The marble floor beneath him was so hard that his knees were undoubtedly going to ache for hours afterwards. But Michael only continued to endure the pain by kneeling in front of the foot of the dais, eyes casted down to the floor as he waited for his father to speak.

An hour had certainly already passed since he first entered the Throne Room in the middle of the night and finally came clean about everything—Gabriel, Ellette, his mother, and Aria. It was not something he wanted to do, but had to if he hoped to gain his father's help.

But with the deafening silence mixed with the dread growing inside of him with every passing second, Michael could not help but wonder if he had been too naive to expect a positive outcome.

Because things were either going to go one of two ways—his father would either kill him or spare him. He, of course, was hoping on the latter, but still weary enough to remember to always expect the worst when it came to his father.

His father's footsteps neared, and as tempted as Michael was to lift his head and look up at him, he only continued to stare down at his own reflection in the polished marble floor.

"Tell me why you are here and not fleeing to the ends of the world where you think I will not find you?" His father's voice was eerily calm.

"To ask for your help."

"My help?" He scoffed, then began to make his way down the steps. "You did not wish for my help when you suspected your brother of falling prey to Fae bloodlust. When you and your mother concocted your plans of siding with the Fae and turning your backs on the pack, you did not wish for my help then. When you learned of Aria's treason and her exploitation of your brother, you did not come to me for help. You did not allow me to fix it! Like a fool, you let me host her in my home and even consider granting her request, all the while knowing what she had done. And you now have the audacity to ask for my help? For a wretched little fairy you call your mate? Where was this fighting spirit for your brother?"

Michael lifted his head and glared at his father standing at the foot of the dais. Disgust was written all over his face as he stared down at Michael, his brown eyes darkened by rage.

Did he really think Michael had not done all he could to help Gabriel? To save him?

"I went to the Woodlands and nearly died to save Gabriel. I agreed to go to war against the Fae because I believed they had wronged him."

"And yet here you are, living and breathing while he is buried six feet under. So, tell me, how hard did you really try?"

Michael's heart sank.

There it was—confirmation of what Michael had always suspected; heard in his father's voice every time he spoke to him; saw in his father's eyes whenever they landed upon him; felt every time he was within a hundred-foot radius of him.

His father's belief the wrong son had died.

But hurt as he was, he did not have time to wallow in the pain of that truth.

"I know whatever I say will not convince you that what mother and I did was the right thing to do. I did not come here to do that, but to ask you to help me help save the wretched little fairy who saved my life when she had every right to let me die. The fairy who is the reason why you still have an heir and a throne that cannot be usurped so long as I am breathing."

He hoped the reminder would force his father to stand down. To speak about his mate with a little more respect.

"Because she is not your enemy. The enemies of the Wolves and the Fae have always been the Witches, and they are ultimately the reason why she is stuck behind in our world. I want nothing more than to put an end to their treachery once and for all, and their belief they can use us as pawns in their wicked games. But for right now, I need you to do nothing to tempt them until she is safe from the dangers of the world we created.

"But if you cannot look past your hate for the Fae and your feelings of betrayal, then do what you must. But know that I will do what I must to ensure my mate makes it home to her people on Moonrise. And if you wish to hold on to your throne and power for a little while longer, then you will help me."

His father walked over to him, stopping when only a foot of space was between them. He then lowered to his haunches, his face inches away from Michael's.

"And what does your little fairy returning to her wretched people have to do with my throne?"

"Everything. Because if she does not make it out, then she will die. And if that happens, I will follow."

A threat and a promise.

His father clenched his jaw as he glared at Michael, who only glared back as he was too determined not to lose. Too determined to make sure his father understood exactly what he was implying, and saw just how serious he was.

After a few heated seconds, his father rose from his haunches and stood up straight while staring down at Michael.

"What is it you require?"

"Your command that no wolf shall enter the Woodlands on the night of the upcoming full moon."

Since the Fae's escape, the Woodlands had become a sort of playground for the Wolves to roam on every full moon. Ellette had managed to keep herself hidden from them for nearly a year, but opening the door to the Fae world required her to be out in the open. He could not run the risk of the pack getting anywhere near her.

"Is that all?"

"And...your knowledge on how to stop a shift."

His father shook his head. "You are not strong enough."

Michael opened his mouth to protest but his father cut him off.

"Your beast, who has been locked up and wants nothing more than to be free, will have to agree. And if you were caged for a month, and your one night of freedom was going to be taken away, would you agree?"

"You have done it many times."

