Page 206 of Infernal Secrets

The only one who didn’t inspire unease at the thought of sharing my Nyrith mate was Ash. My brother. My best friend.

Not that I didn’t see Zeke and Cyn as my brothers. They simply didn’t understand me the way Ash did.

Ash would let me explore my unique needs while ensuring I never crossed the line.

If anyone could handle all of me, it’d be my Nyrith.

I indulged in natural pleasures like everyone else, keeping my control tight, afraid of what might happen if I loosened my iron grip on my shadows. I didn’t want to kill my bedmate.

But my shadows? They sought only to destroy.

“I can’t do this,” Cyn said, cutting through my increasingly dark thoughts before fleeing upstairs.

I didn’t want to entertain Ash’s line of thinking, either.

And yet, something deep inside burned, low and relentless, urging me to find a way into Cholian and stop Father’s plans before it was too late.

50

THREAT

CYN

In. Out. In. Out.

I focused on my breathing, fighting the urge to shift and eliminate the threat I sensed lurking in every corner as I entered my darkened bedroom.

I yanked my shirt off and tossed it into the basket at the foot of my bed.

Turning on the bedside lamp, I stalked across the room, stopping at the dresser near the ensuite door when my reflection caught my attention. Twin voids stared back from the mirror. So much for control.

I scoffed.

I didn’t need control the way Ezra did.

I needed structure. Certainty.

Not whatever Raelynn brought into our lives.

Of the four of us, I was the unpredictable one. I created chaos. I knew my short fuse and accepted it. To hell with anyone who didn’t.

At least I knew my chaos. I knew the fallout.

Others changing the script? That was the problem.

I didn’t do uncertainty. Uncertainty brought threats.

Threats to safety, sanity, and my family.

With Raelynn came uncertainty.

Raelynn was uncertainty. She threatened to tear apart our brotherhood and splinter the grip I kept on my own life.

She didn’t shy away from my violence—much. She challenged me.

No one challenged me.

For twenty-two years I’d made my peers and elders cower when I needed them to.