CHAPTER 114: 116: A TRUTH THAT BURNS

Kiel

I just stared at her. The words she’d thrown at me hung between us like smoke after an explosion—choking, impossible to ignore. My mind caught on them like they were barbed wire, and for a second, I wasn’t even sure I’d heard her right.

"Where the hell did you get that from?" I demanded. My voice came out sharper than I meant, cutting through the air like a whip, but there was no way to soften it now.

Josie laughed. Not a real laugh—there was no warmth in it, no curve of amusement in her mouth or eyes. It was the kind of laugh you gave someone you couldn’t stand, one that was sharper than glass and meant to cut. It was short, biting, and full of contempt.

"The only thing I need from you," she said, every word like a drop of acid eating through steel, "is for you to leave. I really can’t stand the way you act towards me anymore."

Her words slammed into me harder than I would ever admit to her face. I felt something twist low in my gut, but I locked my jaw and forced my voice into something steady.

"You’re mistaken," I said, the words ground out between clenched teeth. "Completely mistaken. I want to know who’s been spreading lies to you."

Her eyes flared, mouth opening to bite back, but before she could get the words out, Varen’s voice cut across the room—low, firm, and carrying that weight that always made people listen.

"That’s enough," he said.

Josie didn’t calm down. She was shaking—not from fear, but from a kind of sharp-edged hysteria that made every movement jerky and unpredictable. Her eyes were glassy, wild, and her breaths came too fast, too shallow.

"What happened isn’t what you think," Varen told her, taking a slow step toward her like she was a cornered animal.

She snapped her head toward him, eyes flashing. "Oh, really? Because Michelle told me the truth, and it makes a lot more sense than anything either of you have ever said."

My hands curled into fists so tight my nails bit into my palms. "Since when," I barked, "do you start listening to Michelle? That woman is out to destroy me, Josie! And I’m not going to let that happen. I’ll make her pay dearly for this—mark my words."

I didn’t give her a chance to fire back. My chest felt too tight, my skin too hot. I spun on my heel and stalked toward the door before I did something I’d regret in front of both her and Varen.

The rage in me was molten, rolling under my ribs, pressing for release. My vision tunneled, and all I could think about was getting out of that suffocating room.

I made it three steps before a shadow fell across my path. One of the elders stood there, blocking me, that same maddeningly blank expression plastered across his face. I hated that look—like nothing in the world could touch them, like they were above everything.

"Kiel," he said evenly, "what exactly did Josie mean just now?"

"I’m not answering that." The words were clipped, sharp enough to cut. My patience was already splintering.

"You’ll have to," he said, his voice still calm. "We need to understand why she believes this. We can’t help you if—"

"I didn’t ask for your help," I snapped, my voice rising. "I have my reasons for what I did."

His eyes narrowed just slightly. "Your reasons are making things harder for us. You’re supposed to be making them easier."

That was the shove I didn’t need. My shoulders squared, my voice dropping into a growl. "I don’t answer to you. Don’t mistake my restraint for obedience."

We were close now, too close, my glare locked with his. The tension between us was seconds from snapping when the door behind me opened again.

Varen stepped out, his expression tight, movements quick—like someone running on too much adrenaline.

"What happened?" I asked immediately, my focus shifting to him.

"She’s safe," he said quickly, raising his hands like he thought I might bolt past him. "But she’s more upset. More paranoid."

I ground my teeth. "And?"

His tone dropped, each word deliberate. "And I just got word—someone has a video. Something that could implicate Michelle."

Every thought I’d been juggling froze. "Where?" I demanded.

"I know who has it," he said. "We can go now."

The elders, naturally, decided they were coming with us—muttering about how this was their business too. I didn’t bother hiding my glare. My jaw ached from clenching so hard, but I kept my mouth shut.

These days, I trusted them less than I trusted my enemies. At least my enemies were honest about wanting me dead. The elders... they wore neutrality like armor, but lately, they were leaning just a little too much toward the wrong side.

We walked in tense silence, the air between us thick with things no one wanted to say. The sun had dipped lower, turning the sky a bruised shade of purple as we neared the border.

That’s where I saw him—a scrawny teenager, maybe sixteen, standing stiffly beside two adults who had to be his parents. His clothes hung a little loose, and his sneakers were scuffed like he’d been pacing. His eyes flicked between me and the elders like he was calculating the best way to escape if things went wrong.

I didn’t waste time. I stepped forward, letting my presence fill the space between us. He flinched like I’d struck him.

"Show us," I ordered, my tone leaving no room for argument.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his hands twitching against his sides.

"Now," I pressed, letting the steel in my voice cut through whatever hesitation he had left.

But instead of moving, his gaze darted to Varen, almost pleading. I was the last person in the world he wanted to deal with, and I could feel his fear rolling off him in waves.

"Kiel," Varen said quietly, leaning closer to me. "You’re scaring him. Let me handle it."

I bit back the retort building on my tongue and stepped aside—barely. My stance didn’t soften, but I gave Varen the space.

He crouched slightly so he was closer to the boy’s eye level, his voice dropping to that patient, steady tone I couldn’t summon right now. "We just want to see what you’ve got. Nobody’s here to hurt you. Okay?"

The boy’s breathing slowed, just a little. His shoulders loosened, though his eyes kept darting between me and Varen. After a moment, he fumbled in his pocket, pulling out a battered phone.

His fingers moved over the screen, shaky but determined, and after what felt like far too long, he turned it toward us.

The elders leaned in, expressions carefully blank. But I saw what was on that screen. And I felt my stomach turn into stone.

The first clip played. Michelle, standing over Josie in a dimly lit room. The shadows cut across her face, but the glint of the blade in her hand was impossible to miss. If Varen hadn’t been there that night... I shoved the thought away.

The second clip was worse. Michelle, calm as anything, tampering with a drink Josie was about to take. Her movements were precise, deliberate, almost practiced. My teeth ground together so hard my jaw popped.

And then the third—clear daylight this time, no shadows to hide her. A blatant attempt on Josie’s life, caught from start to finish. No room for excuses. No way to twist it.

By the time the video ended, my chest was rising and falling too fast. The air felt heavy, like it was pressing down on me from all sides, and the ground under my boots felt too small to hold me.

"She dies," I said, the words low, final, absolute. "We kill her."

No one argued. Not this time.