CHAPTER 64: DIFFERENT FACES

Kayden’s POV

I and my brothers were entering the private elevator, leading to the floor where the gathering is held.

Keith stood like a sentinel, Kieran was already adjusting his expression into one of charming neutrality. I focused on my breathing, in and out.

Then the music started.

A soft, classical piece. I know this one. I know the way the cello dips on the third note, a sound like a sinking heart.

My own heart stuttered, then began to pound, a frantic drum against my ribs. The walls of the elevator, once a safe cocoon, began to close in. The polished brass smelled like the polish he used on his collection cases.

Keith was saying something. Kieran turned, his face sharp with concern. But their voices were fading, swallowed by the memory of other sounds.

The rustle of silk. The clink of tools being laid out on a velvet cloth. The hum of approval from a man who saw people as things.

No...Please don’t take my voice away

My hands came up, pressing against the cool metal doors. I needed out. I needed the air to not smell like this. I needed the silence to not sound like that.

The doors slid open. A blur of faces, all turned toward us. Smiling. But their faces were wrong. Every single one of them had his face. His chilling, possessive, empty smile. They were all him. He was here.

Keith moved in front of me, a solid wall of protection, his voice a sharp command telling them to get lost.

I couldn’t stand it. I broke. Shoving past my brothers, I ran. The hallway was a tunnel of more smiling faces, more of him. I need to hide. A place to hide where the faces couldn’t find me.

What more do you want from me? The plea was a scream inside the prison of my mind. You took my voice. You took everything. What is left to take?

I saw the restroom and barged in, my hands over my face.

A woman’s voice, shaky and surprised, cut through the static in my head.

"You’re in the wrong restroom."

I couldn’t pay her any attention.

This is my curse. While Keith’s curse is that he turns into a monster; mine is that i see that monster’s face everywhere.

He’s dead. You watched him die. He can’t hurt you anymore.

But the logic was a tiny, fragile boat in a storm of pure terror. The faces at the elevator... they were so real. He’s back. He’s come to take me back to silence me again.

I slid down the wall, my knees giving way, collapsing onto the cold tile. I curled in on myself, trying to make myself small, invisible.

The woman was saying something, her voice panicked. I didn’t care. No one should see this. No one should see the broken thing I become.

Get out. Please, just get out. The words were a desperate scream in my mind, but all that came out was a choked, guttural sound from the back of my throat. A pathetic attempt at a voice I no longer possessed.

Then, a soft touch on my shoulder.

I flinched, but didn’t look up. I couldn’t. The phantom voice of my master filled the void, louder than her panic, clearer than my own thoughts.

"So perfect, Kayden," he crooned in my memory. "So beautifully silent. I never have to hear your pleas. I can simply admire the art of your suffering. You take it all so well. You were made for this."

No. No, I wasn’t. I shook my head, pressing my hands harder against my ears, a futile attempt to block out a sound that wasn’t really there.

"Stop... please..." I begged inside my own head, the words a silent, frantic mantra. But the only sound I could make was a broken, rasping whisper.

Her hand moved from my shoulder to my head, her fingers gently brushing through my hair.

The touch was soft, but it was a trigger. It was his touch. The patronizing stroke he would give me after a session, telling me what a good, silent boy I was. How perfectly I performed.

A raw, soundless scream ripped through me. I shoved her away, scrambling back until my spine hit the cold tiles of the wall.

My head snapped up, my vision blurry with unshed tears. I braced myself. I would see his face leering back at me from hers.

But I didn’t.

I saw her. The one with the silver-white hair and the scent that calmed the storm inside me. Her eyes were wide, not with cruelty, but with deep, genuine worry.

She started to speak, her voice soft. "I’m... I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong, but you need help. I’ll go get your brothers."

Pity. I didn’t need her pity. But the thought of her leaving... the thought of this one face that wasn’t his disappearing... a fresh wave of panic, different from the first, seized me.

As she stood and turned to leave, I lunged forward without thinking. My hand shot out, my fingers closing around the delicate fabric of her dress, clinging to it like a lifeline.

Don’t go.

She stopped. She looked down at my hand, then back at my face. Slowly, she sank back to her knees in front of me. She didn’t speak. She just reached out again, and this time, her touch was different. It wasn’t a claim. It wasn’t a reward. It was an offering. She gently wiped the tears from my cheeks with her thumb, her touch erasing the thought of him.

A low, rumbling purr started deep in my chest. It was my wolf, a sound of pure, unadulterated contentment I have never felt before .

My wolf was craving her. What was wrong with me? This was the same overwhelming pull I’d felt at the Kingsley Hotel.

Her voice was soft, laced with a protectiveness that shook me to my core. "Who did this to you?"

I looked into her eyes, and the final piece clicked into place. This was why her face had been burned into my mind since the moment I first saw her.

Mate, my wolf growled, the word a definitive, grounding truth in the chaos of my mind.

I pulled her into my arms, burying my face in the curve of her neck. Her scent washed over me, a balm that soothed the raw, frayed edges of my soul. The phantom voice of my master, the memory of his touch, it all just... faded.

The static in my head quieted, replaced by the steady, reassuring sound of her breathing.

I held her tighter, breathing her in. I had never felt this kind of relief, this profound sense of safety, not since the curse began. It was so relaxing that i don’t want to let go.

I didn’t care that she was seeing me like this—broken, trembling, a mess on a bathroom floor. The shame that usually choked me was absent, washed away by the sheer relief of her presence.

But then, a colder, logical thought followed. Wait.

If my wolf has identified her as our mate..doesn’t that mean she is a mate to all three of us.

The Moon Goddess gave us Scarlet. Why would she give us another? The complications... it was a tangled web my mind couldn’t unravel and began to tighten my chest again, but then her hands moved.

She began to rub slow, soothing circles on my back. The tension melted under her touch. The sheer impossibility of it all... it didn’t matter right now.

For this single, stolen moment, none of it existed. There was only the feel of her skin beneath my hands and a peace I thought I’d lost forever.

I let my eyes close, surrendering to the calm, pushing every other thought away. I would deal with it later. For now, I just wanted to feel her.