said brother. I thought of the fragile, newborn trust between them, and decided not to. If we’re meant to find out, the truth will come to light. There is no secrets in the world. and lets hope it’s the same concept in this world as well.

I turned away from the departing wolves and went to find my mate.

---

The celebration began at midday.

It was not, strictly speaking, a planned event, more of a spontaneous overflow of joy that couldn’t be contained. Lizarah’s son, Lorian, had returned from his father’s tribe in the eastern forests, and he’d brought his father Keedan with him.

The celebration had begun as soon as they crossed the threshold, Lizarah embracing her mate after months of separation, Laurelli hanging back with a shy smile that belied her usual confidence. I watched from near the refreshment tables, happy for them, happy for the joy that seemed to fill the room.

"You must be Krystina." A voice behind me, smooth as velvet and twice as dark. "The ape beast who tamed the while Aureon."

I turned to find a panther standing there, a male, taller and broader, with black fur that seemed to absorb the light and eyes the color of molten gold. He was dressed in the leather and silk, adorned with silver that chimed softly when he moved. This was Lorian, Lizarah’s son, returned from his father’s people.

"I didn’t tame anyone," I laughed, accepting the cup of wine he offered. "He tamed himself. I’m just ... along for the ride."

"Clever answer." Lorian smiled, and it was a predator’s smile, all teeth and intention. "I’m Lorian, Lizarah’s son. And you ..." He took my hand, lifting it to his lips without asking permission, his eyes never leaving mine. "You are exactly as beautiful as they said."

I pulled my hand back, startled. "I think you have me mistaken for ..."

"I don’t make mistakes." Lorian stepped closer, invading my space with the confidence of a man who had never been told no. He glanced back at his parents, at his sister, with something like dismissal before turning his full attention back to me. "I saw you from across the room, and I thought, there she is. The one I’ve been waiting for." His gaze traveled over me, appraising, claiming. "Tell me, Krystina. Does Aureon know how lucky he is? Does he appreciate you properly? Because I can assure you, if you were mine, I would spend every moment of every day proving my gratitude."

I opened my mouth to respond, to tell him he was being inappropriate, that I was mated to six already, that his attention was unwelcome, but before I could speak, a shadow fell between us.

Aureon.

He’d appeared from nowhere, silent as smoke, his handsome face dark with anger, his teeth bared in a snarl that would have sent a lesser man running.

"Step away from my mate," he said, his voice low and deadly. "Now."

Lorian didn’t step back. If anything, his smile grew wider, more challenging. "Ah. Aureon. You’ve gotten uglier since the last time I saw you." He looked from Aureon to me and back again, unbothered by the scene he was creating. "Tell me. Do you plan to fight for her? Because I should warn you, panthers don’t lose."

From across the room, I saw Lizarah’s face drain of color, her hand going to her throat in horror. Beside her, Laurelli had gone rigid, her eyes blazing with fury at her younger brother’s blatant disrespect. Keedan looked between his son and his queen, confusion giving way to dawning anger.

Aureon’s hand found mine, his grip tight and certain. "Neither do I," he said. "Not anymore."

The conversations had stopped. The laughter had died. What should have been a celebration of reunion had become something else entirely, a battlefield drawn in invisible lines across the floor. I looked at Aureon, at the tension coiled in his shoulders, at the way his eyes had gone flat and dangerous, and I knew. This was no longer a party. This was the moment before the storm broke.