Raven POV

Ah. Dammit.

I messed up.

I messed up badly.

Why the hell had I been so impulsive?

I had hidden it so well this past week, so why did I lose control at the very last moment?

I tightened my grip around the glass in my hand, the bottle of whiskey sitting beside me as I leaned back against the couch in my apartment.

I should’ve already been on my way back to the estate by now.

But the look on her face after I kissed her kept haunting me.

So I drank.

And drank again.

But it wasn’t helping.

That stunned expression kept replaying in my head over and over again. She hadn’t even said anything afterward, which somehow made it worse. It made me desperately wish I could go back in time and stop myself before I ruined everything.

But...

My hand slowly moved to my lips, and my breath caught as I imagined kissing her again.

Fuck.

I was pathetic.

Sitting here alone fantasizing about my brother’s mate like I had been doing for years.

I was five years older than her, the one who was supposed to be more mature and responsible, yet I still couldn’t stop myself.

At first, I convinced myself it was just pity.

I pitied her because everyone treated her like garbage.

Because she always looked so lonely and every time she smiled, it looked fragile, like it could disappear at any second.

But then every night when I closed my eyes, she was all I could think about.

Her voice.

Her laugh.

The way she tried so hard not to cry in front of people.

I really never expected myself to fall for a woman.

Was that why I turned down every man who asked me out over the years?

Because I was gay and somehow hopelessly in love with a woman who used to belong to my brother?

Would she even look my way after this?

To think she acted like she had already moved on, but every night I still heard her crying herself to sleep through the walls.

That bastard had completely broken her.

My chest tightened painfully at the thought.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed beside me, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I glanced at the screen and immediately snarled when I saw Jaxen’s name.

Part of me wanted to answer just so I could scream at him and tell him what a fucking idiot he had been.

But the other part, the guilty part, knew I had no right to judge him anymore.

I had just kissed his mate.

Ex-mate.

Whatever she was now.

So instead, I let the call ring out before pouring myself another drink.

*****

About an hour later, I was splashing cold water on my face before driving myself back to the pack estate.

The whiskey had dulled the edges of my guilt.

Not completely, but enough to help.

It was a few minutes past ten when I pulled in, keeping my expression calm as I headed toward the war room where I had been told Jaxen was last seen.

And sure enough, there he was.

My pathetic excuse of a brother sat hunched over in one of the chairs, gripping his hair so tightly it looked like he wanted to rip it out by the roots.

"Why the long face?" I asked as I strolled in, forcing lightness into my voice.

Jaxen looked up at me, and I nearly flinched at the sight of him.

His eyes were red-rimmed. His face looked pale, exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days.

"She’s gone," he said hoarsely. "Lorelei. She escaped."

"I heard." I settled into the chair across from him, keeping my expression neutral. "The guards filled me in on my way here."

"We’ve searched everywhere. The territory. The borders. Even neighboring packs." His voice cracked slightly. "Nothing. It’s like she vanished into thin air."

Maybe because someone helped her, I thought smugly, barely resisting the urge to smile.

"So?" I said simply as I leaned back in my chair and his brows furrowed as he stared at me.

"So? I just told you she escaped."

"She was weak and practically half-dead after the rejection."

That immediately made him flinch, clearly not expecting me to know that much.

"She probably fell into some pit and got devoured by wild wolves," I continued coldly. "But either way, she’s most likely dead already, which is exactly what would’ve happened eventually anyway. So what difference does this make?"

"Hey!" he roared, shooting to his feet before stomping toward me.

But the closer he got, the deeper his frown became, like something was finally clicking in his head.

"Do you have something to do with this?"

Bingo.

Guess he wasn’t completely stupid after all.

"Why?" I asked carefully, fighting the corner of my lips from curling upward. "Are you regretting it already?"

That made him scoff loudly as he took a step back.

"She almost killed my child!" he shouted. "And she’s out there somewhere, dead or alive. I wanted to watch her die. I wanted to see her to suffer until her last breath."

Hearing that, my fists clenched tightly at my sides.

I wanted to lash out at him right then and there, but I had already sensed a presence I knew all too well standing outside the door.

And judging from the way Jaxen suddenly straightened, I was sure he sensed it too.

That was probably why he was putting on this honorable act.

"How certain are you that it’s even your child?" I asked calmly.

Immediately, the door pushed open and the little princess walked in carrying a tray with a cup of chamomile tea.

"Sister-in-law, you’ve gone too far," Callista said, tears instantly filling her eyes so quickly it almost made me roll mine.

She carefully set the tray down on the table before turning toward me, her lower lip trembling dramatically.

"I understand that you don’t like me. I’ve accepted that," she said shakily. "But to stand here and suggest that my baby, Jaxen’s baby, isn’t his? That’s cruel. Even for you."