Boris gripped the small comms device, his knuckles white. "Keal, escort Ryan to the border. My other guards will bring them to the house." His gaze followed his daughter as she walked away, her arms wrapped around herself as if she were warding off a chill that no external warmth could touch. Whatever torment consumed her, he knew, with a crushing certainty, that it was not something he could fix. The realization twisted a dagger in his heart. He reached for his mate, pulling her close, burying his face in her hair, and clinging to her as a drowning man clutches a lifeline.
Trinity sat on the wide window bench, leaning her head against the cool glass. Outside, the vibrant green of the forest stretched endlessly, bathed in the gentle afternoon light. She stared, unblinking, desperately hoping this distance was enough to keep him out of her mind. Closing her eyes was a luxury she couldn't afford, for then she would be back there—in that cramped, suffocating house, in the dark, dank basement. She would feel the cold concrete biting at her toes, the bone-deep chill seeping into her ten-year-old body, making her believe she might freeze to death. She would hear the creak of the floorboards above, the scuff of his boots, the cloying scent of stale smoke and cheap alcohol. And then there was the ever-present, nauseating smell of excrement from the bucket in the corner—a constant reminder of their squalor, a vessel for his cruelty. If they were "bad," he'd kick it over, forcing them to spend the night cleaning every inch of their filth-ridden prison. Nothing around them was ever truly clean.
She curled into a tight ball on the plush bench, pressing her hand against the soft fabric, anchoring herself to the present. This was warmth. This was light. She focused on the emerald canopy outside, the sound of the wind sighing through the trees, the clean air filling her lungs. She couldn't get lost in that dark, cold room again.
Time blurred. Her limbs felt stiff, cramped from her rigid posture, but she couldn't bring herself to move. She was still a prisoner, but this prison was bright, bathed in light and surrounded by verdant life. A soft knock startled her, pulling her back to the present. She didn't turn, didn't speak, hoping they would go away. The knock came again, a little louder this time, but she remained motionless, her eyes fixed on the vibrant green.
The door opened soundlessly. "Trin," Ryan's voice was a low murmur.
He saw her, a small, huddled ball on the window seat, and his gut twisted. He knew instantly that her mind had dragged her back to Mickey. A war raged within him. Her scent permeated the house, and here, in her room, it was intoxicatingly potent, immaculate. But in her current state, acknowledging it felt vile, a betrayal. He needed control, a semblance of it, at least. Turning his back to her, he spoke, his voice carefully soft. "What happened?" He had learned over the years not to ask if she was okay; he knew, most times, she simply wasn't. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, a desperate urge to go to her, to hold her, warring with the knowledge that it was the absolute wrong time.
Trinity slowly turned, perplexed by the sight of his back. "Why is your back turned?" The distraction, however brief, was a welcome reprieve. She had so many questions, so much to say.
Ryan felt a flush creep up his neck. Her scent was doing him in. "Practicing control!" he bit out, the words a raw, painful admission. His hands remained shoved deep in his pockets, knuckles white.
Trinity found herself both amused and intrigued, but she decided to table that particular oddity for now. No need to dive into any more strange waters. She had a more pressing question, one only he could answer. "Have you always known about wolves?" she asked softly, tentative.
Ryan wished he could face her, to have a real conversation, but he knew, with chilling certainty, that if he did, everything would unravel. Her scent was divine, yes, but Trinity herself was stunning, and the combination was a dangerously tempting cocktail. It was as if her scent was stealing the truth from his lips before he could properly articulate it, before he could make her understand he wasn't lying to her. His answer tumbled out, rushed and fumbling. "Yes, my parents smuggled us out."
His parents were wolves, just like hers, and he had lived among them. Of course, he knew. The knowledge felt like a fresh wound, a new betrayal, especially since he had never told her. Ryan gripped the ends of his hair, desperate to clear his head, to just talk.
"Did you know I was a defective?"
"Yes, they feel different. When I met you, I felt normal. My family told me you were like me. It's peaceful being around you defectives." He didn't feel odd or out of place. Being around humans felt wrong, their interactions strange and alien. But when he met Trinity and Jess, everything clicked into place. Ryan knew, instinctively, that this was why they had all gravitated towards each other.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Trinity's voice was desperate, laced with the sharp sting of betrayal.
