(Greyson POV)
The Alpha found me soon after.
I knew he would. He always did.
The door slammed shut behind us.
I didn't flinch. I'd been expecting it since the moment my lips left Tilly's.
"Strip."
Father's voice was quiet. That was the worst part. When he was quiet, when he was calm—that was when he was most dangerous.
I didn't move.
"I said strip."
"I heard you."
"Then why are you still standing there like you have a choice?"
I smiled. It was bitter. Broken. The smile of a man who had nothing left to lose.
"I don't have a choice about anything else," I said. "Why would this be different?"
I pulled my shirt over my head. Let it fall to the floor. The air was cold on my skin, but I didn't shiver. I was done shivering.
"Kale, forgive—" Mother's voice echoed behind me. "Please, Kale. He's young. He's foolish. He didn't mean—"
"Didn't mean what, Mulan?" Father didn't look at her. His eyes were fixed on me. "Didn't mean to put his hands on another man's bride? Didn't mean to humiliate me in front of every noble in five kingdoms? Didn't mean to—"
"I meant every word I said to her." My voice was flat. Final "Every touch. Every kiss. I loved every second of it."
"Greyson!" Mother's scream was heartbreaking.
Father's jaw tightened. His hands curled into fists at his sides. But he didn't move. Didn't strike. Didn't raise his voice.
That was worse. I really outdid myself this time, huh?
"Keep going," Father said. "Pants too."
My hands went to my belt. My fingers moved automatically—buckle, button, lace. I'd done this before. Too many times to count.
My trousers pooled at my ankles. I stepped out of them.
Mother was crying now. Soft, choked sounds she tried to hide behind her hand.
"Please," she whispered. "Please, Kale. He's sorry. I know he's sorry. Greyson, tell him you are sorry. Come on, say it"
"No. I'm good, thank you" I murmured.
Mother reached for me without taking her eyes off of Kale.
"Greyson!" She stepped closer to me. "Kale, he's just eighteen. He doesn't—he is eighteen, a child. Please"
"Please what?" Father finally looked at her. "Don't punish him? Don't teach him that there are consequences for destroying everything I've built?"
"He's our son—"
"He's not my father" I mumbled from where I stood, Mulan reached across and pinched my mouth shut.
"Do you hear him? He's a liability, Mulan" Father turned back to me. "And I'm done being gentle with liabilities."
I stood in the center of the room in nothing but my smallclothes. My chest was bare. My arms hung loose at my sides. I didn't cover myself. Didn't try to hide.
I'd learned a long time ago that hiding only made it worse.
"Kale, please." Mother moved closer to me. Not touching—she knew better than that—but close. Guarding. "Whatever you're going to do—please. Not the belt. Not the—"
"I'm not going to touch him."
I blinked.
That was new.
Father always touched me. Always left marks. Always made sure I remembered exactly who's more powerful.
"Then what—"
Father walked to the cupboard in the corner. The one I'd been told never to open. The one that held things I didn't want to think about. The one he brought with him from Troita Moonhill.
The one that held them.
"No." The word came out before I could stop it. "No. You said—you promised—"
Father opened the cupboard.
Inside was a glass jar. Large. Round. The kind used for preserving meat or storing grain.
This jar didn't hold meat.
It was full of spiders.
"No. You wouldn't. You don't hate me that much"
They were small. Too many to count. Dark bodies pressed against the glass, legs tangled together, moving—always moving.
"No." My voice cracked like I was seven again"No. You wouldn't"
I took a step closer to my mother. Just like I did at seven. "Mammy"
"You brought this on yourself." Father carried the jar to the table in the center of the room. Set it down with a soft thunk that sounded like a death sentence. "You knew the rules. You knew what would happen if you disobeyed me again. If you coveted your brother's bride again"
"Please—"
"Please what, Greyson? Please be merciful? Please forget that you've ruined months of planning? Please pretend that you didn't put your mouth on a princess who was supposed to belong to your brother?"
My legs were shaking.
I hated that. Hated that my body remembered even when I tried to forget. Hated that I couldn't control the terror flooding through me.
"You said you wouldn't do this again." My voice came out strangled. Small. The voice of a child, not a man. "You promised me. Mama help"
I heard on to her tightly in terror.
Mother stepped between us.
"No."
Father's eyes narrowed. "Mulan—"
"No." Her voice was shaking, but she didn't move. "You are not doing this to him again. I told you what would happen if you did"
"Get out of my way."
"No."
"This doesn't concern you."
"He is my son." Her hands were spread wide, blocking me from his view. Protecting me.
"You do this to him. I will leave you, Kale. And I will take my children with me. The answer is no."
"Mulan—"
" I have watched you break him piece by piece since he was old enough to walk. I have held my tongue. I have swallowed my rage. I have told myself it was for the best. But I will not—I will not—stand here and watch you do this to him again."
"You don't have a choice, Mulan."
"Then do it. The first thing I will do as soon as I get to Troita moonhill is denounce our bond, Kale Dubois!"
Father took a step closer.
My legs gave out.
I didn't mean to fall. Didn't mean to crumple. But my body stopped listening. I hit the floor hard, my knees cracking against the wood, and I couldn't get up.
Couldn't breathe. Couldn't do anything except curl into myself—arms wrapped around my head, knees pulled to my chest, the smallest target I could make.
And for the first time in five years, I screamed his name very loudly. I called out to the only person who could stop him.
"Chase!!!"