Chapter 55

Neither Nolan nor I said anything until it until he was gone.

Once he seemed to turn toward Alpha Raymond's office in the older wing, I felt I could possibly maybe find my senses again.

Nolan’s eyes were still wide, but they were focused on me. “What?” he breathed.

“Did you not feel that?” I asked.

He shook his head slowly, but his brows tugged together over pursed lips. “I mean, it felt a bit off, I guess, but…”

But nothing like the suffocating skin-crawling power I felt.

“I’ve seen that man before, but he didn’t have those tattoos,” he added.

“Those weren’t tattoos.” I shook my head, but I didn’t have an explanation for them, not one that made sense anyway.

“He’s probably just here to pay his condolences, and he will be gone,” Nolan explained.

Again, it struck me that he was the one trying to comfort me after his brother's funeral that was my doing.

We stayed staring at each other for a minute before I brushed back through the curtain, now seeming a bit foolish for my insane reaction. Nolan must think I was actually unhinged, maybe I was.

I felt it, too; it was real. It called to you differently because it was from our pack - Aksala explained, her voice sounding far away and on edge.

It’s okay - I tried to soother her as best as I could - It will be okay

Aksala retreated and I focused on Nolan again. I still hoped he feared me for what I was capable of, it instead of pitying me for the reasons behind it. I wasn’t entirely sure of his position, and he had the power of the truth he could wield whenever he wanted.

“Nolan?” I asked as we walked back toward the door.

“Hm?”

“Why haven’t you told them?” I asked outright.

The same question I asked Ezra what felt like years ago now, but I was betting the answer would be a lot different.

“Do you think they would believe me if I had?” he asked.

I shrugged. I had absolutely no idea.

Instead of a response, Nolan walked me up to my floor in silence and then paused. “I don’t know which one is yours,” he admitted, so I led him to my room.

He stood outside; a thousand questions seemed to flicker across his face. “I know you’re probably not permitted at the feast, but I’ll let you know if that man is staying and if he’s around tomorrow,” he said.

“Thank you,” I replied with complete sincerity, reaching out to grasp his shoulder gently, something I did not intend to do.

“Should I send someone to guard your door?” he asked but shook his head as if he remembered I didn’t need it. “Habit, I guess,” he explained. “But if it would make you feel better…?”

“I’m okay.” I smiled at him, genuinely surprising myself. “Thanks,” I replied, but it was quiet.

His humanity—his genuine response melted me.

***

I paced around my room, replaying what I had just seen and what it could mean. The challenge, the other Alphas, and how they looked today. Aksala and I went through everything, debating back and forth and analyzing what might be and the outcomes.

A soft rapt at the window drew our attention; the sky outside showed me it was late afternoon as I went to the window.

Ezra’s formidable figure was somehow hunched on the small ledge. My heart accelerated as I fumbled with the latch before I managed to undo it.

I opened the window with such force I had to stop it before it could go crashing against the stone wall. Ezra jumped in with feline grace. A loose tendril of dark brown hair fell forward across his brow, and I wanted to touch it, to brush it back. But he stood and tucked it back into his bun, and somehow I composed myself.

“What a gentleman,” I snorted, crossing my arms. “Finally learned to knock?” I knew he did not need me to unlock that window.

A side of his lips quirked up. “I thought it would be proper,” he replied, and I rolled my eyes.

My morally righteous hired mercenary.

“I do have to talk to you, though,” he added, and his face dropped back into the mask he wore when he first showed up here.

I motioned for him to sit by the fire and took the seat across from him.

“Miles is here,” Ezra said. “The man who hired me,” he added without needing to.

“I know,” I added, biting my lip accidentally too hard and drawing blood.

Ezra eyed me, and I went into an explanation of what I saw—what I felt.

But words didn’t fully encapsulate everything that I had actually gone through those few moments or possibly hours alongside Nolan.

Ezra nodded only slightly when I was done. He was still studying the fire as if it had an answer he was trying to figure out, but his eyes seemed wider, rounder than usual.

“Any theories?” he asked.

I nodded slowly, but I didn’t want to admit it out loud, not even to him. I didn’t want it to be real.

It would be a problem for later, I had so much going on right now.

“What did he want from you?” I asked Ezra instead, wanting to change the subject to what was happening at that moment.

“Before that, I want to know something.” He shifted so he was fully facing me; his knee brushed mine, and my stomach flipped. “After the challenge, what happens?”

I sighed, lacing my hands together. We had been through this.

“Do you mean right after?” I asked, forcing myself to meet his eyes, but it was harder than usual. He nodded slowly. “I hadn’t thought that entirely through; I figured we would see if there was an after first and go from there.” I shrugged.

I had so many things to consider that after the challenge, after the death, the deaths of those I had been coveting for so long seemed insignificant at best. Trivial perhaps. I didn’t want to waste time on it.

“There will be,” he said with more steely confidence than even I had.

I knew I was being humble, I was certain I would win the challenge, but still… The doubts lingered.

“I have had limited time before the challenge. I did not. I do not want to waste it planning future possibilities.” I slumped forward, my head falling into a hand.

He looked back at the fire. The every-so-slight tug down on his lips made me reconsider my words. “Any suggestions?” I asked him.

“No, just curious.” He swallowed. “What of Miles? “Same end?” he asked.

I nodded. I wanted answers from him. He was like a second father to me; he was my uncle. Even if he wasn’t by blood, that did not ever matter; it was never a factor. He was my family, and I mourned him with the rest.

That betrayal was personal. It cut deeper than I knew possible, wrenching open wounds I half-ass attempted to patch up so I could ignore. Wrenched them open and dug a fresh blade deeper into them.

I needed to know why, even though no explanation would make me feel better or would save him—nothing could save him from me now.

“I’ll help in any way I can,” Ezra promised.

I shook off that anger and slammed it down, tucking it away with the rest. But it was searing hot, and the wounds festered.

“What did Miles want from you?” I asked him. “Any news?” Half forgetting through my rage that Miles had a different relationship, a different meaning to him.

“He was just checking in. I told him what I found… or didn’t find. The deaths stopped when I came besides the trial, of course. But that was due to the other brothers.”

I watched him through slitted eyes; his motions were too jerky, his words too fast.

“What is it you aren’t telling me?” I demanded.

His hands curled over the sides of the chair, his knuckles strained. “He wanted me to change my task while I was here,” he said slowly, glancing at me and then back at the fire.

“Stop doing that,” I spat. His antics were unnerving. “Just tell me, what does he want?

Ezra thankfully stilled and looked at me with his too-penetrating eyes.

“He wants you dead.”