Chapter Forty-One

Willow

Silas talks. And talks. And talks. There are parts I understand, and parts I wish to god I didn’t.

A neglected mother. Her poor, newborn pup.

And three sires who escaped punishment for their crimes.

I believe Silas when he says he trusted the system, and the alphas at its charge. Why else would he have waited several months to see justice served? Why else would he have left everything—his pride, his title, his legacy—behind?

“Callous as it sounds, I didn’t give a damn about your disappearance, let alone dragging you home.” He shrugs. “You were just a name in a file.”

“How convenient,” I mutter.

The fresh bite on my neck throbs, a vague sense of concern trickling through me. Kane . He must feel me. My horror. My outrage.

Silas eyes me apologetically. “I did say it was callous.”

“No.” I take a deep breath, hoping my calm travels across the bond. “I’m glad. My name in that file gave you a reason to get out of there.”

He smiles wryly. “It certainly gave me a head start.”

“You think they’ll follow you?”

“I doubt it. But they’ve marked my disappearance—of that I’m sure. If they find me out here, well, my fate won’t be much better than yours.”

I bristle. What would an untouchable alpha like Silas know about my fate?

He must read my reaction. “Sorry,” he says, softly. “I didn’t think—”

“It’s fine.”

It’s not, but I can hardly blame him. The only consequences his alpha brain can fathom are formal exile. Maybe a public beating. He doesn’t know the things they’ll do to me.

The things they’ve already done.

Once again, a twinge of concern strikes the bond. If I’m not careful, Kane will give up on hunting altogether to come check on me.

I’m okay, I try to convey, then hesitate. I think.

“What happened to that omega,” I tell Silas, “and her pup … that wasn’t your fault. It was the sires who killed them.”

He grimaces. “You don’t have to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Pardon me.”

“I’m not pardoning you,” I return, a little sharper than intended. “The sires were in your charge. They never should’ve had access to the mother program to begin with. Whatever you taught them, or didn’t teach them, got two people killed.”

Silas swallows, but doesn’t recoil.

I go on, “But you have something they don’t.”

He cocks his head, a glint of hope in those despairing amber eyes.

I say, “Remorse.”

His shoulders sink. “Remorse doesn’t change what happened.”

“No, but it sure as hell changed you . Opened your eyes.” I shrug. “The sentinels who killed her, stayed. The commander who let them get away with it, is still their commander. You’re the only one holding himself accountable.”

“By running.”

“By leaving .”

Finally he stops. I don’t recognize the look on his face, oddly subservient, like he’s hanging onto my every word for dear life. “Don’t you hate me?”

“I hate the sentinels. You’ve … chosen not to be one.” It seemed so arbitrary when he first said it. Felt like an affront when he claimed he was a runaway, just like me. Why didn’t he tell me all this sooner?

Why didn’t you listen ? my omega grumbles.

“They hurt you,” Silas grits out. “Didn’t they.”

My heart clutches to a stop. My blood turns cold.

They’re laughing. It hurts, and I’m screaming, and they’re all still laughing.

The bond rumbles, as if Kane is growling in response to my distress. I force myself to take another, deeper breath.

“They didn’t kill me,” I answer hoarsely. “Guess I should consider myself lucky.”

“Don’t say that,” Silas snaps.

I turn to face him again. “What difference does it make what they did to me? I’m here now. That’s what counts.”

His eyes search my face, picking me apart. My omega screams at me to just tell him, but something holds me back. Kane’s fury, I can live with. But Silas would only pity me. And likely blame himself. I’m not sure if I can handle that.

“It won’t change anything,” Silas says at last. “Not what they did, or why you left. But I’ve lived with my head under a rock for long enough. If you want to tell me, I’m here to listen.”

If you want to tell me. It’s not a phrase I expected to hear from Silas, or any alpha. Alphas make demands. They take what they want. Especially alphas who used to be sentinel chiefs.

And maybe it’s because of Kane’s bond, imbuing me with a sense of safety, or maybe it’s because of those unusual words— if you want— that I finally let my omega take over.

“I was raped,” I tell Silas, without emotion. “Brutally. Repeatedly.” I stare out at the river. “Three sentinels.”

I can hear the growl in Silas’s breath. Taste the acid in his pheromones. He says nothing.

I explain, “I knew, even if my family believed me, the sentinels would find a way to cover their asses. I couldn’t have been the first.” I shudder. “I doubt I’ll be the last.”

Silas’s fists tighten. I hold my shoulders as tall as I can, pushing myself to go on.

