Chapter 27
Liam’s POV
“What the hell was that?” I asked, my voice low and full of annoyance.
He ignored me, heading straight for the washbasin to scrub the stained blood from his hand.
“Is there something you want to tell me, Leo?” I pressed, finally turning to face him. I searched his expression for any sign of the truth, any crack in the armor he’d built around himself since we returned. “That wasn’t just ’discipline.’ You looked like you wanted to tear his soul out p>
“No,” he snapped, his voice tight and strained. He didn’t look at me. “Please, just leave me alone, Liam p>
I stared at him, my mind racing. A terrifying thought flickered in my mind—one I didn’t want to voice. Could Scarlett be his mate, too?
I quickly shook the thought away. No. That wasn’t it… The Moon Goddess wouldn’t be that cruel, and if she were, Leo would have said something. We were triplets; we were supposed to share everything.
Perhaps it was just that old, buried protectiveness resurfacing. Back when we were younger, Leo had always been the most intense when it came to Scarlett. I remembered a day when we were twelve and she was ten—she had almost tripped over a stone, and I had yelled at her to be careful. Leo had nearly fought me right there in the yard, warning me and telling me never to raise my voice at her again. He had always been so protective of her.
“Fine,” I said, letting out a sharp breath. I could see he wasn’t going to budge. “Get ready. The memorial is about to start p>
I didn’t wait for his answer. I walked out of the room, my own wolf pacing restlessly in my chest.
I stood on the balcony, my hands gripping the cold stone railing as I looked down at the garden. Everything was perfect. The white lilies, my mother’s favorite, were arranged in symmetrical rows, and the silver incense burners were already casting thin ribbons of smoke into the morning air.
My heart ached with a familiar, dull throb. It had been two years, but the hole she left behind felt just as cavernous. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. My mother was a powerful Luna, a woman of strength gifted with special abilities—how could she have been killed so easily? The story never sat right with me. Even now, I still found myself staring at her grave and asking questions no one could answer.
My gaze drifted from the flowers to the small figure moving among the servants. Scarlett.
My wolf let out a low, pained howl deep inside my chest. Today she had finally shifted. She had looked into my eyes and realized we were fated, and in that same moment, I had crushed her. I had told her I wanted a rejection. I had called her the daughter of traitors while my soul was screaming to claim her.
I watched her now, struggling with the heavy chairs, her movements stiff. Today was her twentieth birthday. A day that should have been marked by a celebration of her life was instead being spent in the service of a woman whose death her parents were blamed for. The irony was a bitter pill to swallow. I wondered about the level of pain she was carrying—the weight of my rejection combined with the physical exhaustion of being the pack’s scapegoat.
“You’re staring again p>
I didn’t need to turn to know it was Leon. He stepped up to the railing beside me, his presence cold and detached. He didn’t look at me; he kept his eyes fixed on Scarlett, who was now kneeling to adjust a stray ribbon on one of the memorial wreaths.
“Do you ever imagine life if things hadn’t turned sour?” Leon asked, his voice unusually quiet.
I nodded slowly, my throat tight. “Every single day p>
“By now,” Leon continued, a bitter smile playing on his lips, “we would have been fighting over her. It wouldn’t have been pretty p>
“I know it would have happened,” I admitted, my grip tightening on the stone railing until the edges bit into my palms. “I saw the signs back then. We were just kids, but the lines were already being drawn p>
It was the one thing we never talked about, but the truth was undeniable. We three loved Scarlett more than just a friend, and even back then, we didn’t want to share her. We were triplets; we shared a room, our clothes, our future titles, and even our thoughts—but Scarlett? Never. She was the only thing we couldn’t just “split” three ways.
Back when she was our best friend, if Leo took her to the creek, I’d be seething in the training yard. If I sat next to her at dinner, Leon would spend the entire night in a cold silence. We were possessive before we even knew what the word meant.
“We never liked sharing her,” Leon muttered, finally looking away from her to meet my eyes. His gaze was sharp, searching for something.
I looked away. I couldn’t tell him that my wolf was currently trying to leap off the balcony just to stand between her and the prying eyes of the pack. I couldn’t tell him that the hate I projected was the only thing keeping me from claiming her.
“It doesn’t matter what we wanted,” I said, my voice hardening. “The reality is what it is. She’s the daughter of the people who broke our family. We can’t have her or love her, Leon. Not now, not ever p>
Leon let out a dry, humorless chuckle. “Tell that to Leo. He looked like he was ready to start a war for her in that shed p>
He turned and began to walk away toward the stairs. “Come on. Father is waiting. It’s time for the memorial p>
I took one last look at Scarlett. She had finished with the ribbon and was standing up, wiping a stray hair from her face. For a split second, she looked up, her eyes meeting mine across the distance. The pain in her stare was a physical blow to my chest.
But I turned away as fast as I could and walked away.