SAMANTHA
"Torment me?" I asked. "How?"
My voice came out smaller than I wanted. I hated that. I wanted to sound strong. Brave. Like someone who could not be broken.
But standing in a circle of three winged creatures who claimed to be my mates... it was hard to feel brave.
Jayce smiled. That cruel, beautiful smile.
"You know," he said, dragging out each word. "Let us just say... we will be your worst nightmare."
My stomach dropped.
Darlington—no, Clayton? I was getting confused. The one with the dark wings spoke next. He shook his head and stepped closer to me.
"Don't worry," he said. His voice was softer than Jayce's. Almost kind. "We will be calm with you."
Then the one with the silver wings—Finnian?—added, "Yeah. No need to be scared."
But then Darlington—the dark-winged one—spoke again. "I will not be your worst nightmare, don't worry. I will be a good angel." He paused. Tilted his head. "More like an angel devil."
I blinked. "What does that even mean?"
Before anyone could answer, Jayce's face changed.
The smile disappeared. His golden eyes turned hard. His wings stiffened behind him.
"Angel devil?" He spat the words out like they tasted bad. "Really, Darlington? You always have to be the saint. You always have to be the better one."
Darlington's jaw tightened. "I am not trying to be anything."
"Yes, you are." Jayce stepped closer to his brother. "You always want to be the good twin. The noble one. The one who treats the poor little slave with kindness while I play the villain."
"That is not—"
"Shut up." Jayce shoved him.
Darlington stumbled back one step. Then two. His wings flared out to catch his balance.
I watched with wide eyes.
Are they really fighting? Right now? In front of me?
Darlington recovered quickly. His face went dark. He shoved Jayce back.
"Do not touch me," Darlington growled.
"Or what? You will shift?" Jayce laughed. It was not a happy laugh. "Go ahead. Shift. I dare you."
Clayton—the silver-winged one—just stepped back. He crossed his arms and watched. His face showed no emotion. Like he had seen this happen a thousand times before.
"You always do this," Jayce said, pushing Darlington again. "You always try to be the better twin. The one Father likes more. The one the pack respects more."
"Maybe because I am better."
Jayce's wings shot out. The golden feathers caught the light.
"You are not better. You are just better at hiding what you really are."
"And what am I?"
"A monster. Just like me. Just like Finnian. Just like all of us." Jayce stepped closer. His face was inches from Darlington's. "The only difference is that I do not pretend to be something else."
Darlington's hands curled into fists. "Step back, brother."
"Make me."
"Step back or I will—"
"You will what?" Jayce shoved him again, harder this time. "You will hit me? Go ahead. Hit me. Show the little wolf what you really are."
Darlington swung.
His fist connected with Jayce's jaw. The sound echoed through the throne room—a sharp crack that made me flinch.
Jayce's head snapped to the side. He touched his jaw. Then he laughed.
"That all you got?"
He punched Darlington back.
And then they were fighting. Really fighting. Not the careful, controlled sparring I had seen between wolves before. This was messy. Angry. Brother against brother.
"You think Father likes you?" Jayce yelled, grabbing Darlington's collar. "He does not like any of us. He tolerates us. Because we are useful. Because we can breed. Because we can fight his wars."
"You are just bitter because I am the oldest," Darlington snarled, shoving Jayce against a marble column.
"Oldest by three minutes. It means nothing."
"It means everything."
"It means nothing!"
Jayce broke free and punched Darlington again. Then again. Darlington blocked the third punch and swept Jayce's legs out from under him.
They crashed to the floor in a tangle of wings and limbs.
I stumbled backward. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears.
What is happening?
Why are they fighting?
Over me?
Inside my head, Rynn was going crazy.
But not with fear.
With joy.
Yes, she cheered. Yes yes yes! Look at them! Fighting over us! This is wonderful!
Rynn, they are hurting each other.
Good! Let them! The stronger one wins! That is how it should be!
That is not how—
Do you see his wings? The golden ones? So beautiful. And the dark ones? So strong. And the silver ones... She sighed inside my head. I want to touch them all.
Rynn!
She did not care. She kept cheering. Kept hailing. Kept begging for more.
Fight! Fight! Fight! she chanted.
I wanted to be horrified. Maybe I was. But some small part of me—some deep, buried part—felt something else.
Wanted.
Jayce and Darlington rolled across the floor. They broke apart. They circled each other. Their wings were half-open, feathers ruffled, glowing in the light from the halos.
"You are such a child," Darlington said, wiping blood from his lip.
"And you are a liar," Jayce shot back. "You pretend to be calm. Controlled. But I see the way you look at her. I see the way your wolf strains against your skin."
Darlington's eyes flicked toward me. Just for a second.
Then back to Jayce.
"She is my mate too."
"Then stop pretending you are better than me. Stop pretending you would treat her any differently."
"I would never treat her the way you treat her. I would never corner her in a garden. I would never—"
"You would do worse." Jayce's voice dropped low. "You would lock her in a tower and call it protection. You would keep her from the world and tell yourself it was love."
Darlington's face went pale.
"That is not true."
"It is true. And you know it."
Finnian still stood to the side, watching. His silver wings were folded neatly behind him. His face was calm. Almost bored.
"Are you two done?" he asked.
"No," Jayce and Darlington said together.
They lunged at each other again.
This time, Jayce was faster. He grabbed Darlington by the shoulders and threw him against the wall. The impact shook the room. Dust fell from the ceiling.
"Step back, brother," Jayce said through gritted teeth.
"Make me."
Jayce pulled back his fist.
But he did not punch.
Instead, he turned.
His golden eyes found me.
Before I could move, before I could run, before I could do anything at all—he grabbed me.
His arm wrapped around my waist. His wings spread wide. And then we were flying.
The ground fell away beneath me. The thrones shrank. The columns blurred. My stomach dropped like I was falling, even though we were going up.
I screamed.
Jayce held me tighter. His feathers brushed against my arms, my back, my face. They were soft. Warmer than I expected.
We landed on a ledge at the top of the other side of the room.
High above the floor.
High above Darlington and Finnian.
High above everything.
Jayce set me down. His wings folded behind him. He looked at me with those golden eyes—cruel, amused, and something else. Something I could not name.
"Much better," he said.
Down below, Darlington was shouting.
But I could not hear the words.
All I could hear was my own heart.
And Rynn, still cheering inside my head.