Chapter 77

Evelyn

The tension in the council chamber was so thick I could feel it on my skin like humid air. It was hot and pulsing.

I sat to the right of my father, the Alpha King, but I was unconsciously leaning toward the person to my left. Logan. The man who hadn’t stopped staring at me since I entered the room. The fire crackling in the hearth behind him threw shifting shadows across his cheekbones, painting him in flickering shades that softened his features. I had to forcibly tear my gaze away to keep from staring.

Something between us had shifted since he’d handed those divorce papers to me. I couldn’t shake the softness in his gaze, the way he had gently asked me to try again. And I couldn’t dismiss the feeling in me that I might just want to do that too.

But now was not the time to linger on something as petty as divorce.

My father hadn’t spoken yet. He stood instead, pacing slowly in front of the long oak table, the remnants of the treaty I had drafted laid out before us.

No one dared speak until the Alpha King spoke first.

Then, finally, he stopped pacing. He lifted the treaty with two fingers, pinching the parchment like it was something unsavory.

And then, wordlessly, he ripped it down the middle with a sharp, deliberate tear.

“Diplomacy,” he said, his voice cutting through the room like a blade, “is no longer an option. Not after what Jesse did to our healer. He has shown that he cannot be trusted.”

The pieces of parchment fluttered to the ground like autumn leaves, discarded and dead. My heart thudded against my ribs.

“Evelyn was kidnapped, tortured, and lied to. She is one of our own and an Alpha’s wife,” he continued. His eyes scanned the room, landing briefly on me before shifting to Logan and Alex. “That alone would have been enough. But these rogues have proven time and time again that they cannot be reasoned with. No more discussions. No more negotiations. We are done.”

Alex, at the far end of the table, stiffened. “What would you have me do, Your Majesty?”

“I want the rogue camp reduced to ash.” My father’s voice was flat, merciless. “Scorched earth. Set fire to every tent. Smoke them out like the cowards they are. But bring Jesse back alive.”

Alive.

The word dripped with purpose. There would be no clean execution, no swift justice. My father wanted answers, likely ones that could only be drawn out through pain.

Logan’s eyes flicked toward me, and I realized I had been looking at him for his reaction. This was his half-brother we were discussing. But in his gaze, I could see only sympathy for me. I could tell even through this mute exchange that he would allow me to choose whatever route I wished. If it was revenge I wanted, he would assist me. If I wanted to stay true to my initial motivation for peace, he would stand back and allow it all to play out.

“And you,” my father said, turning to Logan now. “You’re one of the best trackers we have, and you’ve already been into the rogue camp multiple times. You find him. You bring him to us. I want him breathing when I look him in the eye and make him pay for all of the blood he’s spilled.”

Logan gave a curt nod, his voice calm and low. “Yes, Your Majesty. It will be done.”

But then his eyes returned to me, solid and questioning.

I swallowed hard, feeling the heat rush to my face. “Then I’m coming too.”

That earned a few shocked glances. Even Alex raised a brow.

My father’s expression hardened. “Absolutely not.”

“With all due respect,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady, “he took me. He tried to break me. I deserve to be there when he falls. And I think I’ve earned my position in part of this kidnapping. An eye for an eye..”

“You’ve only just recovered,” Alex said cautiously. “What happens if you get hurt again?”

My father flinched slightly at the suggestion. So did Logan. But it was Logan who spoke first, surprising everyone in the room.

“She should come.”

My gaze snapped back to him. But now, he was looking at the Alpha King, meeting the King’s aghast expression with one of fierce determination. He had no intention of backing down on this. Something behind my ribs stirred.

My father narrowed his eyes. “Excuse me?”

Logan’s voice didn’t waver. “She’s right. Jesse made it personal. She’s earned the right to see this through. And truthfully, her insight might give us the upper hand. She knows the camp better than I do. She was in there, walking among their people, for days, learning the layout and where they might have set any traps. It would be foolish to leave her behind.”

It took everything in me not to let my jaw drop. Logan and I had barely spoken since he handed me those divorce papers, and now, suddenly, he was championing my presence in battle? It was especially odd given that he had once shouted at me to stay off the battlefield. Yes, something had certainly changed between us since then. I had earned his respect and, given his soft expression… perhaps something more.

My father looked between us. Then, finally, after a long pause, he gave a sharp nod. “Fine. But she stays under your watch, Logan. I don’t want a scratch on her.”

“Understood. I won’t let anyone even breathe too hard around her.” It sounded like a hyperbole, but his tone was serious.

“Good.” My father stepped away from the table, dismissing us. “Alex, begin preparations. We move before dawn.”

As the others began to shuffle out of the council room, Logan fell into step beside me. We didn’t speak until we were out in the hall, walking side by side down the long corridor lit with gold lanterns. I was aware of his closeness all the while, and the delicious scent of pine wafting off of him, so calming and familiar.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I murmured.

“I know,” he said. “But I meant what I said.”

We paused near a window overlooking the city below. The wind stirred my hair. He turned to me and caught a lock of my errant hair before it could flutter onto my face. He tucked it behind my ear to keep it from being disturbed by the wind again, and the brush of his fingers against me nearly made me shudder.

“Are you really ready for this?” he asked.

I looked up at him, and for once, the weight between us didn’t feel like ropes binding us; it felt like fuel.

“Yes,” I said. “I want him to look at me and know he didn’t win.”

He nodded once. “He should pay for what he did to you. We’ll make a plan and set things right.”

He stepped closer, and for the first time in weeks, our hands brushed. The contact was accidental. Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was like the hair a moment before. Maybe it was intentional. Regardless, I didn’t move away from it.

I stared into his eyes, seeing the same determination I felt reflected in them: Jesse had started a war. We were going to finish it.