Wren's POV

Tirlem
“My father... I must contact him.” I tighten my knees against my chest, trying not to tremble.
“Kilian, do you hear me?” No matter how hard I grip myself, my balance keeps tittering on this single mattress for bed. I need a fix. Anything will do at this stage—whiskey, sleeping pills, tranquilizers, whatever is to take.
Click. Claaack
“I hear you, pup.”
Busy cleaning his weapons, his naked back is all my eyes can glance at. It’s scarred beyond simple laser impacts. There’s a coil to my heart to think I recognize whip lashes. The shit he must have gone through since he was a child... I won’t ask.
I don’t want to know.
Not now.
Let’s just keep my focus on these muscles tensing to each of his moves as he unlocks, cocks, slides, and whatever assembling he’s doing with them. He’s got a complete collection of snipers, laser gun machines, and other pistols shelved next to each other, under each other, stacked in never-ending rows. And as some charge on their crystal stations, the entire wall glows blue—Kilian, the spitting image of a rebel leader, from gun to toe.
I didn’t even know these were there until Kilian pressed a small button next to the sidewall. It went completely unnoticed by me. And here I was, gawking at the wall as it flipped over, revealing military gear out of this world.
World...
...War.
I dock my chin on my kneecaps, hoping to get a reply from Kilian. As long as I ask him nicely, he will comply. He has to.
But then, what if the outcome isn’t what I expect of it. I’ve been obsessing over my father’s reaction. Will he turn his back on me, give me the roast of my life?..
Or allow bombs to rain on us?
The mere thought of it sinks my eyes into the sheets. In his bed, I feel safe and don’t want to leave it. I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m drained, drained about absolutely everything.
And what about these wolves. Parts of souls that don’t belong to me! I don’t know who I am anymore. Nor who is my dad.
My father?..
Hayden.
Alpha of Pallamir.
A ruthless warmonger...
Fuck!
“Kilian?” I semi-dare, tears of sweat glistening down my brows. I keep wiping them away, but they keep coming back.
“We grew up together.” Bret’s wistful face keeps haunting me as I tick like a metronome, craving some pills.
I fucking hate myself more than ever. And now that I’m feeling this way, this hatred ultimately goes gravitating toward my father, towards Bret. I can’t hate someone I turned against!? I left my family behind and betrayed them. How am I supposed to feel? What should I feel!?
“Kilian, give me something. Ask Laura. Whatever it takes! Please!”
He pauses, a gun in his hands. The whole morning Kilian has been working on this arsenal. He needs a break. If not, I need one!
“No.”
No?!
“No, what?! No, I can’t talk to my father, or no, I can’t have a pill?”
“Both.”
I paw the mat to crawl onto this floor that is nothing but glazed cement and try to gather myself up. But I can’t even muster the strength. A withdrawal like this is worse than being shaken in a vintage tumbler. Imagine being awkwardly spun like a forgotten sock—worthless and lost.
“Listen, I’m trying to absorb this crazy shit that has become my life. Bret was like a brother...” Fuck, I’m crying again. “Let me talk to him.”
Kilian’s shoulders slump, his sigh irritating me to the core.
My face becomes a mess of lines. “Am I a burden to you?..”
“Calm down. You’re upset.”
Rule number uno: never tell a woman to calm down when it’s FUCKING LEGIT.
I try to keep my cool as a thin voice sweeps across my stressed lips, my finger in his face closing a gap with my stupid thumb! “A tad. But I mean just a tad, Kilian.”
“It’s because of those pills of yours. You’re emotional. It’s ok,” self-proclaimed Doctor Kilian says, pulling his gaze away from me every effing second to fix it on his gun.
Emotional? The man is going to die.
“You keep telling me my life wasn’t what it was, calling me with this name that is In-”
A whirl of heels whips Kilian’s eyes to mine. “Don’t say it!” he brutally cuts.
“Why?”
“Don’t say the name. Just-just don’t.”
He crouches enough to meet me at eye level, his feet stamping lightly, and digs into his pocket.
“Look, Nath- um... Laura gave me those.” Out of them comes a tiny silver box. There is an old look to it.
“What is this?”
“It’s a...some opioid agonist. It’s... it’s to help you. Take one.”
Just like that?..
I smell a rat.
“Thanks.” My tongue dances around this strange pill. It’s minty and sweet, flavored with honey and pine.
The little-!
I won’t say a word.
It’s nothing but some mint.
Candy of no value.
He’s subduing me, thinking it could have a placebo effect on me.
I’m in need, not want. Need. So, I clamp my arms around Kilian and hug him fiercely, my weeping wetting his chest. How can I blame him for helping me?
“We’ll make something out of this mess. I promise... How does it taste, little wolf?”
“It’s a cough pastille, Kilian,” I snivel. Sexy Wren, hellooo? No? Not here...
“No, it’s not,” he whispers, several scratches behind his neck.
I’ll kiss him for this white lie. “Ok..”
“Yeah, it is,” he admits, returning my kiss ten times more. “And now, I can’t get away from your lips. Look at me?!” he teases in a raspy voice that makes my tongue curdle. “Completely addicted to you...”
After a moment, I feel a hand wrap itself over my jaw, lifting my weak-ass face to meet his iridescent eyes.
“The outcome of this war is on our side, Spades. There’s no need.”
“You don’t understand. He’s King Daryl’s first ally for a reason. Pallamir’s military force. My father’s going to crush us!”
Anger and fright consume my insides as I turn my head to the side.
And then...
I fucking freeze, staring at this massive window beam leading to the airstrip.
It’s empty of jets! What happened to Cromancer ships? Why did they disappear!?
“Kilian, what’s going on?” I stutter, my gaze stuck on this suddenly abandoned runway that looks like nothing but a scene from a horror movie.
