Chapter 21

Feya's POV

I was sitting beside Alpha Blake in the grand living room of the pack house, the flickering fire casting shadows over the stone walls. The low murmur of conversation filled the room as everyone continued to enjoy the festivities, but I couldn’t seem to focus. My fingers tapped nervously on the armrest, my mind elsewhere. Alpha Blake was talking, his words slipping by me like water, not really reaching me.

Then it came—the beep. A soft sound at first, almost inaudible over the low hum of chatter. I ignored it. But then, it came again. Another beep, then another. My phone.

I glanced down at it, the persistent vibrations vibrating through the surface of the coffee table. I almost dismissed it, but something told me I shouldn’t. My fingers shook as I reached for my phone, pulling it towards me with a deep, unexplainable sense of dread in my chest.

The screen lit up, and my heart sank when I saw the string of notifications. Debits. So many debits.

I blinked, staring at the numbers on the screen, the unfamiliar amounts scrolling faster than I could process. The total was rising, constantly rising. I could barely see it through the veil of anger that started clouding my thoughts. Each charge, each swipe of the card, felt like a knife. Feya, the girl who never splurged, who never wasted anything—how could someone do this to me?

My fingers trembled as I clicked through each notification, my breath coming faster and faster. Every amount, every charge, was eating away at me. They were from places I didn’t even remember—expensive bars, high-end clubs, flashy restaurants. I could almost hear the clinking of glasses and the laughter that came with the reckless spending.

A loud ringing in my ears drowned out all other sound as I stared at the numbers in disbelief, the cold sensation of betrayal starting to sink in. My stomach twisted in a knot, my chest tightening, suffocating me.

“Feya?” Alpha Blake’s voice was soft, concerned, but it did nothing to soothe me. I didn’t even hear him at first.

With a scream, I threw the phone on the couch beside me, the sound of it slamming against the cushion snapping me out of my trance. Tears welled up in my eyes before I could even stop them, and I blinked hard, trying to push them back.

"Who did this? Who took my card?!" I shouted, my voice cracking with panic. The room seemed to close in on me. The sound of my own frantic breathing filled my ears. I couldn’t think straight.

I was on my feet, looking around wildly. Everyone in the room paused, staring at me like I’d lost my mind. The laughter from the dining table faded into the background as I ran out of the room, the sobs catching in my throat. My heart pounded. My card. My money. My trust—gone. It felt like a piece of me had been ripped out.

I rushed to the hallway, the beeping of my phone still ringing in my ears like a taunting reminder of the violation. "Who the hell stole my card?!" I screamed, frantic now, my voice cracking with hysteria.

Alpha Blake was behind me in an instant, his hand on my arm, his voice a grounding presence. “Feya, calm down. It’s okay. We’ll figure this out.”

But his words were empty to me. Nothing he said could fill the void of betrayal that had opened up inside me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. All I could do was scream.

“No! No, this is not okay! Someone took it! Someone’s been using it!”

I yanked my arm away from him, feeling my nails bite into my palm as I tried to hold myself together. I couldn’t stop myself. The anger, the hurt—it was bubbling over, threatening to swallow me whole.

And then, from behind me, I heard the sound of the door opening. I whipped around, still half-crazed from the sudden wave of emotions.

Zane.

Zane was standing there, her hand on Killian’s arm, pulling him inside. Killian—my brother—was staggering, barely keeping his feet beneath him. I froze for a moment, the sight of him taking me by surprise. His usual poise was gone. His face was flushed, his eyes glassy, unfocused.

For the first time in my life, I saw him drunk.

I hadn’t realized until then how much I had come to rely on his steady presence, his calm demeanor. To see him like this… to see him falling apart… it gutted me.

I blinked hard, trying to shake the panic that still swelled inside me. “What the hell is he doing here?” I spat, the words bitter in my mouth.

Zane didn’t even flinch. She stood there, looking at me like she couldn’t care less, her eyes narrowed in mild amusement. “He’s drunk, Feya,” she said, her voice flat. “He asked me to bring him back.”

“Are you kidding me?” I didn’t even try to hide the disgust in my voice. “You just let him get this drunk and bring him here? What the hell were you thinking?”

Zane didn’t answer right away. She just looked at me, her arms folded across her chest, and the look on her face was one of detached amusement. “He’s a grown man, Feya. Not my responsibility.”

I turned my gaze back to Killian, who was stumbling further into the hall, clearly struggling to stay on his feet. “Killian! What the hell is wrong with you?” I shouted, my voice raw.

His eyes flickered towards me, unfocused, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure he even knew where he was. But then, he caught my gaze and gave me a weak smile. “Feya…” His voice was slow, slurring, and it hit me like a punch to the gut. “I just needed a night… to forget…”

I felt my heart twist at the sound of his voice.

Forget. Forget what? The mess he had just caused?

My vision blurred with fresh tears as I made my way toward him, my anger slipping away, replaced by something else. A hurt I couldn’t explain. A deep ache for him. For me. For us.

