Chapter 26: A Crack In The Facade

Chapter 26

A Crack In The Facade

Kael's POV

Those words burned into my mind hours after the screen had gone black.

"How's my twins feeling?"

So confident. So carefree. As if the recipient already had a piece of me I hadn't given up willingly.

I sat in the quiet of my chambers, the fire dwindling low, shadows flickering on stone walls. My mind ran over all possibility. The first had been obvious—Mira. Had she said something to someone? Had she confided the secret in a lover from before me?

Then the second thought. nastier. Darker.

Twins.

I didn't have a twin. I would have known. But the word carried significance to it that stirred something within my blood. Could it be that the message wasn't referring to me, but to the unborn twins Mira carried? Were they twins? And if so, how did this stranger know before I did?

The notion disturbed me in ways I could not explain. I was Kael, Alpha by my own creation, cut from blood and fear. Nothing intimidated me—save for the things that I could not find a hold of. And this seemed like the gods laughing at me.

My jaw ground. My fist tightened on the table. If there is one out there keeping tabs on Mira, watching my heirs. I will find them. I will cut them open before they ever lay hands on what is mine.

But beneath the rage churned something darker still—doubt.

What if the note hadn't been a warning, but the truth? What if Mira had betrayed me?

The door creaked, dispelling my storm of thoughts.

Mira walked in, carrying a tray. The scent of seared meat and herbs wafted through the room. Her hair was sleek, her steps careful. She looked fragile, aglow with the life within her. For one fleeting moment, she was all I had ever wanted.

Her gaze met mine, and she smiled faintly. "You haven't eaten today," she said quietly, putting the tray in front of me.

I didn't answer. I watched her. Every gesture. Every gesture of her eyes. I sought out the cracks in the mask.

"Kael?" she asked quietly when I didn't answer. "Something wrong?"

I may have thrown the phone at her. I may have demanded names, reasons, loyalty. But the silence remained instead, crushing as a monolithic metal thing.

I shoved the storm down into my chest. My lips shaped words that were not mine. "No," I fibbed gently. "Nothing's wrong."

She tilted her head, concern mapping her features. "You've been quiet."

I smiled thinly, almost wearily. "Tired, Mira. That's all.".

Her eyes softened. She reached out, tracing her fingers over my arm. Her touch was supposed to soothe me. It burned. Those words in that message yelped in my head. How's my twins feeling?

I wanted to talk—to her, about her, to demand an answer—to whom was I asking this? But the words clogged in my throat, choking me.

So I did nothing.

I raised the fork, compelled myself to take a bite. It was warm, rich, sublime. But it broke down to ash on my tongue. Mira regarded me with trusting eyes, the ones that had persuaded the world she was innocent. Maybe she was. Maybe she wasn't.

Either way, I didn't let her share in what I'd witnessed. Not yet.

"Thank you," I said finally, voice firm.

She smiled, relief spreading on her face. "Always, Kael."

I pushed the tray aside after two bites, stood from my chair, and kissed her forehead. My lips stayed for a moment, though my heart was hollow.

"I have things to take care of," I whispered.

And before she could ask me anything else, I left.

The room outside the hall was cold. My footsteps echoed off the stone, harsh and deliberate. I carried the phone in my pocket, the weight a burden crushing me.

I did not know who had sent that message. I did not know if Mira was the traitor or if she was the victim.

But one thing I knew:

The game was changed. And I would burn it all, and everyone, to cinders, to uncover the truth.