CHAPTER 5: TRUTHS THAT BURN

Ty’s POV

I woke up with a fire humming in my veins.

Refreshed. Rested. Alive in a way I hadn’t felt in years. For once, the ghosts didn’t follow me into the morning.

I rolled out of bed, freshened up quickly, and padded downstairs. The scent hit me like a warm memory—bacon, eggs, buttery toast, and something sweet baking in the oven.

Home.

“Good morning, Ty!” Dy called out from the kitchen, flipping pancakes like a culinary god.

“Morning,” I replied, inhaling deeply. “Smells criminally good in here.”

“Slept well?” Dad asked while he and Tyra set the table with synchronized ease.

“I think I missed my bed more than I missed the brownies,” I joked as I slid into my chair.

Dad gave me an amused look.

Then Dy dropped the bomb.

“Son, Tyson and Tyra are coming with me to Green Moss Pack for the week. Alpha Talon’s headed out on business, so I’ll be taking charge while he’s away.”

“Just don’t burn the house down while we’re gone,” he added with a pointed grin.

Ah. So that’s where this is going.

He wasn’t referencing my fire-breathing dragon abilities.

No, this was about that night—our chaotic childhood experiment in baking with the Stone sextuplets. Midnight cookie cravings, a sabotaged oven, and one catastrophic swap of powdered sugar for baking soda later, the entire kitchen had looked like a volcanic crime scene.

“Don’t worry, Dy,” I smirked. “No flames this time.”

Dy raised a brow.

“But I’m seriously considering flooding it instead.”

And that’s when I got ambushed.

“Ow—Dy!!” I yelped as he pinched my ear with savage precision.

“Brat,” he muttered.

“Serves you right,” Tyra snickered, her halo firmly replaced with devil horns.

I rubbed my ear, grumbling about the cruelty of parental abuse while stuffing a sandwich into my mouth.

“When do you guys leave?” I mumbled mid-bite.

“Right after breakfast,” Dad replied.

I sighed and headed into the kitchen to rinse the dishes. The comfort of morning quiet was starting to lull me again when Dad’s voice pulled me back.

“Ty,” he said. Calm. Low. Serious. “Come with me. I want a moment before we go.”

Something in his tone made me pause. I dried my hands and followed him into his study.

He shut the door behind us and turned to face me, his expression unreadable.

“Son... I think you deserve to hear the truth. All of it. Before you see him again.”

My stomach tightened.

Him.

My hands curled into fists. “What are you talking about, Dad?”

He motioned to the chair opposite him. “Let’s just say... I know why you left for the Academy.”

My breath hitched.

“You knew?” I asked, voice low. Sharp.

“I didn’t. Not until after Kai went into the military. After he... killed Brianna. And after Alpha Victor dealt with the witch responsible.”

I blinked.

Wait—what?

“THEY DID WHAT?” I gasped.

Dad nodded grimly. “After you left, Alpha Victor found out that Kai had been drugged that morning. It was all orchestrated—by Brianna and a rogue-affiliated witch. The witch was already on the Council’s wanted list.”

I could barely process it. “So... Alpha Victor... killed her?”

“Burned her alive,” Dad said flatly. “And Kai? He snapped. Gave in to his wolf. Ripped Brianna’s head off before incinerating what was left.”

I swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

“What happened after that?”

“The Council stepped in,” Dad said, leaning back. “They punished him.”

“What punishment?”

Dad looked me in the eye.

“They forbade him from contacting you. At all. Not even a letter. He was destroyed, Ty. That’s why he enlisted. He pushed himself through the harshest military program we’ve seen in decades. And when he refused to come home, they had to force him back.”

I stared down at my hands.

Silent.

The truth had come down like a tsunami—unexpected and suffocating.

I took a breath and steadied my voice. “I get it, Dad. But... it doesn’t change the past. Even if he was drugged, even if it wasn’t his fault... it still happened. I still saw him kiss her. I still lived through that betrayal.”

Dad said nothing. Just listened.

I continued. “We’ll both find our own mates. Maybe we already have. There’s no point opening that wound again. He hurt me—even if unwillingly. And I can’t... I won’t... go through that all over again.”

Dad nodded slowly.

“I won’t push you,” he said quietly. “I just wanted you to have the truth. What you do with it... that’s your choice now.”

I stood and walked with him to the door. My thoughts were a storm behind my eyes.

“Thank you, Dad,” I said.

He squeezed my shoulder. “Anytime, son.”