“Byron, my father, was pivotal to the mother program. Basically hinged his career on it. Which meant … hinging his career on me.” I smile grimly. “If a high-ranking councilor was willing to bet his own daughter on the program, it would legitimize everything he worked for.”

“And legitimize the rape,” Silas grunts.

I flinch. Silas takes a breath like he’s about to apologize, but stops himself, clearly not trusting his voice.

“I love my family.” I swallow thickly. “Even my fathers. But my staying would only hurt them in the long run.”

“You’re the one who was hurting,” Silas says.

“You don’t know my mother. She spent my entire life protecting me.”

“ Protecting you?”

“Keeping me pure. If she found out what they did, it would destroy her.”

His lip curls. “If she really wanted to protect you, she’d make sure the sentinels never laid eyes on you again.”

I give him a dark look. “My mother might be Pack Shire’s omega, but she’s still an omega. Her power has limits.”

At this he pauses, no doubt reminded of his own power, or lack thereof. If he had things his way, the sires responsible for those two deaths would’ve been executed.

“I considered my older brothers and sister—all alphas.” I sigh. “But they’d already been assigned their posts. Too much to lose to risk defending me.”

“Does that include Alfie?”

I start. “How do you know about Alfie?”

He frowns, as if he’s not quite sure himself, then recalls, “You said his name in your sleep, back at the cabin. At first I thought it was another alpha, but it didn’t add up.” His eyes flick to my neck. “The only alpha you wanted was Kane.”

I adjust Kane’s cloak, making sure the bite is hidden. I wasn’t sure how Silas would react if he saw it. He’s been remarkably contained so far, but when it comes to alphas—especially imprint mates—one can’t be too careful.

“I didn’t bond with him to hurt you,” I find myself saying. “I bonded with him because I love him.”

Silas doesn’t flinch, though I can sense that he’s in pain.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, “about the mother and pup. They deserved justice.”

His jaw clenches. I swear I catch a glimmer in his eye before he swallows, hard. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. And I’m so, so sorry …” he waits until I meet my gaze. “For making you think I would ever take you back.”

Now I wish he would cry, just so I’d have an excuse to do the same.

The bond throbs sympathetically. I don’t have to tune into it to know what it means.

“Kane will be here soon,” I murmur.

Silas raises his eyebrows. “I suspect he’s not very pleased with me.” Gently, he reaches out, catching a fallen tear off my cheek. “Can he feel this?”

I consider. “The tears, or your hand?”

He doesn’t answer, weighing my jaw in his palm. Helpless, my breath shudders, my omega all-too eager to remind me that there’s one bond I’m still missing.

It didn’t make sense to me at first—why the universe would pair me up with the sentinels’ chief of recruitment, of all alphas. It seemed like a sick cosmic joke. But I think I’m beginning to get it.

We understand each other. Not just who we are now, but who we were.

And what we gave up.

My face feels heavy in Silas’s hand. He caresses my cheek with his thumb. Something vital, primal, stirs within me.

“I’m glad you bonded with Kane,” he says quietly.

My eyes shoot open.

Silas gives that tender smile once more. “You deserve to be loved.”

Meaning what, exactly? That now I have all the love I can handle? That he doesn’t love me the same way?

Even without a bond mark, Silas seems to read my thoughts, the way he always does. “Kane’s strength is yours. And, when you’re ready …” he drops his forehead to mine. “I’d like to give you the same.”

I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Alpha still wants me, my omega hums. Forgive him, and he’s yours.

That’s when it strikes me. Even knowing what Silas has gone through, what he’s sacrificed just to be here—he was still a sentinel. What if, the next time he’s inside of me, I flash back to that day, with those monsters laughing as they tore me apart?

“When you’re ready,” Silas reinforces, feeling me stiffen. “And not a minute sooner.”

I relax, both relieved and pained as he pulls away. As I go to respond, something stops me—a shrill, warning jolt down the bond.

I look around frantically. Silas marks my reaction.

“What is it?” he demands. “Kane?”

I grip the cloak. “Something’s wrong.”

Silas guides me into the trees. He hastily stomps out the fire.

I keep scanning, waiting for my bond mate to appear. Where is he? my omega demands. What happened? If he was hurt, surely I’d feel it, though the thought provides little solace.

“Is he close?” Silas asks.

“I–I don’t know.”

“Think. Feel. ”

Heart pounding, I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to project my awareness into the bond. My mate is nearby. I can practically hear his breath in my ear, short and sharp, like he’s running.

