Page 33 of Forsaken Devotion: Part 2
This had been a coordinated effort. Duane had set it up. As much as Lucian had betrayed me, seeing him beaten didn’t bring me any pleasure.
Someone stepped in front of me, jolting me out of my frozen state. It took me a moment to recognize Alex.
I didn’t get a bad feeling from him, and I’d learned to trust my gut, but I still had to make sure.
“When you told me to go there, did you know it was Drake’s land?” I stared up at him steadily. He frowned, and genuinely didn’t seem to know what I was talking about. Once I got to my feet, I studied him. His eyebrows were high on his forehead.
“No,” he blurted. “I’d never want Lucian harmed.”
“In exchange for letting us leave his land, Drake had Lucian beaten.” My lip trembled, but I stiffened it.
Alex only gawked.
And forced Lucian to hand over land, but that was the least of it.
“You said when he was younger, thatpack,” I spat out. “Starved him and forced him into fights. And Duane knew this?”
Alex licked his lips and scratched his scalp.
“Yes, he’s one of Lucian’s dominants, he would know.”
I gritted my teeth so hard that my jaw creaked.
“How did he get away?”
“Our father finally cut a deal and offered land in exchange for Lucian. When he returned . . . he was different.” He grimaced.
“How old was he?” The words hurt to push out of my throat.
“Thirteen.”
I sucked in a harsh breath. Today made more sense. It was a humiliation ritual. It was what had started his hatred for Drake. He’d told me to keep my distance from that man because of this.
“Find Duane,” I hissed.
Alex’s eyes widened, and it was clear he’d caught on to what I was saying.
“Duane,” he whispered. “He’s one of Lucian’s most trusted.” Alex shook his head, his eyes still wide and shocked. “How could he betray him?” His voice was low like he was speaking to himself.
“Find him,” was all I could say, my brain was starting to freeze up.
Alex’s mouth tightened, and he nodded. As he retreated, my stomach seethed, a mess of nerves.
All I could do was sit here, waiting for news.
12
Lucian lay on the clinic bed in the same room I’d escaped from. It was as if the mess I’d made of the window was never there; everything was cleaned and repaired.
I slumped deeper into the chair next to his bed.
It’d been a long wait, close to an entire day until I received information on his prognosis. I almost drove the nurses crazy with my constant pestering.
Now that I had him in front of me, not dead, and definitely breathing, any strength in my body seeped away. I could finally relax. Or, at the very least, not be on the verge of exploding.
I pressed my fingertips into my temples and rubbed them. The thread of adrenaline that had kept me going snapped the moment I saw him breathing.
He was okay. I continued to repeat the mantra in my head. My anger hadn’t faded, although it had been veiled momentarily by fear, it didn’t mean I forgave him.