Ryan could hear the hurt in her voice. He decided to try, to face her. He turned, and his nostrils flared, a deep, involuntary breath filling his lungs. Fuck, he groaned, a low, guttural sound escaping his chest. He didn't even realize his feet had moved until he held Trinity's face in his hands.
Trinity didn't flinch, didn't pull back. She just looked at him with those sad, questioning eyes, wondering why he had left her so exposed, why he hadn't told her anything so she could have protected herself. Even her watery gaze didn't lessen Ryan's rising lust, but he fought to keep his thoughts coherent. "I wasn't allowed to tell you. My family… we were all fugitives. They all became criminals because of me."
He pulled her into his chest, hoping the proximity would lessen his raw need, her soft, curvy body pressed against his. His fingers threaded through her hair, gripping the nape of her neck, pulling a fistful into his hand as he tilted her head back. He was trying so damn hard to maintain control, sweat beading on his brow. "Wait, I want to talk to you, when I can think."
Trinity understood his struggle now, but she needed her answers, and they were all leading to one pivotal question. "Was he… was Mickey a rogue wolf?" Her voice broke, hating the name, hating that it had passed her lips. The moment his name left her mouth, she could hear him, clear as day, in her head: Jamie, Jamie, Jamie.
Ryan felt a sliver of his sanity return as her voice quaked with such raw, heart-wrenching emotion. It was enough to cut through the fog of desire, to clear his mind. If anything could ground him, it was the knowledge of what Mickey had done to Trinity and Jess. He released his grip on her hair, sighing, but still holding her tight. He didn't want to tell her, didn't want to say the words. Because he knew his mind would fog again, and he wouldn't be able to explain everything. It just wasn't the right time.
"I would tell you about his skin," Trinity whispered, almost to herself. "How the bones seemed like they were moving under his skin." In the dark, she would see his skin ripple and shift, as if his bones were trapped, trying to reform into something that no longer existed.
"I wasn't allowed to say anything. And you weren't supposed to know. None of us are supposed to know what we are." Ryan pushed himself away from her, running his hands through his hair, pacing back and forth in front of her. He couldn't meet her eyes, because when he did, he saw the hurt, the disappointment. He saw the erosion of her trust, a trust that had taken him years to earn. "I'm going to tell you everything. I just can't think straight yet. I'll come after the heat. I just… I can just smell you everywhere."
He wanted to hold his breath, to keep her scent out so he could look at his friend normally. He felt like shit, and he didn't even have enough coherent thought to fix anything, to make her understand that he wasn't betraying her.
"I'll wait!" Trinity said, her voice filled with a quiet determination that felt like torture. Not only was her scent overwhelming, but she could clearly see his struggle.
Ryan felt like he was drowning, drowning in her scent, drowning in guilt, drowning in self-loathing. His friend was clearly in pain, and all he wanted to do was get her naked. Before he completely lost control, he quickly pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He lingered for a moment, then pulled away and dashed out of the room.
Boris paced anxiously at the foot of the grand staircase, the soft lamplight casting long, dancing shadows around him. He hadn't wanted to leave an unmated male in his daughter's room, but he trusted Ryan, knew he understood Trinity better than anyone. If anyone could help her, it would be him.
He watched Ryan practically tumble down the stairs, his movements frantic. Boris was quick to stop him, his nostrils flaring. He could smell his daughter on Ryan, far too strongly. But what truly concerned him was the potent waves of guilt radiating off the younger male.
"What did you do to my daughter?" Boris asked, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest.
"None of your business," Ryan snapped, his voice tight, still battling the urge to run back upstairs.
"My daughter is always my business," Boris snarled viciously, careful to keep his voice low enough not to alarm Trinity.
Ryan didn't want to resort to low blows. He knew Boris wasn't a bad person, but he wasn't in the mood to talk. He needed to get out of the house, fast. He couldn't suppress the surge of agitation when he was blocked from leaving. "Since when?" he hissed. "I'm the only one who's cared about her for years, so back the fuck off!" He snapped, shoving the beta's arm out of his way, slamming the heavy wooden door open with a resounding thwack against the wall. He didn't even bother to close it.
Deep in the treeline, too far away to catch the scent of his Beta's daughter, Keal watched, shocked, as Ryan slammed the heavy door open in a fit of rage. He had never seen anyone act that way towards the Beta, especially not someone who wasn't family. It wasn't his place to ask questions, so he simply waited for Ryan to meet him so he could escort him back to the defectives' house.