Chapter 246
Cassian's POV
I glare at it like it's personally offended me. The screen lights up with a text notification, and I see the contact name I programmed in months ago when the truth about my father started coming out: Sperm Donor.
Petty? Maybe. Accurate? Absolutely.
I snatch up the phone and read the message:
"Alpha Kai and others have contacted me. They aren't willing to give their support until they get more from you and Casper. Do you think you can get him on board?"
My lip curls back from my teeth in an involuntary snarl. Of course. Of course that's what this is about. Not "How are you doing, son?" Not "I know this is hard." Just more demands, more expectations, more pressure to perform like good little heirs while our entire world crumbles around us.
My thumbs move across the screen with vicious precision:
"Yep, and while I'm at it I'll solve world hunger."
The sarcasm feels good, even if it's childish. Send.
His response comes almost immediately:
"No need to be sarcastic, son. That's not going to help, is it?"
Son. The word makes me want to throw the phone through the windshield. He doesn't get to call me that. Not after everything. Not after what he did to Casper, what he's still doing to both of us with his expectations and manipulations and complete inability to see us as anything other than extensions of his precious legacy.
My teeth grind together so hard my jaw aches, but I type out another response:
"Are you seriously lecturing ME on being helpful, given everything you have done to 'HELP' Casper?"
I hit send before I can second-guess myself, then lean back against the headrest, chewing on my gums. Part of me wants to drive back to the pack house right now and punch him in his self-righteous face. Let Zero out. Let all the rage and betrayal and pain spill over into something violent and final.
But I can't.
Because as much as I want to blame him for Casper's current state—for the drinking, for the depression, for the way my twin is falling apart—I know the truth. The decision that broke Elowen's heart, the choice that sent her away, the whole goddamn charade with Sarah? That wasn't Dad's fault.
That was ours. Mine and Casper's. We made that call. We chose to hurt her to save her.
And we're the ones who have to live with it.
Still, blaming Dad is easier than facing the truth. Easier than acknowledging that we destroyed the best thing that ever happened to us with our own hands.
My phone buzzes again. Another text from Sperm Donor:
"I thought we were over this. I won't apologize again."
Something inside me snaps.
"Or at all."
I barely register typing the words before I'm hurling the phone toward the back seat. It hits the leather with a satisfying thwack, and then I'm just... done. Done pretending. Done holding it together. Done being the strong one, the responsible one, the one who keeps it all from falling apart.
I let go.
The emotions I've been shoving down for months come roaring up like a tidal wave, and I can't stop them. Don't even try. My hands grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white, and I watch my reflection in the rearview mirror as my eyes fill with tears I've been refusing to shed.
They spill over, hot tracks down my cheeks, and my whole face crumbles. The sound that comes out of me is something between a sob and a gasp, raw and broken and completely beyond my control. My shoulders shake. My chest heaves. The careful walls I've built around myself shatter like glass, and all that's left is the howling emptiness where Elowen used to be.
"Elowen."
Her name tears out of me like a prayer, like a curse, like the only thing that matters in the entire world.
"I need you!"
My voice cracks on the words, desperate and aching and so fucking lost. Because it's true. I need her. Not want—need. She's my lifeline, my anchor, the only thing that's ever made sense in this insane supernatural world. And she's gone.
Gone because of me.
Gone because I chose duty over love, safety over happiness, her life over her heart.
I double over the steering wheel, forehead pressed against my white-knuckled hands, and let myself break. Just for a moment. Just this once. In the privacy of my car in an empty parking lot on a Wednesday afternoon, I let Cassian Thornwood—future Alpha, master strategist, the one who always has a plan—completely fall apart.
And I cry for everything we've lost.