Page 90 of Siege of Blood and Betrayal

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Scottie

Jack’s words linger in my mind as I make my way down to the basement, the echoes of his voice still ringing in my ears.

You understand him better than he understands himself. When the darkness takes hold, you need to see it coming. When his beast hungers to tear someone’s throat out, you are the one with the power to pull him back.

I roll the meaning of all that over in my mind, pushing back the anger and pain I’ve surrounded myself with for years. If I’m going to help him and live up to the role my father believed I could fill—I need to forgive him.

That’s easier said than done.

The memory of that night so long ago still hollows me out, the blade of the dagger he plunged into my heart still there, keeping it an open wound.

Was he really so far gone that he killed innocent women? How did I miss that? I knew he was anxious and hidingsomething from me, but I thought it was about my birthday. And then I offered myself to him.

“Scots, please. I was in a violent and scary place and didn’t want you to see the beast I felt growing inside me. I wanted you safe and happy.”

“I was safe and happy.”

“Well, you wouldn’t have been if I allowed myself to take you that night. Dammit, Scots, I would’ve devoured you. I wanted you so badly I would’ve lost control.”

Would he? I couldn’t have imagined him hurting me. I also couldn’t have imagined him killing women in the streets. That isn’t Zane. Or, at least, not the Zane I thought I knew.

I punch in the security code to gain access to the basement, where Zane has been interrogating the Jaxon for days. I feel his unease before I even step inside, the chaotic restlessness of his heart pounding in my chest.

The hallway is dim, lit by a single light from the end of the hall, casting long shadows over the rough stone walls.

Zane is standing in the shadows, his back to me, his shoulders rigid. His fists are clenched at his sides, and rage radiates off him like heat from a wildfire.

He doesn’t notice me at first, too lost in his frustration to realize I’ve come in. If he keeps pushing like this, he’s going to snap. And then we’ll lose any chance of getting the information we need.

I clear my throat softly, stepping forward. “Zane.”

He turns sharply, his scarlet eyes flashing with that dangerous edge I’ve seen so often since I’ve been back. Have I really been so blinded by my pain that I failed to see his?

With everything he’s going through—his father’s death, his people under attack, my rejection, Jaxon’s betrayal—Zane is teetering dangerously close to the edge of his control.

“You need to calm down.”

His gaze narrows, and for a moment, I wonder if he’s already lost to the battle raging inside him. “This isn’t the time for calm, Scots. We need answers, and I’m not getting them. My family are mind fuckers and I can’t get through whatever safeguards are keeping his secrets locked away from us.”

I gesture toward a small table and two chairs against the far wall. “Come sit. You won’t get those secrets like this. You’re too wound up.”

Zane’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t argue. He knows I’m right. I pull the two chairs out and face them toward one another and take a seat. He follows my lead and sits across from me, our knees touching.

“Do you remember the summer when we first started to hide in the tunnels? You were anxious because of your father’s training sessions and the pressures being put on you?”

His brow furrows. “I remember.”

“You would get so worked up, you could barely sit still.” I reach forward and take his hands in mine. “The only thing that would calm you down was when we’d sit together, holding hands, like this. Remember?”

Zane sighs a long, labored breath. “We were kids, Scottie. A lot has happened since then.”

“I understand that, but what if we just try? If nothing else, we both could use the reset, don’t you think?”

“A reset?”

I nod. “I will work on leaving our past in the past if you swear I can trust you.”

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