Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Agnar

Even before he saw the bewilderment on the face of the poor guard who had been at the gate and received the courier and signed for the package, Agnar's pulse accelerated. It was unusual to have someone knock on their cabin door first thing in the morning who wasn't Castor, Briar May, or Prairie Rose's parents.

It was a week since he'd gone to Casper and had his new braces made, but he hadn't quite made an effort to reach out. He still hadn't walked the boys to school or collected them at the end of the day, but he was always waiting for Prairie Rose the minute she stepped back into the cabin in the morning. They were quiet at night, usually because he slapped his hand over Prairie Rose's mouth or balled up her underwear and stuffed them between her teeth to muffle the sounds, but during the day they didn't have to worry about the boys overhearing them.

He didn't know calm or gentle, He loved like a stormy sea and Prairie Rose was the shore.

He didn't want to receive the box, but he didn't have a choice. He took it and the guard went back to his shift at the gate, leaving Agnar standing there. His pulse kept climbing just holding the damn thing. It was clean and white. Too clean. Too pristine. Too white. There was no smell, but Rome would have been careful about that. He would have packaged whatever was in there, whatever body parts he'd chosen to send as proof the job had been done, in scent trapping packaging. If that shit was good enough to fool drug sniffing dogs, it was good enough to get past the Nightfall guards and delivered straight into his hands.

Agnar Phaethon and Prairie Rose Nightfall.

The fucking bastard put both their names on the box.

He tried to escape from the cabin, get that box the hell away from Prairie Rose before she could see it, but she was too fast. She was already there, sensing a disturbance in the air, a change in him. She'd come immediately. She placed a hand at his back, no doubt feeling the way he trembled. Not even her touch or her clean, fresh scent could still the horror he felt. It was like being thrust straight back to that day of smoke and darkness and carnage.

"Agnar? What is that?"

"Nothing," he forced out, swallowing the acid climbing up the back of his throat. "Something for Kieran. They brought it to me by mistake."

"No. Those are our names on it." Her eyes flew to his face, and she paled after pointing at the box. It was stamped across the top and had a courier label on the side. It had actually been sent legit and not delivered via some shady messenger Rome found on the fucking dark web. "What is it? You know, don't you?"

"I have an idea, and it's not for you to see. It's from your brother."

She frowned. The way he was on edge clearly set her on edge. Her left eye twitched. "Which brother? Ugh, this is so like the twins. If this is some kind of sick joke, I'll—"

"Rome."

"Rome?" She stumbled back, but kept her hand anchored to him.

Her nails bit through his cotton t-shirt. Even in the fucked-up moment, those little crescent shapes indented in his flesh made his dick absurdly hard in his fatigues.

"What would Rome send us?"

"I need to get this to Kieran."

"No!" She crossed her arms, stubborn as hell when she wanted to be. Far more stubborn than he could be, he was learning, but her digging in was for what she believed was the best. "You're not taking anything there. You're not leaving here until you answer me. What did you and Rome do? What did you make Rome do?'

"You know your brother, and you know that no one can make him do anything."

Her throat worked convulsively as she blinked rapidly. "I want to see what's in the box." She didn't, but she was trying to be brave. Trying to face the hard parts of her life at his side. He'd brought this to her. This and all the troubles. Her life must have been so simple before Castor. Before Pollux. Before Rome.

They couldn't go back. They were all connected. They were all tied by strands to each other, to events beyond their control. How many more were yet to come? How many terrible and painful and how many joyous?

"If you don't want me to see what's in there, go into the other room and open it. I'll wait. But you need to look before you bring this to Kieran. If Rome did this and it's something that could hurt him or something someone else could hurt him for, then we need to protect him. He did this because of us, if not for us. Kieran might not need to know."

"He's alpha. We have an obligation to tell him."

He privately thought he had an obligation to bury the box and spare anyone else more horror, but he knew she was right. He didn't seriously think about getting rid of the evidence. What was left of the Phaethon Pack would need to know that Alexander was dead. They might not be able to go back, but that would bring some of them a small measure of comfort.

Or would it? He used to know everything about everyone in his pack. As alpha, they all came to him. He trained, he listened, he held meetings and councils. They celebrated together, shifted together, mourned together, went to war together, and most of them upheld peace together. He knew every single person from the newest baby to the oldest member.

