Second Assault — Bond And Treason — novel Chapter 8

Saturday, April 6th. The Mansion Arsenal, 10:40 a.m.

FREDEK

I haven't been able to sleep. No matter how hard I try, no matter how much I toss and turn in bed, no matter how much I force my eyes to be closed, I can't fall asleep. The image of Xander being kidnapped keeps repeating in my head, and the fear that something might happen to him is burning deep in my bones. I should have done something.

I should have acted and tried to at least help him at that moment when he needed me most. But fear paralyzed me in place and I did absolutely nothing. All around me was chaos, death, and despair. My eyes caught the shattered glass on the floor, the dents created by bullets in the walls and cars, bodies falling lifelessly on the asphalt, people screaming and running around, trying to protect their lives, and Xander... Being hit in the head and dragged away from our protection by two men.

I should have moved then. Alexei had insisted years ago that I learn to handle weapons and hand-to-hand defense, but training is useless when fear takes over in such a situation. I tried to regain control and react, but it was no use. Completely in vain. Now my friend is missing and my brother devastated.

I was shocked by the words Derek said that day. I've always known that his feelings for Xander are deep and complicated, but I never imagined that it would be to the point of confronting my brother, knowing full well what could happen to him. Fortunately, Alexei has not yet done anything to "put him in his place", but I know him and I am certain that this will not stay that way. And I won't lie, it hurt.

I was hurt to witness his reaction and the things he said. I realize that they have known each other for years, but I also believe that his words were not those of a mere friend. They meant more to him, and Alexei noticed that too. I finish assembling the small explosive device in my hands and lean back against the chair, stretching my stiff neck in several directions until I manage to loosen the knots a bit.

Needless to say, the atmosphere at The Mansion has been the most tense and hostile I have ever felt. Everyone is on edge because of my brother's mood and the lack of an Omega with enough conviction and strength to control the emotions of such a large group of shapeshifters. Xander was happy with the job. Me? Not even close. I can only deal with a small group and juggling so I don't feel overwhelmed. I take a deep breath and stand up and walk out of the arsenal.

I've spent the last four days eating and sleeping here, going back to my room just to use the bathroom. Maybe it wasn't a good idea to choose isolation, but if there's one thing Alexei and I are alike, it's that we both need time with ourselves before we can face the world.

I start walking and before I know where my feet are leading me, I'm standing in front of his office door. Soon a weight is placed on my shoulders and I feel suffocated. It takes me a moment to figure out that these are the emotions that Alexei is conveying and that my Omega side is doing its best not to be affected.

I grab the doorknob with my trembling hand and open it. The office is in complete darkness and the image I perceive of my brother leaves me frozen for a few minutes. He is sitting in the chair, with a hand on the desk and a cigarette about to extinguish between the fingers. His eyes are fixed on a blind spot in the office and I don't think he has noticed me yet.

He seems... Destroyed. Like he's got all the weight in the world on his back and I haven't even taken a closer look yet. I subtly knock on the door to get his attention and when his face turns towards me, I can see the surprise he has in finding me here.

—Come in — mumbles with severity, according to his cold and distant countenance. I close the door delicately and approach, taking a seat in front of him —. How are you? — he asks, extinguishing the flame of the tobacco in the ceramic ashtray.

I should be the one asking that question, but I don't need to ask it, since I can see the answer perfectly. Up close, I can assess his condition much better. Though he wears a suit, his hair is disheveled, the beard is several days old, and huge dark circles under the eyes stain the features of his face with purple tones which, even when exhausted and deprived of sleep, are still intimidating.

—I'm sorry, Alexei — I whisper, ignoring the question. My voice is shaky and high-pitched —. I should have done something, but I couldn't. I froze. I didn't know what to do...