“Don’t you dare talk to me like that!” I snapped, suddenly furious again, but it wasn’t just at him. It was at everything—the betrayal of my trust, the mess we’d found ourselves in, and the weight of it all crushing me. 

I pushed Zane aside, my hands trembling as I reached for Killian, trying to steady him, but his weight was too much. He swayed, barely able to stay upright.

Zane scoffed, standing back with a look of indifference. “You should take care of your brother, Feya. Not everyone’s going to be there to clean up your messes.”

I turned on her then, fury flaring in my chest. “Shut up, Zane. Just. Shut. Up.”

I didn’t care about her. I didn’t care about her smirk or her judgmental eyes. My brother was the one who needed me, not her. He was still trying to steady himself, his hands gripping my arms like he couldn’t remember where he was. His eyes finally met mine, and there was a vulnerability in them that I couldn’t remember ever seeing before.

“Feya… please…” His voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "I messed up.”

Tears spilled down my cheeks, and I quickly wiped them away, trying to keep my composure, but it was impossible. He was my brother—my twin—and I couldn’t bear seeing him like this. I couldn’t bear the guilt I could see in his eyes.

“Don’t… don’t you dare apologize to me, Killian.” My voice cracked. “You don’t get to mess everything up and then apologize.”

But as the words left my mouth, I saw the pain in his eyes—pain I knew all too well. The same kind of pain I felt when I thought about everything I had lost. The betrayal of my trust.

“Help him,” I choked out, turning to the guards who were standing in the hallway, watching this all unfold. “Get him inside. Help him.”

I couldn’t do this alone. Not tonight.

The guards moved in without question, and one of them took Killian’s other arm, helping him to his feet. Zane stood there, still watching me with that damn smirk on her face, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I just needed to get my brother inside. I needed him to be okay.

As they helped him move, I stood there for a moment, unable to shake the burning feeling of betrayal still rising in my chest. It was as if everything—the trust, the love, the family I thought I had—was slipping through my fingers.

I turned back toward Zane, my eyes filled with anger and pain. “This is your fault too,” I said through gritted teeth. “You have no right to just let him fall apart like this.”

Zane shrugged. “You’re the one who’s supposed to be in charge of him, not me.”

—--------------

The next morning, I woke up with a heavy heart, my eyes still puffy from the tears I had shed throughout the night. The cold light of early morning poured through the curtains, casting long shadows across the room. My phone was still sitting on the bed beside me, its screen cracked from when I had thrown it the night before. But I couldn’t bring myself to even look at it.

I lay there for a few moments, the events from the previous night replaying over and over in my head. The charges. The betrayal. The sting of having my trust shattered by the one person I thought would never hurt me.

As the morning haze lingered, I found myself curling up into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. I let out a shaky breath, the tears threatening to start again. The overwhelming pain still hadn't gone away.

I had barely slept. How could I, with everything weighing on my heart? The confusion, the anger, the betrayal—everything was still fresh. It all felt like a wound that had been ripped open, and no matter how hard I tried to shut it, the blood kept spilling out.

Suddenly, I heard a faint noise coming from across the room. I didn’t have the energy to look up at first. I just stayed there, staring at the ceiling, my thoughts consumed by the wreckage of last night.

Then the sound of shuffling feet. Someone was moving around my room.

I snapped out of my trance and looked over, my vision still blurry from tears. It was Killian. He was standing in the doorway, looking disoriented, his hand on his forehead as if he was fighting off a headache. His disheveled hair fell over his eyes, his clothes wrinkled from the night before.

"Feya," he whispered, his voice thick with concern. "Are you okay?"

I stared at him, a mix of anger and disbelief coursing through me. The sight of him—looking so vulnerable, so helpless—only added to the chaos I was feeling inside. 

“I’m fine,” I muttered, my voice thick with emotion. “Just leave me alone, Killian.”

He took a step forward, his eyes filled with confusion and worry. “Feya, you’re clearly not fine. Please, just talk to me. What happened last night? What’s going on?”

I pulled the covers tighter around myself, trying to shield myself from him, from the world. I didn’t want to let him in. Not now. Not after everything that happened.

But then, Killian did something that completely took me by surprise.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, his voice quieter now, the weight of guilt in his words. “Feya… I need to tell you something.”

I turned my head away from him, unable to look at him any longer. “I don’t want to hear it, Killian,” I said, my voice cracking.

But then, his words hit me like a slap in the face. “I was the one who used your card.”

I froze. My heart stopped.

"What?" I whispered, my throat tight with shock.

“I did it. All of it. The charges… they were me,” Killian continued, his voice heavy with remorse.

“I’m so sorry, Feya. I didn’t know how to stop myself. I was reckless, and I thought if I could just drown everything out, it would be easier. But I messed up. I messed up badly.”

I sat up in bed now, my hands trembling as I tried to process what he had just said. “Why?” I could barely choke out the word. “Why would you do that?”