He'd locked himself away in Wyoming. He hadn't talked to a single person, Phaethon or Nightfall, unless they cornered him like Briar May had that morning.

He pulled a pocketknife out of his fatigues and slit the tape along the rim of the box. He'd seen so many grisly slights in his life, and was responsible for many himself, but the first glimpse of those pale, broken, bloodied hands in the layers of sealed plastic turned his stomach. He recognized Alexander's gold ring with the flat top that he wore on his pinky like a fucking mobster. He snatched the piece of white paper out and rammed the lid back in place.

Bile burned up his throat as he fumbled with the folded page.

Rome's handwriting was ridiculously neat and tidy and so at odds with the gore in the box.

Agnar,

I want you to know that your nightmare is finally over. I made sure he suffered accordingly for all his crimes. Crimes against you and your pack, but also against his own son. If you know the right people, you can find out just about anything on anyone, and when I had them do some digging, they found out that Alexander had been taking money for years. Funds from the contract killing he was forcing his son to do for the pack. I took the liberty of having him transfer this money to me because I knew you would all refuse it. I'll make sure it's put to good use. Alexander died penniless and empty. He died in great pain, and he wasn't brave until the end. He died a coward's death. Your lands, I'm afraid, are forfeit. He signed them over to the pack now occupying them. I know it's hard to accept, but you're where you belong. This is over for you and your pack. You're part of the Nightfalls now, and it might not have been what you wanted or what anyone wanted, but I know my parents and my brother will build you a true home.

There was another note written on the other side of the piece of paper. Agnar knew he shouldn't read it, but he wanted to know that the words wouldn't hurt his mate.

Prairie Rose,

I know you'll be angry and worried about me, but don't be. We've all known since we were children than this is how I'd end up. I only fulfilled my destiny and stepped into the role I was always meant to play. Monster might not sound right to you, but it's a title I'm more than happy to bear. I'm not built like anyone else in our pack. It's for the best that I'll never come home. You can hate me if you want, but I'd rather you didn't. Even monsters have some feelings. That's what makes us true monsters in the first place.

Agnar never asked me to do this. He did know, but he couldn't stop me. I made that clear. He knew it was my right. Yes. My right. Aside from being a thorough bastard and overall piece of shit, Alexander was the father of the man who killed the only woman I will ever love. I didn't expect to find myself capable of that, and now that I know what kind of destruction love causes, I'll be sure it never happens again for me. This wasn't my first act of violence, and it won't be my last. Don't let your heart feel heavy for me. I've made my peace with who and what I am and putting Alexander to ground has sealed something off in me that killing Pollux didn't and couldn't. My story is darkness and solitude. It's not your place to keep me from embracing it. Let it have me, and in exchange, give you back your mate. I know life doesn't work that way. You can't bargain for a soul, but in this case, I insist. In this case, it's already done. In this case, it's all finished.

I might have damned my own soul and cut out my own heart, but yours is still intact. For all his bluster, Agnar is nothing like me. You both deserve a good life, and a good life deserves to be lived.

Rome.

Fuck. Agnar was in pain just reading. He was thinking about every member of his pack, not himself. He was thinking about Prairie Rose. Her brothers and sisters. Kieran and his family. The Phaethon Pack never would have opened its doors to outsiders, yet the Nightfalls hadn't hesitated, and now this was their home. He'd need to talk to Kieran about making it official through a ceremony where they swore loyalty to him as their new alpha.

He folded the note and brought it to the door, where Prairie Rose waited, white as marble.

"What was in the box?"

He handed her the letter and let her read it for herself. He caught her before her legs gave out. She reached for him, throwing her arms around his neck. She clung to him so violently that it should have hurt, but he didn't feel it. He absorbed her pain into himself. She turned her face into his shoulder and soaked his shirt with her tears. Even sobbing and with her shuddery breaths, she still breathed him in and went lax, like she found comfort in his scent and heat and nearness.

He awkwardly closed his arms around her. She seemed to be inconsolable, but after minutes of just holding her, the sobbing quieted. He didn't expect her to put her hands on his chest and push him back into the wall. Her eyes were wet fires.

"You knew. You knew about this. That's why we came home early."

