All Chapters of My Husband’s Brother Is My Mate?!: Chapter 31 - Chapter 40

"Breathe, Rhys. Look at me."He was on his knees in the dark stairwell outside the archive, both hands pressed over his face. The scorched scrap lay on the stone between us. His shoulders shook in long, ragged waves.I knelt in front of him and pulled his hands down. His eyes were red and wild."That was his hand," he said hoarsely. "I would know it anywhere. He signed every letter that way. Every birthday card. Every lesson." His voice broke. "He signed her death.""We do not know that yet.""I know what I saw.""You saw half a name. Four letters.""A. Black. Selene, there is only one man in this world who signs like that."I did not argue. I only wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held on.He went rigid. Then, slowly, he sagged against me. His forehead dropped to my collarbone. A harsh breath shuddered out of him, and then another, and then he was crying. Not loudly. Not like a child. Like a man who had carried one stone for twelve years and had just been told it was only the

The great hall had never looked so cold.Blackthorne wolves lined the walls in tight, grim rows. The council sat at a long table on a raised dais, twelve faces in a row like jurors in a painting. At the center, Cain presided in black, his hands folded on a thick book.In front of the dais, between two guards, stood Mara.She wore a plain gray dress. Her hair was neatly braided. Her wrists were bound in front of her. She had chosen to stand tall, chin lifted, and from the back of the room, I saw her hands trembling.I sat in the front row beside my father's empty chair. Rhys stood by the east wall, arms folded. We had not spoken since the road."The council convenes," Cain said. "The case before us is the death of a prisoner held in our cells, found with a scrap of cloth in his hand. The accused is Mara Quill, of the Ashford pack."A low murmur ran through the crowd."Mara Quill," Cain said. "How do you answer?""Not guilty," she said clearly. "And very hungry. Is there a lunch break?"

"Lysa!"She fell forward into my arms. Her weight dragged me to my knees. Warm blood soaked through my sleeves, and her eyes stared up at me, huge and shocked.Another arrow hissed through the broken window. It smashed into the beam above my head."Down!"A black blur hit me from the side. Rhys. He threw himself over both of us, snatched Lysa's collar, and dragged us across the floor behind a rusted grinding wheel. Arrows thudded into the wood where we had been."You followed me," I gasped."Yes.""I told you not to...""You did not tell me anything." He was already scanning the windows. "How many?""I do not know! She said there was something in the loft...""Then we go up."He slid one arm under Lysa's shoulders. I took her legs. We half-carried, half-dragged her toward the ladder. She moaned through clenched teeth. Blood dripped on the planks, leaving a bright trail.I climbed first. Rhys pushed Lysa up behind me, then scrambled after her, pulling the ladder up with him.The loft w

"It was not me."I said it again, over and over, as we crept out of the mill at the first gray hint of dawn. "The wolf in your dream was never me. It was her. It was my mother."Rhys walked beside me, pale and silent, leading both horses. We had wrapped Lysa's body in sacking and left her in the dry cellar under the old millstone. Bryn could collect her later."All these years," I whispered, "you thought it was me. You thought you were mourning a girl you had never met.""I was mourning someone," he said quietly. "But I never knew who.""Rhys, do you understand what this means? You were there. You were at Silverfall. You were twelve years old, and you held my mother while she died."He stopped walking."No.""The dream is a memory.""It cannot be." His voice shook. "I would remember. I would remember my own life.""Unless someone made you forget."He stared at me. His face went white as bone. The reins slipped from his fingers."Selene...""Think. Why would a twelve-year-old have a dr

"No."I said the word three times before the sound of it registered.Cain sat in his study with a pen in one hand and a half-written report in front of him. He looked at me over the paper, eyebrows lifting."No?" he repeated. "I have not said anything yet.""I need permission to leave the territory tonight. With a patrol. To the cliffs."He set down the pen. "The cliffs are four hours away. There are Redfang scouts on the northern ridge.""I know.""You will be walking into an ambush.""I know.""Then why?""Because my father is dying." My voice broke. "And the only thing that can save him blooms in the dark tonight, on a rock face I can barely see. I do not care how dangerous it is. I will go with or without your leave."Silence.Cain studied me. The storm-gray eyes moved slowly across my face. The tight jaw. The unspoken plea."You are going to ask for Rhys," he said.My heart stopped."He knows the northern ridge better than anyone," Cain continued. "He has patrolled it for two yea