229 The Poison Within
Darian
I woke before the sun, my mind already busy. Lucian and I exchanged a few words through the mind link-quiet, efficient, the way we’d always been. But I didn’t tell him everything. Not yet.
He needed this morning. A few precious hours of peace with Mara before I shattered the stillness with talk of our crumbling military. Let him breathe first. Let him hold her.
As I buttoned my shirt and adjusted the collar, I felt Tiffany’s eyes on me. Her brows were drawn, lips pursed in that gentle disapproval I’d come to know too well.
“Did your brother not just return?” she asked, crossing her arms. The words were soft, but the weight behind them was heavy. She thought I was running off to play Alpha again.
I couldn’t help but laugh-quiet, low, amused. I turned to face her fully, taking in the woman I’d chosen, the one who still
hadn’t chosen me back in the way I hoped.
“No, baby. I’m not resuming anything,” I said, smoothing the fabric of my shirt with care. “I promised Father I’d spend time with him at the hospital today. He needs to hear something good. Something hopeful. Lucian’s return… it’s the kind of
news that could light his spirit again.”
Her expression softened as she turned to check on Emma, our little girl curled up in the crib, a peaceful anchor in our complicated world. Then she walked over and pressed a kiss to my cheek-gentle, grounding.
“Thank the goddess your brother is back,” she said quietly. “Mara will finally come back to herself. I’ve missed her… I had to start hanging out with my mother just to stay out of her way.”
I chuckled and pulled Tiffany into my arms, holding her close as I breathed her in. My lips found the soft skin of her neck -right where my mark should be. She sighed, a sound that stirred something primal in me.
“Marry me,” I whispered against her skin. “Let’s make this real. Let’s be a proper family.”
It was the same plea I made every morning. And like every morning, she gently pulled away.
“You promised you wouldn’t trouble me about this, Darian,” she said, her voice quiet but firm.
I gave her a sheepish look and mimed zipping my lips shut. The gesture made her laugh, and I stole one last kiss before walking out the door-heart heavy, but hope still flickering in my chest.
I arrived at the hospital later than planned. The roads leading out of the estate and into the city were jammed. A peaceful protest, they called it-though there was nothing peaceful about the rage in their voices or the venom scrawled across their placards. I saw words like traitor, tyrant, starve us to death, and Lucian, speak to your people! They had been told he’d been kidnapped, and still they demanded a public address. As if trauma wasn’t enough. As if they were owed more than we’d already sacrificed.
The hypocrisy stung.
These people-our people-had no idea what it cost to keep them safe. The Nighthorns had bled for this city, buried kin for its peace. Mooncrest was broke, yes. We were surviving off Driftwake’s generosity. But was that our fault? Were we not doing everything in our power to hold the line?
I gripped the wheel tighter and forced my eyes back on the road, trying to drown out the rising tide of anger. But their faces lingered-accusing, ungrateful. And beneath my anger… there was something else. A hollow ache. This city no longer looked at us like protectors. We were monsters now, cloaked in crowns.
1/2
<229 The Poison Within
+8 Points>
By the time I made it to the hospital, I was exhausted-and not just from the drive.
My father sat quietly on the couch in my mother’s room, a worn book in hand. The picture of calm. The scent of disinfectant and stillness clung to the air like grief. He looked up when I entered, his smile soft and fleeting. Then his eyes went back to her-like they always did.
“How are you?” he asked.
I nodded, unsure how to answer. I sank into the chair beside him and followed his gaze to the bed.
My mother looked… peaceful. But it was a peace that felt too still, too final. Her body had grown thinner, frailer. She was clean, cared for, but fading. And still, he lingered. Still, he waited.
I didn’t ask if there was any change. That would’ve been cruel.
“If only she was this peaceful when she was awake,” he muttered, the ghost of a smile on his lips.
“If she was peaceful at all,” I replied, and we both chuckled. A sad, quiet sound.
He closed the book on his lap and rubbed a hand over his face. “I know I sound like a madman,” he said, “but I still want
her to wake up. Just for a moment. Just long enough to… explain.”
I looked at him then-really looked. The redness in his eyes, the worn edge to his voice. He wasn’t waiting out of love
anymore. He was waiting for answers. For closure.
Lacy’s revelations had shattered everything we thought we knew. To learn that the woman he built his life with might
never have truly been his… it was a cruelty no one deserved.
He wanted her to wake up and say it wasn’t true. To look him in the eye and offer a reason for the lies, the betrayal. For the
years spent living under false vows.
I didn’t blame him.
Because no matter how strong we pretend to be, no warrior, no Alpha, no Nighthorn can survive without truth. And only
she held it.
