Chapter 27
Weak
Saul
Therewerenostarsover the bayou as I moved through the shadows of Eli’s property. Beneath my feet the sandy soil was damp, cool against my skin. No crickets sang, no breeze whispered through the understory.
Eli’s home was a beacon in the night, the soft yellow of the outdoor light cutting through the dark and illuminating my brother where he stood on the porch.
Cady cut a small figure beside him, her chin tilted up like he hung the damn moon. He lifted an arm, curling it around her and drawing her closer to block the chill of the night.
I didn’t know what Isaac and Tara were doing inside, and I didn’t want to. He was in bad shape, but I understood the bond enough to know that wouldn’t stop him.
It would motivate him to keep living. That was all that mattered to me.
When I saw him in the back of Eli’s truck tonight—it was close. Too close.
And it was my fault.
None of this business with Jacques would have happened if not for me. If I had handled it better—differently.
I spilled Barbeaux blood, and now we were all paying the price.
It wasn’t right. Wasn’t the way my father taught me to be.
But that man only knew death. To bleed your enemies before they bled you. Or because you wanted to.
Because you were stronger.
That was why we never formed a pack. Why the Barbeaux line never accepted the lesser wolves—mutts, as my father called them.
They were weaker than us, and my father abhorred nothing more than weakness. Jacques’s father too, which was why he tormented my cousin until the day he died.
Jacques was an optimistic fool with a head full of fantasies. He thought there could be a better world for our kind. That maybe we didn’t have to live like this. Hidden. Shunned.
What my cousin forgot was that we were made in the shadows. Born of magic darker than the sky above me—not love.
Love was a dangerous sentiment. It twisted people, made them believe they were right in every unspeakable act they committed. Men justified all kinds of terror in the name of love.
That was how we came to be.
And that was why we would never change.
Love didn’t make us better. It made us unstable.
My brothers didn’t see it that way. They didn’t understand how fragile it all was. Didn’t feel the razor cutting into the soles of their feet as they walked the edge of it.
I saw it. I felt it.
Every damn day I was bleeding. My feet were raw. The space in my chest was empty. It had to be. For their sake and for—
For everyone.
I was the First of the First. King of death and ruin. I couldn’t afford to be weak. Couldn’t allow even an inch of my life to be fragile. Eli and Isaac created enough fragility for all of us.
Sweat beaded on my forehead despite the chill in the air. I stepped further into the bayou, leaving my brothers and their bonded at my back.
I felt like I was carrying armfuls of glass. Perfect and clear. Pure. It caught the light, tempting me to touch it. To carry more.