Page 158 of Awakened

Soren’s hand covers mine, stilling the jerky, frantic movements of my fingers picking and twisting the fabric of my new leggings. His fingers wrap around mine and squeeze gently.

“I’m so sorry, Little Mate,” he murmurs. A furrow appears between his brows, and I curl my free hand into a fist so I don’t reach up and smooth it away. “This has been incredibly insensitive of all of us. We should have asked you for your opinion from the start.”

“This is your choice, sweetheart,” Caelan adds, his voice solemn but gentle.

Didn’t they just spend the last twenty minutes arguing about what I should or shouldn’t do? Now they’re saying this is suddenly my choice?

“You don’t want me to go. Either of you,” I point out.

Are they truthfully willing to let me decide just because Branwen asked if anyone had bothered to ask my opinion? Did they genuinely just forget to ask what I wanted, or do they not really mean it?

Is this one of those situations where I’m supposed to pretend like I want to do what my Alphas want to do to keep the peace?

Caelan sighs, repositioning his chair to mirror Soren’s position.

“I won’t lie to you; I want you to stay right here, with me, where I know you’re safe. The thought of you facing what’s possibly waiting, let alone walking into a basement with floor-to-ceiling runes made from your own blood—it makes me sick with fear. As much as I wish I could, I can’t make this decision for you, Idril. My instincts—both as an Alpha and as your Mate—are screaming at me to lock you in my rooms where I know you’ll stay safe.”

“Why don’t you?” I ask, bracing myself for his answer. I need to know, though.

His lips tip up at the corners in a gentle smile as, without even having to be asked, he opens his side of the Bond completely. I gasp. It’s almost overwhelming, like being inside his very soul. I can feel everything, from the lingering exhaustion he hasn’t yet shaken off after his injuries to the undeniable intensity of his love for me.

My eyes fill with tears. I concentrate on my side of the Bond until it opens fully as well. It’s clumsy and untrained, but after practicing with Soren this afternoon, I think I’m starting to get the hang of it.

Caelan reaches out and cups my cheek with his palm, and in this moment, it’s like no one else exists in the world except the two of us.

I look to Soren, who nods in agreement. “Caelan’s right. I don’t want you to go, either, but I know how important this is for you. You need to make this decision for yourself, and if you decide to go… I’ll accept that. And I’ll support you however I can. Always.”

They really mean it. They’re telling me the truth. They really, truly, are willing to go against their instincts and follow my lead.

It hits me like a punch to the gut. For the first time in my entire life, I’m the one who decides what’s best for me. This is really, truly, my decision.

“I…”

I glance up and scan the room, heart hammering against my ribs.

“Are you alright?” Soren reaches out and rests his fingers against the thin skin of my wrist, counting the beats of my pulse. As gently as I can manage, I pull at the mental curtain separating our Bonds until just a crack remains like before. Caelan frowns, but doesn’t say anything.

“I’m alright,” I tell Soren, glancing up and scanning the room like the answer to what I should do will jump out at me or something.

It doesn’t, but Branwen catches my eye and gives me an encouraging smile, which is the next best thing.

I scoot my chair closer to the desk so I feel like I’m actually a part of the discussion instead of the subject being discussed. Taking a deep breath, I muster every bit of courage I can and ask, “Am I going to be in trouble if I want to go?”

“There’s no punishment, Idril,” Caelan swears. “No matter what you decide. That isn’t how we⁠—”

His words die off mid-sentence. The air in the room thickens as everyone realizes that yes, that’s exactly how the Bastards do things around here.

I shouldn’t have asked. This will only make things worse. But before I can take the question back, Caelan shoots from his chair and turns a furious glare on Gavran at the head of the table.

“You—” he snarls, pointing at him. “You’re the reason why she even has to ask that. Everything that happened since the moment she set foot in this nightmare only reinforced all the abuse she endured from her father. You fucking realize that, don’t you?”

Gav nods solemnly.

“Tell her she’s not going to be punished. Tell her right the fuck now, or I’ll take her and leave, and you can all go fuck yourselves.”

Branwen clears her throat, and when Caelan swings his rage-filled glare on her, she murmurs, “Remember what we discussed…”

“No,” Caelan barks. “Not this time. I’m not asking for a fucking explanation; I’m asking for some reassurance for my Mate so she can live without fear that someone’s going to punish her for breaking some non-existent fucking rule.”