"And every time I have, I suffered the cost greatly. Because if it does not agree—and it rarely does—a caged wolf will do anything to break free, even if it means tearing, biting, and clawing its way out. Believe it or not, that is a pain I truly wish you to never feel. I do not know what opening this magical door entails, but I am sure you can do it in wolf form."

His father turned his back to him and began to climb the steps back up to the platform. When he reached the top, he stopped. "But if you cannot," he said over his shoulder, "I find what helps is to think of a worse pain to combat it. Something to keep you grounded and prevent you from giving in to the shift."

"What do you think of?" Although he asked, he already knew what his answer would most likely be—losing Gabriel, as that was undoubtedly his father's worst pain. But, much to Michael's surprise, his father said the last thing he ever expected to hear.

"Burying my sons," he confessed, then walked towards his throne.

Sons. Plural.

If there had been more time, maybe Michael would have been able to fully process his father's admission and think about how it made him feel. But his father's trek to his throne signaled their conversation was nearing its end, and he still had yet to hear him agree to the Woodlands being off limits.

"Will you—"

"I will command the pack not to enter, but only on one condition." When he reached his throne, he stood before it instead of taking a seat.

"Tell me."

Michael waited for his father to turn around and face him, but he only kept his back to him as he stood in front of his throne.

"That you send your fairy off and return home."

It was a promise he could not keep and therefore should not make, but he had no other choice. "Agreed."

"Agreed," his father repeated.

* * *

Michael spotted Lukas immediately upon exiting the Throne Room. Dressed all in black, the guard was leaning against the wall across from him, arms crossed and eyes staring directly at him. His body language hinted at anger, and the look he tossed Michael's way solidified he was upset about something.

He had commanded Lukas to stay outside and ensure nobody entered the Throne Room while he talked to his father. In doing so, he must have heard everything.

Not that Michael cared. If he had feared him learning the truth, he would not have asked the guard to accompany him. But he was not in the mood to be confronted by Lukas' thoughts or feelings on the matter. He had come out of the room alive, and all he wanted was to return to his chambers and watch over the Woodlands and the girl who was the reason why he had no choice but to survive.

Just as he was about to tell the guard he was ready to leave, Lukas' eyes shifted to Michael's left. He followed his gaze to find his mother standing against the wall in her robe and nightgown, her blue eyes already gazing at him.

Dread filled him instantly. He looked at the Throne Room door then back at her. "What are you doing here? And where are your guards?"

The last place she should be was anywhere near his father unprotected.

She pushed herself from the wall and walked up to him. "I am here for the same reason you are."

Had she been outside the whole time and heard everything? If so, she had to have known that being anywhere near his father was not a good idea. He had only made it out alive because he had something to bargain with. What did she have to offer that could quell the Alpha's anger and justify her betrayal to him? She had no hidden card that could spare her.

He shook his head and grabbed hold of her arm. "Let us go. You will stay in my chambers tonight."

She placed her hand on top of his and pulled it away. "I must talk with your father."

"He will kill you," he sneered.

"He will not."

Michael sighed. It was taking everything in him not to yell at her for thinking his father would demand anything other than her life for what she had done.

"Then I will go in with you."

She smiled and lifted her hand to his cheek. "No. You will return to your chambers and I will see you in the morning. Go."

Michael placed his hand on top of hers. He stared into her eyes, begging her to reconsider, but the iciness replacing the warmth reminded him he could not ignore an Alpha Female's command.

He dropped his hand and stepped aside to allow her access to the door. She moved towards it and lifted her hand to the handle.

"I will see you in the morning, mother."

She looked back at him and nodded. "You will."

He nodded once in return and turned away. "Come on," he said to Lukas before storming down the corridor.

The trek to the second floor was quiet, and Michael was on edge as he did not know if that was a good or bad thing. Would it continue, or be cut short by his mother's screams at any given moment?

Lukas still trailed behind him but had not said a word. And when Michael ventured off the path to his chambers and suddenly turned down the dimly lit corridor that housed Gabriel's, Lukas still remained quiet.

He did not venture to that part of the castle often, but tonight—after so many truths and secrets had been revealed—he felt compelled to stop by. When he eyed the closed wooden door at the end of the corridor, guilt weighed heavily on his chest as he neared it. The room had been off limits to everyone except him and his parents, but he could count on one hand how many times he had visited since Gabriel's death.

He would do better, he told himself as he walked up to the door. But when he placed his hand on the handle, Lukas finally breaking the silence stopped him.

"Is it true?"

Michael huffed, dropping his hand and turning around to address Lukas. "Is what true?"

"Everything you told the Alpha in the Throne Room."

So, he had heard.

