Chapter 11: Three demons

~Elara~

I turned toward the door and saw another man step into the room. Same face. Same features. Same jaw, same cheekbones, same mouth. But he moved with lazy confidence, like he had all the time in the world and found everything around him vaguely amusing.

A third one.

My mind stuttered and stalled. The man who had destroyed my life had been remade not once or twice, but three times.

I'm totally fucked.

My knees threatened to buckle. Only Rhys's arm around my waist kept me from crumpling beside my unconscious daughter. I had walked into this house thinking I was accepting help from a kind person and now there was a third one, lounging in the doorway like he had all the time in the world.

"Hello, brothers." He stepped into the room with the kind of confidence that suggested nothing in the world could ruffle him. His eyes swept over the scene with mild curiosity, taking in Helena kneeling beside Lily, taking in Rhys holding me against his chest, taking in Kaelan standing rigid as stone in the corner. A slow smile spread across his face. "I leave for a few months and you throw a party without me?"

"Damien." Rhys's voice carried a warning. "Not now."

"Clearly not now. You have a child unconscious on Helena's bed and a human woman in your arms." Damien's gaze landed on me pointedly. There was curiosity dancing behind them. The kind of curiosity that made me want to take a step back. "A very pretty human woman."

My lids ticked. I didn't have the energy for this. I didn't have the patience for another impossibly handsome man looking at me like I was a puzzle to be solved.

"Damien." This time it was Kaelan who spoke. I refused to look at him. I had been refusing to look at him all evening, and I wasn't about to stop now.

Damien raised his hands in mock surrender, but that infuriating smile never wavered. "Relax. I'm merely observing." He leaned against the door, crossing his arms over his chest with the ease of someone who had never known a moment of real worry in his entire life. "I assume Helena has filled you in on the situation?"

"You were listening," Rhys said flatly.

"I was arriving." Damien's tone was unbothered. "I can hardly help it if you were all too distracted to notice my presence. The front door was wide open, by the way. Security has really declined since I left."

I wanted to scream at him. I wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him and demand to know why he was making jokes while my daughter’s life was at stake. But all I could do was stand there, propped up by Rhys's steady arm, and watch this stranger assess the wreckage of my life with casual interest.

His eyes flicked to Lily's still form, and his curiosity returned.

"A half-blood child going through an early shift," he said slowly. "Fascinating thing."

The word snapped something inside me.

I pulled away from Rhys's hold, my hands curling into fists at my sides. "My daughter is not a thing. She's sick. She's four years old and she's scared and she's sick, and I don't care who you are or how many of you there are. She is not a specimen to be studied."

Damien blinked. For a moment, the amusement faltered. He looked at me with something that might have been surprise.

"Fair enough," he said quietly. Then the smile returned, softer this time. "She's both, actually. But that's beside the point."

He pushed off from the door and walked further into the room, moving with that same unhurried grace his brothers possessed. It was unnerving, watching three identical men occupy the same space. Like the universe was playing some cruel joke that I didn't understand.

"The point," Damien continued, "is that Helena has already violated protocol by treating the half-blood."

I looked at Helena, who had gone very quiet. Her hands were still resting on Lily's small chest, but her expression had changed to fear.

"What are you talking about?" I asked hoarsely.

Damien's eyebrows rose. He looked between his brothers with mock surprise. "She doesn't know?"

"There hasn't exactly been time for explanations," Rhys said through gritted teeth. His hand found my elbow, steadying me again.

"Then allow me." Damien spread his hands, that lazy smile returning in full force. "Any human brought into Thornwood territory must be presented to the Wolf King before receiving aid from the pack. It requires his approval first. It's the law."

That was that word that I couldn't seem to understand again. What is these people's obsession with wolves?

"Wolf King?" I repeated.

"Our father," Rhys said. His thumb traced small circles on my elbow, a soothing gesture that did nothing to calm the panic rising in my chest. "Elara, I should have explained earlier. I should have told you before we arrived. But Lily needed help, and I thought—"

"Your father is a king?" I asked, cutting his explanations off.

I looked between the three identical faces, my mind struggling to catch up with what I was hearing. "That makes you..."

"Princes," Damien finished cheerfully, throwing his head back with a stupid smile on that stupid face of his. "Surpriiise."

I gasped, my mind spinning as the three cardinal points met in my head. What in the name of cult have I gotten myself into?

I thought I might be sick.

The room spun. I reached out blindly, and Rhys was there, his arm wrapping around my waist.

"Breathe," Rhys murmured against my hair. "Just breathe. We'll figure this out."

"The King will need to meet her," Damien continued, seemingly oblivious to my spiraling panic. Or perhaps not oblivious at all. "Meet both of them. The mother and the child. It's not a request. It's the law of this land, and even we cannot circumvent it."

"Father isn't here," Kaelan said. I still refused to look at him, but I could feel his gaze on me like a brand. "He's away on diplomatic business."

"I know." Damien shrugged, as if the timing was merely an inconvenience rather than a lifeline. "He returns in two days. Until then, I suppose our guests will have to wait."

Two days.

I had two days before I had to face a supposed wolf king and explain why I had brought my daughter into his territory. Two days before he asked questions I couldn't answer. Questions about Lily's father. Questions about her bloodline. Questions that would lead him straight to the truth I had been burying for five years.

Two days trapped in this house with three princes. One who looked at me with kindness. One who looked at me with curiosity. And one who looked at me with longing and regret.

I forced myself to step away from Rhys's warmth, stand on my own feet, lift my chin and meet Damien's amused gaze head-on.

"Fine," I heard myself say. "Two days. But my daughter's treatment continues. I don't care about your protocols or your king. She comes first."

Something flickered in Damien's eyes. The amusement rearranged itself into approval.

"I like her," he said.

"Damien," both brothers said simultaneously.

He laughed, unbothered. "What? I do. She has fire." He tilted his head, studying me with renewed interest. "Most humans who stumble into Thornwood are terrified. They cower. They beg. They certainly don't make demands of princes."

"I'm not most humans," I said flatly. "And I don't care if you're princes or paupers or wolves or dogs. My daughter is the only thing that matters to me."

"Clearly." Damien's smile softened, just slightly. "Don't worry, little human. Helena is the best healer in the territory. Your daughter is in good hands."