Chapter 60 The Third Degree

Chapter 60 The Third Degree


The lock on the door didn't just click; it thudded. It was the sound of two men losing their minds because their favorite toy had developed a mind of its own.

I paced the length of the fur rug, my cloak discarded on the bed. I could hear them whispering in the hallway—the low, vibrating rumble of Kieran’s growl and the sharp, clinical tone of Rowan’s counter-arguments. They weren't fighting about the Shadow Pack anymore. They were fighting about me.

When the door finally opened, they didn't come in alone. Two guards took up positions outside, and the Alphas stepped in, shutting the world out behind them.

Kieran looked like he was vibrating. The air around him felt hot, thick with the scent of a thunderstorm. Rowan was the opposite, cold, poised, and terrifyingly observant. He pulled out a chair and gestured for me to sit.

"Sit down, Iris," Rowan said. It wasn't a suggestion.

I sat. I didn't have much of a choice. Kieran hovered behind me like a dark cloud, his hands resting on the back of my chair. I could feel the heat radiating off his palms.

"Now," Kieran began, his voice dropping to a dangerous level. "Tell us again. You saw a man. A spy. And you knew he had a letter in his boot. How?"

"I told you, I saw him," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "He looked suspicious."

"Suspicious?" Rowan leaned against the heavy oak table, crossing his arms. "Iris, I have spent my entire life training to spot infiltrators. Kieran’s stronghold is one of the most secure places in the North. That man was dressed as a common servant. Even the head cook didn't notice him. Yet you, a girl who has been here less than twenty-four hours, knew exactly what was in his footwear?"

I bit my lip. The "I’m a good guesser" line wasn't going to work a second time. These weren't the bumbling villains from a cartoon; they were Alphas. They survived on instinct and the ability to smell a lie from a mile away.

"You're hiding something," Kieran growled. He leaned down, his face inches from mine. I could see the gold flecks in his amber eyes. "Yesterday, you knew where the ambush was coming from. Today, you find a spy in my kitchen. You talk about deaths that haven't happened and wars that haven't started."

"Maybe I’m psychic," I muttered.

Kieran slammed his hand onto the table, making the wood groan. "Do not play with me! Not today!"

"Kieran, stop," Rowan said, though his eyes remained cold. He looked at me, his gaze softening just a fraction—the "good cop" routine. "Iris, we aren't trying to frighten you. But look at it from our perspective. You were a human girl lost in the woods. Now, you act as if you know the secrets of our kingdoms better than we do. Are you working for someone? Did the Shadow Pack plant these thoughts in your head?"

"I would never work for them," I snapped, the truth slipping out before I could stop it. "They’re the ones who burn everything. They’re the ones who..."

I stopped, my heart racing. I had almost said They're the ones who killed Lena.

"Who what?" Kieran pressed, his grip on my chair tightening so hard I heard the wood crack. "Who killed who, Iris? Who are you mourning?"

The grief I had been pushing down all morning bubbled up. It was so unfair. I was trying to save them, and they were treating me like a criminal. They were so wrapped up in their roles—the jealous mate and the calculating usurper, that they couldn't see the cliff we were all standing on.

"I’m mourning you!" I shouted, standing up so fast the chair tipped over.

They both froze. The room went dead silent.

"I’m mourning both of you," I said, my voice shaking with a mix of anger and exhaustion. "Because if you keep acting like this—if you keep fighting over me instead of watching the gates—you’re both going to die. You'll die in the fire, Kieran. And you'll die with a sword in your back, Rowan. And I’ll be left standing in the ashes of a story that didn't have to end that way."

The silence stretched on. Kieran looked at Rowan, and for the first time, I didn't see rivalry in their eyes. I saw genuine, bone-deep confusion. They thought I had lost my mind. To them, I was speaking in riddles, talking about a future that felt like a fever dream.

Rowan reached out, his fingers grazing my cheek. "You're sick, Iris. The stress... the transition to this world must have broken something in your mind."

"I am not crazy, Rowan," I whispered, leaning away from his touch. "I am the only one in this room who is sane."

Kieran stepped around the table, his expression unreadable. He didn't growl this time. He just looked at me with a heavy, pained kind of devotion. "It doesn't matter why you know these things. It only matters that you stay where I can see you. You aren't leaving this wing again. Not for the kitchens, not for the gardens. Not for anything."

"You can't keep me locked up forever," I said.

"Watch me," Kieran replied.

He turned to Rowan. "You. Stay with her. I'm going to the gate. I want every merchant, every servant, and every guard questioned. If there was a spy, I’ll find the trail he left behind."

Rowan nodded. "I'll stay. She won't leave my sight."

Kieran walked to the door, but before he left, he looked back at me. "I don't care if you're a prophet or a spy, Iris. You're mine. And I'll burn this whole forest down before I let anything happen to you."

He slammed the door, leaving me alone with Rowan.

The golden Alpha didn't say anything at first. He just picked up the fallen chair and sat in it, watching me pace. The tension was different now, less aggressive, but more suffocating. He wasn't a wall of muscle like Kieran; he was a web of observations.

"You really believe it, don't you?" Rowan said quietly after a while. "The fire. The deaths. You saw it."

"I did," I said, stopping by the balcony.

"Then tell me one thing," Rowan said, his golden eyes fixing on mine. "In this 'vision' of yours... who was I to you? Was I the man who stood by you? Or was I just another body in the ashes?"

The question caught me off guard. In the original script, Rowan had been my escape. He was the "choice" I was supposed to make to get away from Kieran’s intensity. But in the end, it hadn't mattered.

"You were a man I cared about," I said truthfully. "And you were a man I failed."

Rowan stood up and walked toward me, stopping just inches away. He didn't touch me, but the air felt charged with that "forbidden" energy the Author loved so much.

"You won't fail me this time," he whispered. "Because I'm not going to let the script end that way either."

He thought he was being romantic. He thought he was being a hero. He had no idea that he was just reciting his lines perfectly.

I looked out at the mist, which was finally starting to clear. I had saved the Alphas from a spy, but I had ended up even more trapped than before. I was the center of their world, and that was the most dangerous place to be.

"We'll see, Rowan," I whispered. "We'll see."