"You canât be serious," Lucian said. He moved toward the desk, his movements sharp and agitated. "You can FEEL whatâs happening, Nicholas. You can feel the bond. Sheâs our mate. We canât just let her leave."
"We can," Nicholas said, finally looking up from his desk. His silver eyes were cold, controlled, but there was a flicker of something else underneath....pain, perhaps. Or regret. "And we will."
"Why?" Lucian demanded. The question came out like a curse. "Give me one reason why we would find our mate and then let her go?"
Nicholas set down his pen with deliberate care. When he spoke, his voice was measured, but every word landed like a hammer.
"Because," he said slowly, "she didnât choose this. She didnât choose us. She was brought here under false pretenses and traumatized in ways we are still trying to understand. And forcing a mate bond on her, forcing her to stay, would be the cruelest thing we could possibly do."
"It would be survival," Lucian shot back. "Do you have any idea whatâs going to happen to us when she leaves? Do you feel what Zev is doing? Do you understand that our wolves are going to suffer in ways we canât even comprehend?"
Sebastian made a sound, something between a groan and a curse. He stood from the chair and began pacing, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
"Heâs right," Sebastian said quietly, not looking at either of his brothers. "When she leaves, weâre going to break. All three of us. The bond is already formed, weâre bonded to her whether weâve marked her or not. Losing her is going to destroy us."
Nicholasâs jaw tightened slightly. It was the first crack in his control.
"I know," he said quietly.
The words hung in the air between them.
"You know?" Lucianâs voice rose. "You KNOW that losing her is going to destroy us, and youâre still insisting we let her go? Thatâs not strategic thinking, Nicholas. Thatâs self-destruction."
"Itâs ethics," Nicholas replied coldly. "Itâs the only decision we can live with."
Lucian moved around the desk until he was standing directly in front of his oldest brother. His entire frame was vibrating with barely contained energy. His golden eyes were so bright they looked almost feverish.
"Ethics?" Lucian laughed, and it was a broken sound. "Ethics wonât keep us sane when sheâs gone. Ethics wonât stop Zev from tearing me apart from the inside out. Ethics is a luxury we canât afford, Nicholas."
Nicholas stood to face him directly. They were of similar height, but Nicholas carried himself with an authority that made him seem taller, more imposing. His silver eyes locked onto Lucianâs golden ones, and the air between them became charged with tension.
"If we keep her here against her will," Nicholas said, his voice dropping to something dangerous and quiet, "if we mark her and force her to accept a bond she doesnât understand, we become the thing weâve been afraid of becoming. We become our father."
The words landed like a physical blow.
Lucian stepped back as if heâd been struck.
Sebastian stopped pacing. The room fell completely silent.
"You donât get to say that," Lucian whispered. His voice had lost its sharp edge, replaced by something that sounded almost like despair. "You donât get to invoke that comparison. Weâre not him."
"No," Nicholas agreed quietly. "Weâre not. And weâre going to prove that by making the choice he would never have made. Weâre going to let her go."
"And then what?" Lucian asked. He sounded broken now, the desperation bleeding through every syllable. "What happens to us, Nicholas? What happens when she leaves and weâre still bonded to her? When our wolves are screaming for a mate we canât reach? What happens when weeks pass and the bond is still there, still pulling, still demanding?"
Nicholas returned to his desk and sat down. He looked older suddenly, like the weight of this decision was pressing down on him with physical force.
"Then we survive it," he said. "We do what weâve always done. We endure."
Sebastian moved to the window and looked out at the darkening estate. His voice, when he spoke, was barely above a whisper.
"Rhen doesnât want to endure," Sebastian said. "Rhen wants her. Every part of me that is wolf wants her. And every part of me that is human understands why we have to let her go. Iâm being torn apart from the inside, and I donât know which part is winning."
"The human part," Nicholas said firmly. "The human part has to win. Because if we let our wolves make this decision, we lose everything that makes us better than the animals they are."
Lucian returned to the window and pressed his forehead against the glass. His breathing was still ragged, still uncontrolled. When he spoke, his voice was muffled.
"I donât know if I can do this," he said. "I donât know if I can stand there tomorrow and watch her leave knowing that I could have kept her. Knowing that I could have marked her and she would be ours forever."
"You can do it," Nicholas said. "Because youâre going to remember what her face looked like when she woke up with no memory of what happened. Youâre going to remember her terror. Youâre going to remember the fact that sheâs been traumatized enough without us adding to it by trapping her in a bond she didnât consent to."
"She would consent eventually," Lucian said, and there was a desperate hope in his voice. "Mates always do. The bond would make her...."
"No." Nicholasâs voice cut through like a blade. "We are not going to have this conversation. We are not going to pretend that manipulating a mate bond is acceptable because she might eventually accept it. Thatâs not how this works. Thatâs not who we are."
Lucian turned from the window, and his face was a mask of anguish.
"Then who are we?" he demanded. "Because I donât recognize myself anymore. Iâm losing my mind, Nicholas. Zev is losing his mind. We feel her leaving and every instinct we have is screaming at us to stop it, and youâre asking me to just... let her go?"