292 Enlisting Dennis’s Help

    biDraven/i/bb. /b

    Meredith’s gaze flicked to me for a moment. And without hesitation, she reached down, lifting the folded paper from herp, and ced it in my hand.

    The weight of it was light, but I could feel the venomced inside already. I folded it once more and set it

    aside with quiet finality.

    She exhaled, a long, weary sound, then leaned back against the sofa. “Draven,” she said softly, her voice stripped of its earlier edge. “I feel mentally exhausted. Can I sit out my training this evening?”

    I studied her for a heartbeat, the faint pull in her shoulders, the honesty in her tone. Our conversation had

    wrung her dry, and she was trying to admit it without looking weak.

    Without a second thought, I nodded. “Of course, you can rest this evening.” My voice dropped to a gentler

    note. “You need it.”

    A few minutester, I walked Meredith to the door. Her steps were slower now.

    I paused just before the doorframe and leaned down, pressing my lips gently against her forehead.

    “Rest well,” I murmured, my voice steady but soft enough to add hints offort.

    She gave me the faintest nod before I opened the door. I stood there, watching her retreating figure as she

    disappeared down the corridor.

    Only when she was gone from sight did I let the door close behind her with a quiet click.

    I turned, heading back toward the sitting area. The calm that had briefly settled in me shifted the instant my

    eyesnded on the folded paper lying on the table, exactly where I had set it.

    My jaw tightened.

    I picked it up slowly, unfolding the letter. My gaze ran over Wanda’s sharp, venomous strokes, each line digging deeper than the one before.

    By the time I reached the end, my hands curled tight around the edges of the paper.

    Fury seared through me like wildfire.

    I hadn’t expected Wanda to be this cruel, toce her spite into something so personal–something she had no

    right to touch.

    This wasn’t honesty. This was pure poison, crafted to corrode everything Meredith and I had built.

    Of course, Wanda hadn’t written this out of concern. She had written it out of anger–anger at me. She had wanted to leave behind onest scar before departing, to ruin Meredith’s trust in me and watch it all unravel.

    I exhaled slowly, forcing my temper back into its cage. Still, my chest tightened with the weight of it. Now I understood more clearly how Meredith had felt when she first read this filth.

    Folding the letter again, I set it down with deliberate care, though my mind was still aze. I thought of

    Meredith’s eyes earlier, the doubt, the hurt.

    If left alone, she would think about this letter, dissect every venomous word and let it burrow deeper.

    An idle mind was dangerous. Negativity fed on it. Especially hers which was still raw from learning truths that

    should never have been delivered this way.

    ‘No. I iwouldn’t /iilet /iiher /iisit /iiin /iithat/ii./ii‘ /i

    I straightened, reaching for the bond of the mind–link, sharp and fast as a de.

    “iDennis/i,” I called, my voice clipped but steady. “I ithink /iiyour /iifriend /iineeds /iia /iidrive/i.”

    Two secondster, his voice slid into my mind,ced with suspicion. “iYou /iijust /iiarrived /iiback/i. iDid /iiyou /itwo ihave /i

    ia /iifight/i, ialready/i?”

    I wasn’t surprised by my brother’s guess. The first time he had taken Meredith for a drive was when she and I

    had fought. He knew the pattern.

    “Not ithat/ii,/i” I quickly dispelled his idea. “iShe /iifound /iiout /iiabout /iimy initial /iins /ito iuse /iiher /iias /iia /iipawn/i,” I admitted,

    my tone even but edged with regret.

    Silence hung on the link for a beat, heavy and sharp. Then Dennis’s voice came, low and shocked. “How iin /iithe /i

    iheck /iidid /iiMeredith /iifind /iiout /iiabout /iithat/ii?/i”

    Almost immediately, he pressed again, sharper this time. “iDraven/ii, /iidid /iiyou /iitell /iiher/i?”

    00:20

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    I exhaled through my nose, steadying my thoughts. “No. iWanda /iitold /iiher/ii. /iiShe /iwrote ia /iiletter/ii. /iiLaid /iieverything /i

    ibare/i… By ithe /iitime /iMeredith ibrought /iit to ime/ii, /iishe /iialready /iihad /iiquestions/i.”

    I shifted my gaze to the folded paper in my hand and felt like crumbling it into a ball and dumping it into a

    bin, as fury simmered just beneath the surface.

    “So iyes/ii, /iiI /iconfirmed the truth iand /iiexined /iieverything/i. I iowed /iiher /iithat /iimuch/i.”

    For a moment, Dennis didn’t speak. Then the bond pulsed with his sudden snarl. “iThat /iivile /iibitch/ii!/i” His fury

    cracked like a whip across the link. “iShe /iidared/ii? /iiShe /iiactually /iidared /iito /iido /iithat /iibefore /iileaving/i?”

    I felt the force of his anger echoing mine. His next words spat venom. “I ireally /iiwish /iithe /iiMoon /iigoddess /iiwould /i

    icurse /iiher /itongue to rot for itrying /ito turn iyour /iiwife /iiagainst /iiyou/ii, /iiand /iiruin /iiyour /iirtionship/i.”

    I let Dennis’s curses burn through the link, the venom of his words matching the rage I’d already felt reading

    Wanda’s filth. But this was no longer important. My wife was.

    “iLeave /iiWanda /ito rot iin /iiher /iiown /iibitterness/i,” I cut in, my tone like steel. “iShe /iiis /iino /iilonger /imy iconcern/i. My iwife /i

    is.”

    The silence on his end shifted, the heat of his temper cooling under the weight of mymand.

    “So ithis /iidrive/i,” Dennis said finally, more measured now. “iYou /iiwant /iime /ito itake /iiher /iiout/ii? /iiKeep /iiher /iidistracted/ii?/ii” /i

    “Yes,” I confirmed. iShe’s /iiexhausted/ii, /iiDennis/ii. /iiHer /iimind /iihas /iibeen /iithrough /iienough /iithis /iimorning/i. iAnd /iiif /iishe is /iileft /i

    iidle/ii, /iishe /iiwill /iikeep /iicircling /iiback /ito ithat /iidamned /iiletter/ii. /iI iwon’t /iilet /iiher /iidwell /iiin /iiit/i.”

    Dennis gave a sharp exhale. “iUnderstood/ii. /iI iwill /iitake /iicare /iiof /iiit/i.”

    “Don’t ipress /iiher/i,” I added. “iJust /iigive /iiher /iithe /iiair /iithat /iishe /iineeds /iiand /iikeep /iiher /iiughing /iiif /iiyou /iican/ii./ii” /i

    His chuckle came faint but sincere. “iThat/ii, /iibrother/i, iis /iithe /iione /iithing /iiI /iiknow /iihow /ito ido/i. Don’t iworry/i, ileave /iit to

    ime/ii./ii” /i

    I felt the bond settle as he withdrew, my hand tightening briefly on the letter before I set it down for good.

    -00:36