Kael.
"You were frad... wrongfully." The young man who was probably around our age said slowly. Coldly. His voice so deep and so sharp, it had so stuck in place, one would think he’d compelled .
But it wasn’t his voice or the words that he spoke that had this much hold on . It was his eyes. His familiar eyes that seed to bore into my soul. It was his face too— hairless, smooth oval...and almost ladylike that pulled in like a damn magnet. It was unlike anything I’ve ever seen, and if I didn’t know better, I would have said that he was a woman in disguise.
As if knowing my line of thoughts, he smirked. His eyes trailed from my face to my lips tentatively and then he lowered his eye smugly, "...if you release that woman, Alpha, despite everything she’s done— even if you’re doing it because you know she’s grieving— your people will hate you for it. They would question your judgnt... and you would be killing the one woman who you should have killed seven years ago."
Those words, so lightly spoken made my chest tight with emotions. I closed my eyes briefly and gulped, hoping to open my eyes and see that this was all a dream, an hallucination...
It was not.
"What is your na?"
I could swear that I had seen him sowhere. That this was not the first ti I was encountering him or talking to him. That—
"Jon." The guard answered in that tone that was almost feminine, rattled .
It took a mont to rember where I’d heard that na from before and when I realized that it was from Zevran, that he was the guard he strangely trusted, doubt crept up my mind.
"Tell Jon, why do you look so familiar?" I asked, half expecting him to brush off or to tell about how I’ve probably seen his face one ti too many around here. However none of that prepared for his response. He drawled;
"Because I am... familiar, Alpha." He answered without missing a beat. He sounded cocky too. "My sister was Jennifer. She wa not just my sister but my twin sister."
I froze.
As soon as I heard this words, I could swear that my throat instantly went dry. My heart began to pound against my chest as well. And a feeling akin to regret and sha coursed through my veins almost instantaneously, leaving with the strange strong urge to walk away from this conversation before it gets even more painfully embarrassing.
I took a tentative step forward, but instead of moving back, he stood tall, his chin set but his eyes downcast. He said;
"I know that my sister was not raped by you or any of your brothers. I know that you would never hurt her because you saw her not as a friend but as a sister... and I know that you invited her to that party not to kill her but to talk to her. Logan and his cohorts raped her brutally and pinned her death on you..."
As his voice trailed off, I swallowed thickly and dropped my head to hide the tears now burning at the back of my eyes.
And do you know why?
Do you know why I find his words so painful to listen to? Why it feels as though he’s scrapping my heart raw and leaving it to bleed all over this ancient rug we’d bought at an auction just to flaunt our wealth and show power?
Because it was true.
Because we really never hurt Jennifer. And because no one ever believed that to he true.
The case had been swept under the rug by our father, not because he was sure of our innocence but because he believed we did it. And he would rather die than condemn his heirs to a terrible fate.
No one believed us. Not even our mother.
Yet, here he was... the twin of the murdered girl, telling exactly what I have always wanted to hear.
"But how do you know this?" I couldn’t help but ask, seemingly both amazed and stunned.
I watched him lower his head and shake it. I watched him shove his hands behind his back. His eyes suddenly took on a strange kind of expression... one of sadness and guilt... and regret. Yet none of those feelings could surmount the pain swirling in his eyes so brightly, it was brighter than day.
He said; "Because I never closed the case even after the court did. Because I never let it go knowing fully well that it was the one thing that tore my family apart."
"Oh..."
"My father started to drink, my mother lost her spark. She was always staring into space, always singing so inaudible song. Her eyes always held tears... and whenever she cooked, there was always a mistake; the salt being too much, the steak being completely raw, the rice not cooked at all... you na it."
"But those could have just been what they are: errors!" I snapped, my mouth closing when he shook his head at .
"They were not errors. Not when she’s always been a chef. A Michelin star chef."
My heart broke.
By the gods, I could swear I literally heard it shatter in my chest, bits and pieces of it dissolving into my bloodstream until all that was left was the clumps of broken tissues.
His voice was thick— so thick with emotion— as he continued; "Soone of her calibre was never ant to make such mistakes."
Then he shrugged and waved his hands dismissively, but I didn’t miss the way he sneakily wiped at the corners of his eyes to clean off his tears. He said; "So as I was saying Alpha, I never closed the case even though we were being forced to. I got to find out that she was raped by so boys from this pack and a few thugs. And that they were paid to do so..."
"By Chalice?" Soone said from behind , and I turned around just then to see Zevran and Caelum leaning against the wall, their eyes as stony as rocks as they regarded him.
"When did you both get there?" I asked softly, but they never answered my question. They never even looked at .
"Yes, Luna Chalice ordered it... and I have proof in the form of a recording of her confessing to this cri."
I cocked my eyebrows at him. "How?" But when he wouldn’t respond right away, I tried again, "how do you have it?"
He sighed. "She was desperate and I was strategic. I promised to help her out of her cell. I lied that Louis had confessed to the cri. So she confessed to ordering the boys to rape my sister... and to starting the fire that happened earlier at the dungeons."
"She what?" I snarled,
"She’s getting sloppy." Zevran comnted andI couldn’t help but agree more, but at the sa ti, sothing didn’t sit well with .
"How did she start the fire?" I asked coldly. But he didn’t exactly respond. He simply shrugged at and said;
"Maybe you should ask her."
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