CIAN
"Nothing I didn’t construct." I went back to applying the cream. "Rumors have a powerful effect on most."
"The thing is..." She paused. Took a breath. "I was dishonest. Yes. But I was tricked by Isobel and Hazel. Because neither Hazel or Milo ran away."
I said nothing. I just kept working on her arm.
"I know you must know there are holes in their story," she said, voice steady, even though her gaze trembled. "But your pride and misdirected anger won’t let you admit it. Your hate too."
I didn’t respond at first. The words stung, but not because they were wrong. I finished applying the cream to her swollen welts and screwed the cap shut, placing the tube neatly on the counter. I still hadn’t let go of her wrist. Her pulse was frantic under my fingertips.
"Silver Creek doesn’t seem like a place where tyranny rules," I said finally. "That’s why I chose your pack for my marriage. If this Milo is dead, it must be because of something he did, and judging by the company he kept..."
"Hazel is good at manipulating," she interrupted, softer this time, like she was speaking more to herself than to me. "She did something. I don’t know what. But Milo was coming to save me. He was coming to tell you the truth. And Hazel couldn’t let that happen. It would implicate her. That is why Milo is dead."
I felt her wrist twitch under my hold, and without realizing it, I loosened my grip. Then, I let go entirely.
I leaned back against the vanity, arms crossing over my chest in a way I hoped looked detached. Unbothered. But inside, something twisted. Unsettled.
"Why do you care about a man who betrayed you?" I asked. "Most would rejoice at his death."
She didn’t hesitate, just lowered her gaze to her hands, fingers brushing over the cream still glistening on her skin. "I needed him," she whispered. "Maybe this is my fault."
Her voice was small. Fragile. It made my chest tighten as though something inside me was being crushed by an unseen hand. The mate bond flared in response, surging with instinctive need—to reach out, to soothe, to gather her close and promise she was safe.
I shut it down. Hard. Like slamming a door in the face of a raging storm. The bond reeled but didn’t disappear. It pulsed behind the barrier I’d built, loud and insistent, flooding my veins with heat and ache until it felt impossible to ignore.
But I did. I hid it well. She couldn’t know what it was doing to me, that I was one breath away from abandoning logic and letting my guard fall.
She was still a liar. Still a deceiver. And no matter how much the bond wanted her, I couldn’t let myself forget that.
But I also did not want her sad.
"That wouldn’t have saved you," I said at last, breaking the heavy silence between us.
Fia’s head lifted, her eyes clouded with confusion.
"Even if he had come," I continued, "even if he’d told me everything, you still willingly participated in deceit against me. Even if it was for what you think was a right reason." I let the words settle like cold ash between us. "If he had come, did you think I would have let you go?"
The blood drained from her face.
"Don’t blame yourself too much," I went on. "Put your mind to better use. Like getting ready to meet my mother tonight."
"Your mother?" she echoed, stunned.
"A worried mind will only compromise your immune system further. Especially for an omega. And I can’t have that."
I turned and walked to the door before she could respond, before the bond could tear through my shields and drag something tender out of me. Something I didn’t want her to hear.
My hand hovered over the doorknob when her voice came, quiet and resigned.
"You don’t believe me."
It wasn’t a plea. Just truth.
I didn’t answer. I opened the door and stepped out, closing it harder than necessary. The sound echoed down the empty hallway.
I leaned against the wall, exhaling. The bond was still there, loud and pounding in my chest.
I pulled out my phone, needing something, anything, to steady the storm twisting inside me. The bond would not go quiet, so I focused on the screen instead and scrolled to Ronan’s contact. My thumb hesitated for just a second, then I tapped.
He picked up on the second ring.
"What do you need, Cian?" His voice was sharp, curious.
"I need you to look into someone," I said, forcing my tone to stay level. "A sentinel in Silver Creek. His name is Milo."
There was a beat of silence on the other end. Then Ronan’s tone shifted, cautious.
"Why are you digging into Silver Creek?"
"Just do it."
"Is this about that girl?"
"Ronan," I warned.
"Do not tell me you’re softening for her," he said, half-amused, half-disbelieving.
My jaw tensed. I could feel the phone digging into my palm, my grip tightening as if I could grind his doubt into dust just by holding on harder.
"Just shut up and do it," I snapped, and ended the call before he had the chance to say anything else.
I shoved the phone back into my pocket and stared at the closed door of the Luna suite. Through the bond, Fia’s emotions seeped through—no longer raw or defensive. Just quiet. Resigned. Like she never expected anything different from me in the first place.
Like she had already accepted that I would not believe her.
I pushed off the wall and walked away, each step putting distance between me and that room. Between me and the truth I was too stubborn to consider.
My wolf was restless, pacing circles in the back of my mind. Its low growl echoed louder than my thoughts, furious and unmet.
I told it to shut up.
It did not listen.
It did not seem to anymore.