Was he upset about learning his sister would never fit where Ellette resided inside of his heart? If so, his feelings would not change the truth, nor would using this opportunity to confront him about it.

"You were eavesdropping?"

Lukas did not answer, his green eyes only continued glaring at Michael. It was not a challenge, just a brewing curiosity and an intense yearning for the truth. He probably wanted a reason to prove whether or not Michael was worth protecting.

"Everything I told my father is true."

Was he going to cast judgement upon him, too?

"Everything? Even about that night...about what Gabriel did?"

"Gabriel?"

Out of all the secrets Michael revealed, Lukas wanted to know about Gabriel? Sure, they had been close once upon a time, but he figured their friendship had ended when Lukas and his mother left the protection of the pack years ago.

"What night are you talking about?"

"The night he was in the Woodlands and killed the fairy."

The night his brother first fed on Fae blood and sentenced himself to an unchangeable fate.

"Why is the truth about that night so important to you?"

"Because..." he lowered  his head, "if it is... If it is true, then... Gabriel was there because of me. And if that is true, then I am the reason he—"

"What are you talking about?"

"The night he killed the fairy... he went there to meet me."

Michael walked up to Lukas and grabbed him by his collar. "What the hell are you saying? Why was Gabriel there to meet you?"

Lukas would not meet his eyes nor answer, which forced Michael to yank him closer. "Tell me!"

"We reconnected by chance, and, for months, we met up in secret. One day, I asked him to run away with me. After telling him of my plans to leave the North, I asked him to meet me in the Woodlands and decide whether he would come with me, but I never showed."

Run away? Why the hell would he have made such a request of the future Alpha? "Why?"

"Because I knew he was going to choose duty over me."

"Over you?"

He finally looked up and into Michael's eyes. "Over me," he repeated. The second time insinuated what he would not—could not—say.

Gabriel and Lukas had been more than just best friends.

Michael's eyes widened and his grip on Lukas' shirt loosened. Danica's revelation of her betrothal to Gabriel and her words to him all those weeks ago crossed his mind.

'Is it that you truly do not desire a mate, or do you not want a mate if it cannot be the one you truly desire?'

'As a matter of fact, you are very much like him.'

Michael took a step back. "Are you saying..." His mind was racing so much that he could barely string together a cohesive thought.

Did his parents know? They must have. That same day he learned Danica had been intended for Gabriel, he had heard their hushed whispers about Gabriel in the West Wing.

'Gabriel always put his duty first.'

'Yes, and at the expense of his happiness.'

Why had Gabriel not told him?

"I loved your brother, and he loved me. But he also loved your mother and father, the pack, and you, Michael. If he left, you would have been alone, and he could not bring himself to abandon you."

Michael turned away and hung his head low.

He knew it was not Lukas' intention, but him telling Michael that his brother did not want to abandon him only made Michael feel like he was to blame for how things turned out.

He could blame Lukas for not meeting Gabriel that night, and leaving him wide open to become preyed upon by Aria.

He could blame their world, which demanded duty and loyalty over all else.

And he could blame himself for being a constant worry to his big brother.

But would it have solved or changed anything? Would it bring Gabriel back so that he, Lukas, and their world could repent?

No. It would not.

Michael lifted his head and stared at the closed door. "Did the Witches tell you not to go?"

"What? Of course not!"

"Then it is not your fault. The only one to blame for Gabriel's death is Aria. She set everything in motion, and used Gabriel to pit the Wolves against the Fae. That night...unfortunately, that night was the perfect time for her to attack."

"But if I had only gone—"

"But you did not, and you cannot change that fact. No matter how much you blame yourself, it will not bring Gabriel back. You did not take him from us."

Lukas had wanted him to be free, but we had kept him caged.

He walked up to the door and opened it. He looked back at Lukas and gestured for him to enter, but Lukas only looked at him, brows furrowed. "I think you might need this more than me right now. Take as long as you need."

"I...cannot."

"You can, and you will. And you will not come out until you have forgiven yourself. That is a command."

Because he could not disobey, Lukas' gaze shifted from him to the room. After a deep breath, he moved forward and stepped inside of Gabriel's chambers, only venturing a few steps in before stopping.

Lukas dropping his head was the last thing Michael saw before closing the door and leaning back against it. Guarding it. Trapping Lukas inside, and trapping himself outside.

Although they were quiet, he heard Lukas's sobs. Tears filled his eyes in response, and together, yet apart, the two cried.

And as Michael stood there, the sound of Lukas' pain and heartbreak being released—probably for the first time ever—only solidified his need to never have to know what it felt like to lose the love of his life.