Brooke POV:
I walked.
By the time I reached the estate, my feet were blistered, and the wind had chilled me to the marrow.
My phone buzzed. Easton.
Meet us at the Holland residence. Bring the medical kit from my study. The one with the rare herbs.
I wasn't a wife. I was a glorified TaskRabbit.
I grabbed the kit and drove my beat-up sedan to the Holland estate.
I walked into the living room to find Kelly lounging on a velvet sofa, holding an ice pack to a cheek that wasn't even swollen. Easton was kneeling beside her.
"You're here," Easton said. "Give me the arnica salve."
I handed it over. He applied it gently. In wolf culture, grooming is intimate. It's a claim.
Kelly looked at me, smiled, and rubbed her neck against Easton's wrist. Scent-marking.
Easton didn't pull away.
"Easton," Kelly murmured. "The doctor said I need fresh air. Can we go to the lake house?"
"Of course," Easton said. He stood up. "Brooke, drive us."
I froze. "You want me to chauffeur you and your mistress to your vacation home?"
"She is not my mistress," Easton snapped. "She is a valued member of this pack you assaulted. Make amends."
"I won't."
Easton stepped closer. The air grew heavy. "Do not make me use the Command again. Drive."
The drive was hell. In the rearview mirror, they were a tableau of domestic bliss. Kelly's head on his shoulder, his fingers in her hair.
We arrived at the lake house. The Holland family was waiting on the porch like a welcoming committee.
I stepped out to get my bag.
"Where do you think you're going?" Kelly's mother sneered, blocking my path.
"Inside. It's my husband's house."
"Not tonight," Easton said, Kelly tucked under his arm. "The Hollands are upset. Your presence causes tension. Go back to the city."
"You're kicking me out?"
"I'm managing the peace," he corrected. Then, via Mind-Link :
Go home, Brooke. You're an embarrassment. Don't let your bad luck infect Kelly's recovery.
Bad luck. Is that what he called it? The mines, the poverty, the silent grief I carried?
I got back into the driver's seat. I didn't cry. I just reversed out of the driveway.
My phone pinged.
Mom: "Baby, the silver burn is spreading. Did the Alpha sign the check for the medicine yet?"
Tears finally blurred my vision. I had asked Easton a week ago. He promised. But tonight, he was popping champagne for Kelly while my mother rotted.
I pulled over.
I closed my eyes and found the mental connection to the Spencer Pack. A thick, humming rope.
I found the strand connecting me to Easton. Thin, frayed, cold.
I visualized a steel wall. I pushed against the connection until the hum faded.
For the first time in five years, my mind was quiet.
"No more," I whispered.
