Chapter 4

Four

ASHTON

N ever in a million years did I expect to receive a text from Desiree freaking Harper demanding I Get my ass to school right this second or else I’ll cut off your balls and feed them to you .

I spent the last few hours in my father’s office, poring over all of the details of the case while he watched. Exhaustion clings to me now, and my body feels heavy and leaden. It’s a miracle I can keep my eyelids open for longer than a second at a time.

But as my father always says, our kind doesn’t get tired.

We’re the superior species.

The superior breed.

The superior…everything.

I’m not sure I ever willingly believed his rhetoric, but I also didn’t argue against it. Not as much as I should have.

Dragging a hand down my face, I pause outside of Christian’s door. If anyone were to know where Izzy ran off to, it’ll be him. Even at a young age, my brother made sure to be keenly aware of all of the players on the board. He was like me, in a sense. Constantly studying the game so he could emerge victorious.

It’s ironic that, in the end, he lost so spectacularly.

Christian Montgomery.

I’m surprised I didn’t make the connection sooner. Montgomery is our mother’s maiden name, after all.

An uneasy feeling swirls in my stomach as I hover my knuckles above the door, not daring to knock.

My relationship with my brother… It’s complicated, to put it mildly. Not as volatile as the one between the twins, but definitely not loving either.

We used to be everything to each other, but that changed when Christian was revealed to be a lone wolf and not a member of my pack. He withdrew in on himself—that’s the only word I can think of to use. Withdrew . The fire in his eyes dulled to a burning ember, and his smiles became less and less frequent.

Then, without a word, he disappeared. Father told me he chose to travel deep into the forest in order to protect the community.

I didn’t want to believe it.

Christian wouldn’t leave me behind without even a goodbye, would he?

For years, I imagined something horrible happened to him, and that’s why he left. I read the obituaries every morning with a macabre sort of fascination, searching for any descriptions of my brother.

But there was no need.

He’s alive and well, apparently.

And he didn’t even bother to tell me he was back in town.

Betrayal sinks like a boulder in my gut, but I work to blank my expression.

That’s another thing my father taught me—men in power shouldn’t show their emotions. Because every time they do, the enemy gets another tool to use against them.

Power.

You have all the power here, Ashton.

Not him.

Not her.

Not your father.

You.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I lower my hand and twist the knob, determined to barge right on in.

Locked.

I frown and wiggle it again, but the door refuses to budge.

What the fuck?

Why would Christian lock his door?

Even if he were in a meeting, he wouldn’t lock it. That’s highly inappropriate, especially if he’s with a student.

“Christian?” I tug ineffectually at the knob once more before releasing it with a huff. “What the fuck are you doing? We need to talk about Isabella!”

I fold my arms over my chest as I wait for him to open the door and let me in.

A part of me doesn’t want to see him.

The rest of me wants to run into my big brother’s arms and demand that he take me away from here. Protect me. Tell me that I’m doing an okay job leading my pack.

But that little boy who constantly sought validation died a long time ago. I no longer need my brother to protect or look after me. I can do them both myself.

I no longer have a choice in the matter.

The door opens, and I brace myself, the muscles in my stomach tightening.

But it’s not Christian staring back at me.

It’s Isabella.

Her blue eyes are electric with fury, and red splotches explode on both of her cheeks. There’s a noticeable tremble reverberating through her body as she points an accusatory finger at my chest.

At first, I think something happened. Was she hurt? Is it the killer? Then I fear Christian did something to her—and instantly feel like a piece of shit for having that thought in the first place.

I don’t have to wait too long for an explanation.

“You motherfucker!” she hisses, the noise coming through heavily clenched teeth.

I refuse to let my mask slip. “I don’t believe I fucked any mothers as of late,” I deadpan.

“When were you going to tell me?” She once again jabs a finger at my chest, and a tiny thrill shoots through me at the connection.

Warmth seems to emanate from her, as if she houses an internal fire.

“Tell you what?” I ask.

Now I’m confused. I glance at Christian over her shoulder and arch an eyebrow, but my older brother looks away with a frown.

“Tell me about shifters and witches and mating bonds and Hearts!” Her voice rises in pitch with each consecutive word she says, and I’m suddenly grateful I didn’t spot anyone lingering nearby when I walked through the hallways.

I don’t know how we’d explain a screaming female to the faculty.

Then her words register, and all thoughts of secretaries and principals overhearing us vaporize.

I open my mouth, close it, and then open it again. I can’t find the words to speak. I think this is the first time that has ever happened to me. I’m always eloquent, always articulate, always the first with a quip or a comment to ease the tension.

But not now.

“Care to explain this?” Isabella rolls up her sleeve and thrusts her bicep into my face, and all I can do is gape at her branded skin.

I’ve seen this image more times than I care to admit every time I look in the mirror.

I dip my gaze to my own arm for a fraction of a second before focusing on her—this tiny female full of unfettered energy, violence, and anger. She truly is a hurricane contained in a woman.

“It seems as if you don’t need any explanation,” I say carefully. Slowly. Cautiously.

I feel as if I’m approaching a rabid dog, one that’s foaming at the mouth and snarling. If I move too quickly, she’ll attack, and I’ll feel the full impact of her bite.

“You truly are an asshole. You know that?” Tears well in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall.

They hang there suspended, crystalline shards that refract the artificial lighting in Christian’s office.

“I’ve been told that on more than one occasion.” I cross my arms over my chest as I study my mate intently.

She’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman—strong, fierce, protective of those she cares about, and kind. So, so kind, despite the shit hand she’s been dealt so far in life.

