Page 3 of Mated To The King's Gamma
“He never laid a hand on you.” Liam’s voice was deadly calm. “I know my brother. In fact, I’m the one who stopped him from ripping his own heart out at your rejection.”
Sia’s pulse hammered. I could hear it, smell the fear rolling off her.
Liam’s eyes locked onto mine, sharp and knowing. “My loyalty has and always will be with my king and his guard. You made a mistake, and now it is up to Gannon whether that mistake is worth your life.”
He was giving me the choice.
Let her live.
Or don’t.
I took a slow breath, my heart a steady, pounding rhythm in my ears. I had spent two years being torn apart by this bond, feeling her with someone else, drowning in the agony of a mate who never wanted me.
But now?
Now, I felt nothing.
“So, brother,” Liam said, voice eerily casual. “Do you want to kill her, or should I?”
Sia shrieked, darting behind him like he would protect her.
Liam scoffed. “Why are you hiding behind me? Run, Sia. I’m not helping unless he wants help skinning you alive.”
She ran.
She didn’t beg.
She didn’t plead.
She ran.
And I chased.
I don’t remember the fight.
I remember the silence that followed.
The weight of her lifeless body as I lifted it.
The dirt beneath my hands as we buried her near the bridge outside the castle.
Liam stood beside me the whole time. He didn’t say much. He didn’t need to.
When the last shovelful of dirt was packed down, I exhaled, staring at the ground, at the fresh grave that held everything I had once hoped for.
Liam pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with steady hands before glancing at me. “Let’s head home.”
I nodded, but something inside me had already turned to stone.
This was the moment the old me died.
And the man I became, the man who stood over that grave, watching the last of his humanity be buried along with his mate would never hope for anything again, until her. Until Abbie.
Feeling movement beside me, Abbie stirs pulling me out of my tormented thoughts and back to the present to find Tyson had passed out coloring. His feet press against her side as he lays half across my chest.
“You’re okay,” I whisper, reaching over and brushing her hair with my fingertips. She exhales, squeezing her eyes shut, and her face reddens as it always does when she has these panic attacks. She finds them embarrassing, and I know it will take her a while again before building up the courage to face Clarice and the servants after what happened.
Guilt gnaws at me, knowing it is my fault this time. I rearrange Tyson, moving him between us and tucking the surrounding blanket over him. Abbie rolls to her side, inhaling his scent while I watch her.
