Chapter 4: The Book he Feared

POV: Arthur

The moment I saw the symbol, my blood went cold.

I knew that mark.

I’d seen it once, years ago, in my father’s study. I was seventeen. He’d caught me going through a locked drawer, grabbed my wrist hard enough to bruise, and pulled me away from it like I’d touched something venomous.

(Some things must remain buried, Arthur.)

I’d laughed at him then. Didn’t understand. Thought it was just another one of his lectures.

But I understand now.

I looked down at the book in my hands. Same leather. Same symbol. My father’s private records, records that should have burned with everything else after he died.

I looked at Evana. She was watching me, careful, like she was cataloguing every twitch in my face.

“Where did you get this?”

“A servant gave it to me.”

“Which one?”

“I don’t know her name.”

“You’re lying.”

Her jaw set. “I’m not.”

I stepped closer. “Did you read it?”

“Some of it.”

“What did you see?”

“Why does it matter?”

Because I needed to know how much she’d already put together. Because my father had warned me, once, never to let anyone uncover certain records about my mate’s bloodline, and I’d assumed, at seventeen, grieving and stupid, that he meant some other woman. Some future I hadn’t built yet.

I never once thought he meant her.

I couldn’t say any of that. I closed the book.

“Old records. Nothing that concerns you.”

“Then why are you afraid?”

“I’m not afraid.”

“You look afraid.”

She’s right, my wolf said, low and certain, and I hated that it agreed with her before I’d finished disagreeing.

“Stay away from this book.”

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

She didn’t move. “You don’t get to decide what I’m allowed to know about myself.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know.” Her voice dropped, softer now, less armored. “But something is happening to me, Arthur. I don’t know what. That’s the problem.”

My chest tightened in a way I didn’t want to name.

I thought about the last few days. Her scent lingering in rooms after she’d left them. The way my wolf paced whenever she was upset, sharper than it had ever paced for anyone, more urgent than a mate bond should demand. I hated how much I noticed her now. The exact shade her eyes went when she was angry. The way silence around her had started to feel different than silence anywhere else in this house.

She turned for the door.

“Evana.”

She stopped.

“Don’t investigate this.”

She looked back at me. “Why?”

I had no answer that wouldn’t tell her more than I could afford to.

So She left.

My mother came in less than a minute later, like she’d been waiting outside for exactly that door to close.

“She saw the book,” she said.

“How much does she know?”

“I don’t know.”

“You need to find out,” she said.

“Why?”

“You know why.”

“No, I don’t.” I set the book down hard enough that it slapped against the desk. “I know Father kept secrets. I know he warned me about bloodlines I never understood. That’s all I know.”

Her silence told me more than her words ever would.

“What did he know, Mother?”

She looked away. “Your father was protecting this family.”

“From what?”

Nothing.

“Mother.”

“Whatever is happening with Evana,” she said, “cannot become public.”

My stomach dropped. “Why not?”

“Because if the pack ever learns what she might be…”

“What?”

She looked at me straight on, for the first time since she’d walked in.

“They will never see her as your weak little mate again.”

I frowned. “What does that even mean?”

“It means you keep her controlled, Arthur. Quietly. Before this becomes something none of us can put back.”

“She’s my mate.”

“Exactly,” she said, and something in her voice went colder than I’d ever heard from her. “That’s what makes this dangerous.”

She turned for the door.

“Mother.”

She paused.

“What aren’t you telling me?”

Her back stayed to me. “Everything you know about your father’s records should stay forgotten.”

Then she was gone.

I stood there a long time, staring at the book, wondering how long my father had known something about Evana before either of us had ever met her.

And why he’d never once told me.

Later, I stood outside her door and listened to her breathe on the other side of it.

Mate, my wolf said.

“No,” I said back, quiet, to no one.

Something is changing.

“I know.”

Protect her.

I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to protect her. I wanted answers.

But some part of me already understood those two things weren’t going to stay separate much longer.

My mother’s voice stayed with me long after she’d left the room.

If she knows what she is, our entire family is finished.