Chapter 20: Why My Brother And Not Me

Lucian’s POV

​I could barely focus on a single word coming out of the elder’s mouth.

​He was going on and on about boundary patrols and territory agreements on the northern border, but my mind was completely somewhere else. I stared at the papers spread across the table in front of me, but I hadn’t heard a single word the elders had said for the past five minutes. That was unusual for me. I never lost focus during pack meetings, especially not meetings involving security, rebuilding plans, and the families still struggling after the war. These were things that demanded my full attention.

​Yet my mind kept returning to this morning. To Annabel. To the fear on her face when I refused to call a healer.

​I leaned back in my grand leather chair, tapping my long fingers rhythmically against the armrest, staring blindly at the mahogany table in front of me while rubbing a hand over my jaw. Why was I letting that girl get inside my head?

​Ever since this morning, a bitter, unpleasant taste had been sitting at the back of my throat. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way I had acted, refusing to send a healer to Annabel when she was clearly in pain.

​Was I really turning into the cold, ruthless monster everyone rumored me to be?

​Normally, I loved those rumors. I thrived on the fear they instilled in my enemies. I loved that people trembled when my name was spoken across territories. People had called me cruel for years, calling me the Beast, the Cold Alpha, or the monster of Full Moon Pack. I had never cared. Actually, I liked it. Fear made ruling easier; people thought twice before challenging me, and enemies stayed away from my borders because they knew exactly whose territory they were entering.

​So why was I suddenly sitting here questioning myself because one woman had looked at me like I was a monster? Maybe because, for the first time, I had actually felt like one. But right now, sitting in this room, a strange, suffocating weight pressed down on my chest. I felt like total shit.

​Why do I even care? I asked myself, clenching my jaw tightly.

​This was supposed to be my revenge. I was supposed to break her as payback for the war her pack caused. I hadn’t even properly started executing my revenge plan yet, and here I was, going soft over a bruised arm just because she had cried in front of me.

​Get a grip, Lucian, I snarled internally at myself. You are an Alpha. She is nothing to you.

​"Alpha Lucian?" The elder’s voice broke through my thoughts. "Should we dispatch the additional guards to the western tree line? Should we continue with the northern border report?"

​"Continue," I muttered tight-lipped, lasting another thirty seconds before my thoughts wandered again.

​The elder hesitated. "Alpha, we still have the eastern territory reports."

​I stood up abruptly, scraping my chair against the floor. Every eye in the room instantly snapped to me, exchanging confused looks.

​"The meeting is adjourned," I said, my voice cold and tight. "I am not feeling well. We will resume this tomorrow."

​That earned me several surprised looks. Wonderful. Now they probably thought I was dying. Without waiting for their reply or giving them a chance to ask questions, I turned on my heel and walked out of the council room, shutting the heavy doors behind me.

​The moment I stepped into the hallway, I released a slow breath. I needed air. I needed to clear my head and get back control over my own mind. I needed whiskey or sleep, preferably both.

​I headed toward the main living area, intending to go upstairs and lock myself in my room until whatever stupidity had entered my head disappeared. As I reached the grand staircase leading up to the private living quarters, a tall figure stepped into my path. Lucas.

​We hadn’t spoken a single word to each other since our heated argument in Annabel’s room this morning. He stood on the landing above me, looking down with those calculating eyes. I made a move to pass right by him without saying anything, but he spoke up.

​"Annabel won’t be playing the violin tonight," Lucas said calmly. "The festival... don’t expect her to perform. She sustained an injury to her arm, so let it pass. Don’t force her."

​I stopped in my tracks, slowly turning my head toward him. My eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown. "What about it?"

​"The healer confirmed it was fractured," Lucas answered calmly. "It’s been repaired, but she’ll have pain and weakness for another day or two."

​How the hell did Lucas know that, and I didn’t?

​"How do you know?" I demanded.

​"I was there."

​Something unpleasant tightened in my chest. "You were in her room?"

​Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Yes. Because unlike you, I stayed long enough to make sure someone actually called the healer."

​There it was. That irritating talent my brother had for saying exactly the thing that would piss me off. "Watch yourself, Lucas."

​"I’m terrified," he deadpanned.

​She was my wife. She was under my roof. Yet my brother was the one checking up on her and bringing me news about her condition. A dark spark of irritation ignited in my gut, but I didn’t say another word to him. I just gave him a cold look and walked past.

​Why did it bother me that Lucas knew about her injury before I did? It shouldn’t. I didn’t care. She wasn’t really my wife, at least that was what I kept telling everyone. Still, the marriage papers said otherwise. And apparently, my brother knew more about what was happening with my wife than I did. My wife. I frowned. When the hell had I started thinking of her like that?

​Instead of turning toward my own bedroom like I originally intended, my feet moved on their own, carrying me straight down the hallway toward her room.