"Yes. That night. He pinned me to the wall and gave me a set of instructions. I didn't follow them because he ordered me around. I followed because I realized just how much I wanted to go home with you and the boys. I saw myself heading to Arizona, alone. I saw my own death play out. For once, I realized how selfish it would be to throw myself away when I'd made other oaths. Becoming a father is an oath. I mated you and I gave you a promise. You all deserved so much more than that, and maybe I did too. I felt… I don't know. Hope, maybe. Rome made it clear he wouldn't be dissuaded. He wasn't doing it out of the good of his heart. He wasn't doing it to spare me. He probably would have torn me apart if I'd stepped in his way."

"You could have, though. You could have at least told me. I was just here, thinking that everything would be okay. Bliss in fucking ignorance, and you made that possible. He's my brother!"

"And he's fine. He's fine, Prairie Rose."

"Does that look fine to you?" She thrust her finger towards the living room, to the horrible box on the table. "My brother killed someone for us!"

"No. He killed someone he was going to kill anyway because he wanted to. Do you think, truly, that there was anything you could have said to stop him?" He took the letter from her hands and waved it once in the air. "I know you're upset, and he knew you'd be upset, which is why he wrote this." He folded the white sheet of paper and tucked it in his pocket to give to Kieran. "He's convinced that's he's filling in the lines of a story that was written a long time ago."

She looked like she was going to hit him, but all she did was take his hand in hers. "There's always been something that the world would see as wrong with my brother. That doesn't make him a monster. He can't call himself that."

"He'll use that term as he will, but whatever you say to him isn't going to change his mind. All we can do is be here whenever he finds that he needs it."

"He can never come back here."

"I know. I meant be here in concept. Let him know that we in no way reject him and that we're here should he ever need or want our help."

"I thought he was doing better. Ever since Waverly, but I realize now he's just good at putting on that face and playing a part. That's what he's had to do to fit in, even here. Sometimes he didn't want to. Sometimes he acted horribly. I don't think that's the real him, but even if it is, he's still my brother."

"I think that's what he needs to hear."

She sniffed and swiped furiously at her eyes before she stepped back, drawing on her own strength, which never seemed to falter or fail her. He had tremendous respect for how quickly she recovered and for her unwavering faith and loyalty to those she loved.

"What was in the box, Agnar?"

He studied the crown of her head when she bent forward, hugging her arms around herself. He wouldn't let her see it, but she'd find out soon enough. She deserved to know. He trusted her and he respected her. She wasn't going to crumple again, and even if she did, he'd be there to catch her.

"Alexander's hands."

"His hands?" She closed her eyes and blew out a long, pained breath. "His hands."

"Yes."

"His hands for your hands."

"I don't think—"

"Of course that's why Rome sent them," she spat vehemently. "Even in his darkness, he's a goddamn poet. He could have sent his head or just one finger. We're wolves. We would have known him by scent, or at least you and Castor would. Oh my god." Her head snapped up and her eyes welled with tears again. "Castor. No matter how bad Alexander was, no matter what he did, he's still Castor's father. I need to go to Briar May first. No. Together. We need to tell them together and then we'll go to Kieran."

He found her hand and twisted their fingers together, linking them and holding on.

This was his life now, the door to Arizona slammed shut. It was everything he'd known, but now he could truly put it to rest. Rome was right. That was finished. He could step forward and find his way. Maybe that meant forcing himself to remember all the things he'd forgotten, but even if he never could bring it back—the goodness of his childhood and memories of his parents and grandparents and other packmates—he had a family of his own to love. He had a mate.

He would have a pack.

"I'm sorry, Prairie Rose."

She hugged him tightly around the neck. "No, I'm sorry. You're right about everything and Rome even confirmed what I already knew in that letter. There would have been no stopping him. You had nothing to do with this. He gave me the greatest gift. He made it possible for us to be a family, finally and forever." She peppered the side of his neck with soft kisses. "You're also right about Kieran. We need to go to him immediately. We need to gather the rest of your pack too. I'm sure he'd agree with that. I'll go with you. I'll help you with everything. You're not alone any longer."

He closed his eyes against the sting burning there suddenly. He knew what it was now, that prickle that warned that the deepest things he could possible feel were about to assault him. "Thank you." It was the least he could do when he couldn't tell her just how much that meant to him to have her by his side, even in this.

He was no longer lost. He was no longer beyond love. He was no longer beyond redemption.