Sacrificed To The Triplet Alpha Kings

Garrett’s stomach dropped. ”Yes, High Elder.”

”An unusual injury for someone who wasn’t present at the meeting itself,” Aldric said quietly. ”I understand she collapsed the same night her husband was executed. Grief alone doesn’t typically induce a coma of that nature.” His eyes held Garrett’s, patient and unhurried. ”I find myself curious what exactly happened to her. But that’s a question for another day, I think.”

Garrett said nothing, his throat suddenly tight.

”You may go,” Aldric said, turning his attention back to his tea, the dismissal absolute.

Garrett left the study with his composure barely intact, walking quickly through the corridor until he was well clear of the guest wing before allowing himself to exhale. His hands, he realized, were trembling slightly.

He found himself thinking of Cassandra lying still in the medical wing, of the strange, sudden nature of her collapse that no doctor had ever fully explained. He thought of Victor, a man who’d served faithfully for over a decade with no history of discontent, suddenly and inexplicably a traitor.

He’d never let himself ask the questions Aldric had just asked so plainly. He’d accepted the official account the same way everyone else had, because questioning it had never seemed necessary, and because the Blackwoods’ wrath had made further inquiry feel like a luxury no one could afford.

Now, walking back toward the main hall with Aldric’s words still echoing in his ears, he wondered for the first time whether he’d simply been the second man in this whole affair too afraid to look closely at a story that had never quite made sense.

He pushed the thought down before it could take root any further. Whatever the truth was, it wasn’t his to chase. Lilith was leaving in three days. Whatever secrets lived buried in that alliance meeting would leave with her, carried into Blackwood territory, far beyond Shadowmere’s borders and Garrett’s responsibility.

He told himself that was enough. He told himself it had to be.

But as he made his way back to the Summit’s afternoon proceedings, he found he couldn’t quite shake the weight of Aldric’s final words, or the image of Cassandra’s still, unexplained silence, or the quiet, dawning suspicion that Shadowmere’s carefully maintained story had far more cracks in it than anyone currently sitting in that hall was prepared to admit.

***

The Summit was closing.

Lilith could feel it in the air the moment she stepped outside that morning, the compound humming with a different kind of energy than it had all week. Carriages being prepared near the front gates. Visiting alphas exchanging final pleasantries with their hosts. The formal tents in the courtyard slowly being dismantled by tired staff who’d been awake since dawn.

By tomorrow, Shadowmere would belong to Shadowmere again. And by tomorrow, she wouldn’t belong to it at all.

She found Emma during the midday lull, when duties briefly slowed enough for both of them to slip away to the small garden behind the omega quarters.They sat together on the low stone bench, shoulders touching, the late afternoon sun warm against their skin.

”I keep thinking of things I want to say to you,” Emma admitted, staring out at the garden rather than at Lilith. ”And then when I try to say them, none of it feels like enough.”

”You don’t have to say anything perfect,” Lilith said. ”You never have.”

Emma laughed softly, though it came out a little broken. ”I remember the first week you were brought down to the omega quarters. You wouldn’t talk to anyone. You’d just sit in the corner of the dining hall with your food untouched, staring at nothing.” She glanced at Lilith now. ”I used to bring my tray over and sit next to you even when you didn’t want company. Do you remember that?”

”You never asked if I wanted company,” Lilith said, smiling despite the ache building in her chest. ”You just showed up.”

”Because I knew you needed it, even if you didn’t know it yet.” Emma reached into the pocket of her dress and pulled out something small, closing her palm around it before holding it out to Lilith. ”I want you to have this.”

Lilith opened her hand beneath Emma’s, and a small carved wooden bird dropped into her palm, worn smooth from years of handling, one wing slightly chipped.

”My grandmother carved it for me before she died,” Emma said quietly. ”She told me birds carry messages between people who can’t be together. I don’t know if that’s true. But I want you to have it anyway. So some part of home travels with you.”

Lilith’s eyes burned. She closed her fingers around the small bird, holding it against her chest. ”Emma, I can’t take this from you.”

”You can, and you will,” Emma said firmly, though her voice wavered. ”I need you to have something to hold onto out there. Something that isn’t them. Something that’s just us.”

Lilith pulled her into a tight hug, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. Emma held on just as fiercely, her fingers gripping the back of Lilith’s dress like she could keep her here through sheer force of will.

”I’m going to miss you so much it’s going to hurt,” Emma whispered against her shoulder.

”I know,” Lilith said. ”I’m going to miss you too.”

They stayed like that for a long moment, holding on, neither willing to be the first to let go. When they finally pulled apart, Emma wiped roughly at her eyes, forcing a small, watery laugh.

”You have to call me,” Emma said. ”I want to know everything. Even the parts that scare you. Especially the parts that scare you.”

”I promise,” Lilith said.

”And you have to tell me if they’re not treating you right,” Emma continued, some of her earlier fierceness returning. ”I don’t care how powerful they are. I don’t care what kind of mate bond exists between you. If they hurt you, I want to know.”