Midnight Lies (Shifter Island #2) - Raye Wagner Page 0,56

about these things to her boys?

“He was killed,” she said plainly, her voice flat and devoid of emotion.

“By who?” Rage’s voice could cut glass.

Several seconds passed, the air swelling with tension. I fidgeted in my seat, wanting to say something, but to say anything would only be an accusation. I had nothing more than suspicion. Heavy, ugly suspicion.

“The official story … we were told the next day … was that Mackay killed your father.” She swallowed hard and picked at her nails.

“But you just said they were better than brothers. That Mackay was distraught. There with a pregnant mage … and you believe he came to assassinate Dad?”

Elaine closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. When she spoke, her voice was just over a whisper. “I try not to think about it, son.” She heaved with her next breath; her entire body shook and then she raised her chin and met Rage’s gaze in the rearview mirror, tears spilling from her eyes unchecked. “I try so hard to never think about that night”—her voice broke—“the night that left me a widow and single mother of four.”

Ouch.

That shut Rage up, and we drove for a few moments in silence except when Elaine sniffed. I rummaged through the car, but it was Rage who extended his hand filled with crumpled napkins from the center console. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

His mom said nothing, but the wheels were turning in my head. If my biological dad didn’t kill Rage’s dad … who did? Who had the most to gain that night from Rage’s dad, the king alpha dying?

‘What are you thinking?’ Rage asked.

I met his gaze, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to say it, even in my own thoughts—let alone to him.

‘You can tell me,’ he said.

Was that resignation in his voice? Did he think the same thing? Even if he didn’t, he was my mate. I wanted to do all I could to keep us on the same page.

After a deep breath, I dropped my gaze and spoke in a rush. ‘I think King Declan took advantage of the chaos my bio-dad caused that night … and killed your father to steal the crown.’

There. I’d said it.

The silence in my head was deafening—and then he snarled. I looked up as black pelts of fur rose on his neck. Rage’s eyes flashed yellow, and in a voice that was barely human, he said, ‘I think you’re right. And when I see him again, I’m going to enjoy tearing that monster limb from limb.’

Now definitely wasn’t the time to remind him we still had a curse to break so that could happen.

I settled into the car ride, letting the movement rock me as my mind chewed on everything. I was feeling relaxed when Rage let a curse word fly.

“Courage Midnight!” his mother scolded from her seat next to me.

“Sorry.” Rage growled. “But my watch … it’s … I forgot about the time difference between the worlds. We only have a few hours left to bring Honor back.”

I bolted upright. “What? We had like twenty hours!”

Rage met my gaze, sadness and panic filling his. “Well, now we have four.”

Frick. My grandpa had better be waiting for us the second we got to my father’s land.

Lost in our dark thoughts and haunted memories, I felt an eerie stillness pervaded the vehicle. When I started recognizing the landscape, my thoughts derailed, and nervous energy thrummed through me. I hadn’t spoken to my father in months. Phones didn’t work in the magic lands, and no visits were permitted. He wasn’t expecting to see me for another three and a half years…

When Rage pulled onto our land, I stared out the window at the plowed and dried-up cornfields now harvested and covered with a light dusting of snow, the wildflower meadow likewise blanketed in white. Smoke puffed from the chimney of our cabin. I couldn’t breathe as I was suddenly overwhelmed with homesickness, only to be doused with terror as the pack trickled outside, likely brought by the crunch of our tires on the hardened snow.

I sucked in a ragged breath, trying to control the panic clawing through me. As if Rage could feel its hold on me, he reached back and grasped my hand, squeezing it tightly.

‘We’ve got this.’

I scoffed. ‘Really? Does my dad know Nolan is dead?’

‘Maybe.’ Rage grimaced. ‘Usually, the king sends a letter to the family.’

Usually. ‘What about fated mates? Does your douchebag uncle send letters about that?’ I was 85.9% sure no one told my