But I can’t have her.

None of us can.

She’s Little Red Riding Hood, and we’re the big, bad, scary wolves intent on chewing her up and spitting her out. What kind of life can she have with us? We’re beasts, monsters, creatures of the night, and she’s…innocent. Pure. Sweet.

I remember my father’s words from only two nights ago. At the time, I hadn’t thought anything of them, but now I can’t help but wonder if he knew, somehow, what Isabella is to us. To me.

“There are humans, and there are monsters,” he says, sipping idly from his teacup. Though his words are addressed to me, he doesn’t look away from the newspaper he’s reading. “And sometimes they overlap.” At that, he lowers the paper and gestures towards an article detailing the sexual assault of a college student. “But if you force a human to play with the monsters, what do you think will happen?” He chuckles, the noise devoid of any genuine mirth. “They’ll have no choice but to become one just to survive.”

He couldn’t have been referring to Isabella, could he?

My father says weird shit all the time—trying to divulge life lessons before I take over the Council for him.

And yet…

I don’t want Isabella to turn into a monster.

This world isn’t safe for her. I’m not safe for her.

What the fuck was Christian thinking telling her the truth?

Idiot.

Maybe he thought he was helping me out. Or maybe his years in the forest fucked with his head.

Either way, he put me in a predicament I’m not sure how to get out of.

Hurt her.

Send her away.

You don’t need her.

You don’t want her.

I clear my throat and push back my shoulders. I tell myself I don’t have a choice. Christian brought Isabella into this mess; I’m the one getting her out of it. I repeat that until I’m blue in the face, but I don’t believe a word of it.

It’s not selflessness driving my actions, but something inherently darker, almost sinister.

“I never intended on telling you the truth,” I tell her blandly, ignoring her sharp intake of breath. “Because I never intended on mating with you. Still don’t, if I’m being completely honest.”

Hurt flickers across her face, there and gone before I can even fully register it. Her lips compress in a straight line, but she doesn’t tell me to stop talking. She doesn’t cry and beg and plead for me to change my mind. She just stares at me with hard blue eyes, a multitude of emotions swarming in their depths.

“AJ…” Christian steps forward, but I hold my hand up to stop my older brother.

“This has nothing to do with you,” I say to him, not bothering to pull my attention off of Isabella.

“He’s right,” Isabella says dryly, still keeping her gaze on me. “It has to do with us. Though… There is no us, is there?”

A lump manifests in my throat. Swallowing it down proves to be impossible. “No.”

“Because you’re…what? Are you rejecting me or something? Is that a thing?”

I will my heart to harden and frost over. It’s the only way I’ll get through this conversation in one piece. Later, when I’m alone, the organ will shatter, but I’ll be the only one who will face the consequences. The only one who will feel the pain of my insides slicing me to ribbons. The only one who will bleed out.

“We don’t want you, Isabella.” I keep my voice cold and my expression neutral.

Even still, she flinches as if I screamed those words at her. I wonder if she picked up on the plurality of my statement. I know I shouldn’t make this decision for my brothers, but they’re so blinded by her charms that they can’t see how dangerous this pairing truly is. For her and for us.

“I don’t know how much you know?—”

“I know enough,” she snaps.

“But you’re human.” I allow my upper lip to curl away from my teeth derisively. “And we’re not.”

“Ashton!” Christian’s voice is sharper than I ever remember hearing it before. Even when he used to scream at Dad over something stupid… He never got this angry. My older brother’s expression is practically thunderous as he glares at me, his hands fisted by his sides. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“This”—I hold up Isabella’s arm so her mating mark catches in the light—“is a mistake.”

“A mistake,” Isabella repeats numbly.

“My pack has already chosen a mate.” God, I just can’t help myself, can I? I need to stab the knife even deeper into her back. Need to make her bleed the way I am. The way my brothers will when they discover what I’ve just done. “We’ll be mated to Desiree after graduation. We chose her.”

I hate myself.

I really, really hate myself.

Isabella stares at me for a long moment, and her eyes glimmer with so much pain that I almost take back the words. But I don’t. Because I’m an asshole and a coward and a leader. I need to do what’s best for my brothers and our mate—even if that means breaking all of our hearts in the process.

Tears well in her eyes, but just like before, they don’t fall. Her lower lip begins to tremble, though, despite her best efforts.

“Desiree?” she rasps out shakily. “As in, my friend Desiree?”

I sneer. “Why do you think she wanted to be friends with you in the first place? No doubt scoping out the competition.”

I know that isn’t the truth—Desiree is as repulsed by us as we are by her and seems oddly entranced by Isabella—but something is broken inside of me. I just want everyone in this world to hurt because maybe that will heal something inside of me.

I’m a sick, twisted bastard.

Never claimed to be anything but.

“I see.” Isabella’s face goes carefully blank.

And I know then that I fucked up. I desperately wish I could take everything back and apologize for what I just said. There’ll be no coming back from this. She’ll never forgive me. My brothers will never forgive me.

Yet I don’t take the words back.

I don’t apologize.

I don’t say anything as she pushes past me and stalks out of the office, her little hands balled into fists and her chest heaving.

Christian stares at me, his eyes brimming with unfettered hatred, and a little piece of me dies inside. Or maybe I’m already dead inside. Who the fuck knows anymore?

“What the hell did you just do?” Christian breathes in horror.

But I don’t have an answer for him.

Because honestly? I don’t know what the hell I just did.

I just pray I made the right decision and my brothers will forgive me in the end.