Her rogue heir

Brothers

*Dimos*

It's late, and the establishment has closed. I see a light in an upper window, part of Castor's private rooms. My chest swells with triumphant satisfaction. It's only been two nights since I last saw her, Henry. Yet already, she is beckoning me.

Every night since I left her, I have stood in the mews outside my brother's place of business. Not really hoping, just checking to see if curiosity would bring her back or if she would remember something and want to meet me again.

I regret not spending more time with her, not asking more questions about her past and present. I thought about watching her house, but if she truly knows nothing, my time is better spent elsewhere.

But no matter where I go, no matter how deep and dark the alleys, no matter how dangerous my surroundings or wicked the people I encounter, the Ice Princess haunts me. That is what I have come to call her. Cold and calculating. I suspect she gathered as much information from me as I did from her.

I shouldn't be intrigued by her, but I am. It disappoints me.

Looking around the mews, making sure I'm alone, I approach the building. I remove a loose brick, slip my fingers inside the vacant slot, but find nothing. I furrow my brow in confusion.

"Care to explain why you are spending time in the company of Father's tart?"

I don't startle at my brother's voice, nor do I react to his words. I simply return the means by which Castor passes me messages. If I have anything for him, I pick the lock, go inside, and leave it on his desk. "We are not supposed to meet."

"We are not supposed to sleep with Father's w***e either." He huffs.

I spin around. "I'm not. I wouldn't. The thought of touching her turns my stomach." Although the thought of not touching her creates a vivid sense of loss that I would rather not examine, it lingers at the edge of temptation.

"Then why did she bring me a message for you?" He asks.

The desperation to have that message in my hands, to see her words, surprises me. Not because they might help me, but because she wrote them. Fighting the urge to demand the letter, I lean against the wall and fold my arms over my chest. "I visited her, yes. I thought maybe Father accidentally revealed something to her. But she couldn't think of anything, although perhaps something came to mind after I left."

"She is more beautiful than I remembered." Castor says.

Each of the Alpha’s children has caught a glimpse of his mistress at some point. "I hadn't noticed."

"Liar." He huffs, rolling his eyes.

My brother is right. Even a man buried six feet under would notice. "You mentioned she brought me a message. Where the devil is it?"

Castor holds out an envelope, pristine white, standing out in the night as it catches the light from nearby windows and distant street lamps. I resist the urge to snatch it from my brother's fingers and tear it open to see what she has written. Instead, I casually take it and tuck it into a pocket inside my jacket. "So how are you?"

Castor studies me for a moment. "Surprisingly happy. I no longer miss the old life."

"Good. What I'm doing won't bring it back to you." I admit.

"Then why not give up the quest?" He asks.

I struggle to put it into words. "Do you remember what it was like to be dragged from our beds in the middle of the night? Without any warning or explanation? Those two weeks rotting in the Tower? Treated like traitors, interrogated every day? The fear, the confusion? The shame of it all? And then, after we were released, the agony of watching Mother wither away in mortification at her mate's betrayal of his queen until she lost the will to live and died shortly after he was hanged? We were helpless, drowning in an immense tide, barely able to breathe. I want to know why. What did he think he would gain that was worth risking everything our ancestors had accomplished? Who convinced him to take that path?"

"Perhaps his mistress." He suggests.

Suddenly, it feels like a battering ram hits me in the chest, and I feel a strong need to defend the woman I've despised for so long. "They arrested her too."

"That doesn't mean she wasn't involved." He shakes his head. "She seemed rather cold and distant to me. I can't understand why father was drawn to her."

"Just a few minutes ago, you were complimenting her appearance." I point out.

Castor shakes his head. "I have admired beautiful marble statues. It doesn't mean I want to sleep with one. I prefer warmth in my bed."

"Perhaps I will understand her appeal to him better once I have read her message." I suggest.

"I highly doubt that." He says.

The hairs on the back of my neck stand up, and I feel a moment of irrational anger. "You read it?"

"What little there was to read." He admits.

I have an urge to slam my brother against the wall for intruding on something I consider private and personal. What's wrong with me? Castor saved my life, he killed a man who tried to take away my life. He has the right to any information I uncover. "Stop with the suspense. What did she say?"

"Very little. The only thing she wrote was an 'H' I suppose that means something?"

A wide grin spreads across my face, the sensation unfamiliar, as if those muscles aren't used to such movement. "It means she didn't trust you."

I'm also fairly certain she wants to meet.