My eye snap open. I turn, and sure enough—

Kane bursts between the trees, his naked chest gleaming, his red eyes sharp. He finds me in an instant, my inner omega melting with relief as he wraps me up in his arms.

“What is it?” Silas demands. “What happened?”

Kane tucks me in closer, glaring at Silas over my shoulder. “Sentinels. Six of 'em.”

I’m not sure if I’m about to throw up or chirp. Silas curses, then says, “How far?”

“Maybe a thousand yards. Maybe less.”

“They spot you?”

Kane growls. “You think I’m an idiot?”

I push out of Kane’s chest, scanning the clearing for unpacked supplies. “We have to move. If they’re headed north, it’s only a matter of time before they catch my scent.” I glance at Silas. “Or yours.”

“They’ll catch our scent regardless,” Silas informs me.

“Hold up,” Kane cuts in. “They’re not headed north.”

We both turn to him, perplexed. “Aren’t they coming from Southside?”

He shakes his head. “From the north.”

That’s when it dawns on me. The squadron Silas told us about—sentinels sent up north, putting my bounty out to anyone who’d listen—never left. They’ve been waiting, lurking, inside Northside’s walls.

“Pack Hoffran assumed they’d gone back to Southside,” I whisper.

“I assumed the same,” Silas confesses. “We were both wrong.”

“Bold move, bunking with the enemy,” Kane grunts.

“It saved them a lot a time.” Silas scans the clearing. “No wonder they caught up so fast.”

Hastily, I start to collect our things. Well, technically, Silas’s things—I gave all my supplies to Mindy. Silas sweeps in as I snatch his water canister. Our hands brush, and my eyes flick up to his.

Something flashes across his expression, calculating. “Kane,” he says suddenly.

My bond mate perks up, eyeing the two of us suspiciously.

Silas shoves the canister into his pack and thrusts it at Kane’s chest. “Take this. Don’t let the Northside guards see it.” He gestures to the sentinels’ insignia on the side. “They’ll cast you out on sight.”

“Northside?” Kane and I ask at the same time.

“Cut around the east,” Silas goes on, like he hasn’t heard us. “Away from the river. That way, you won’t run into each other.”

“We’re not going to Northside,” Kane snaps. “They sentinels have been there fuck knows how long, pushing their goddamn bounty. Everyone’s gonna have it out for her.”

“I have a plan,” Silas insists. “Trust me.”

“ Trust you?” Kane seethes. I put a hand on his arm, sending reassurance down the bond.

“What about you?” I ask Silas. “We can’t just leave you here.”

Kane chuffs as if to say, Like hell we can’t.

“I’ll hold them off,” Silas says. He smiles at me in a way that’s almost reassuring, but my anxiety churns, amplified by Kane’s distrust. “And meet you there before dawn.”

The way he says it, before dawn, like it’s only a short time, makes my chest ache. I’m not ready to be apart again—not for an hour, and certainly not for a night.

Sensing my distress, Silas takes both my hands, making Kane growl.

“Find somewhere to hide,” Silas murmurs, “near the village center. I promise, I will find you .”

The bond pulses, Kane’s feelings twisting through mine. Anger. Desperation. But finally, begrudgingly, acceptance.

“Be safe,” I bite out.

He smiles that smile I both love and hate—perfectly symmetrical, expertly designed to make my omega feel safe. “Stay close to Kane. He’ll protect you.”

Kane steps forward. “She doesn’t need you to tell her that.”

Everything packed up, the campsite sufficiently disheveled, we prepare to part ways. I fight the urge to scent-mark Silas before we go. He’s facing enough danger as it is without Willow Shire all over him, incriminating him further.

“Alright.” Silas locks eyes with Kane, tapping his jaw. “Lay it on me.”

I start. Kane hesitates, but I can sense his excitement. “You sure about that?”

“I’ll say I’ve been tracking Willow. Tell them a rogue fought me off.”

“They won’t believe you!” I argue.

“Maybe not, but it’ll buy you some time.” He looks at Kane again. “Go ahead.”

I’m powerless to do anything but stand by as Kane and Silas face off, my bond mate readying a fist, my imprint mate standing openly.

“Make it believable,” Silas says.

Kane smirks. “Won’t be a problem.”

He swings, sending Silas reeling. Already, I can see the rosy point of impact, Silas’s lip split and bleeding. My inner omega cringes.

“Go,” he breathes. His eyes barely skim mine, knowing we’re about to be torn apart.

Kane grabs my waist. He adjusts the pack. And we run.

Leaving Silas to face the sentinels alone.