87

Word Count: 2024

~Sienna

I wander inside, my pulse beating in my throat.

"What is going on?" I ask warily, scanning Zion's horrified face and the plate of food in front of him that is completely untouched.

Christian doesn't stand, continuing to eat as if there isn't anything wrong with what is occurring here.

"We're having dinner." He uses his fork to gesture at the chair opposite him at the table. "Come on, sit down."

My eyes drift over the room, taking in the guards who stand in each corner of the room, looking unbothered by the fact that their Alpha is tied up right in front of them.

"Where is Onyx?" I ask softly, panic swelling in the pit of my stomach.

"We'll get to that. Sit down." Christian's voice hardens around the edges as he nods again to the chair.

I shake my head. "No. Tell me where my mate is. Now."

"Sit down," he snaps, so suddenly and viciously I obey him, sinking down into the chair opposite to him.

He resumes eating with a ragged breath, rolling his shoulders as if to leak the tension out of them. I study him quietly, trying to stop myself from launching into a full blown panic.

Onyx is missing, and I need to find him. It's all I can focus on, especially when it's completely possible Christian has killed him.

"Perfect." He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. "I'll take your gag off soon, Zion, don't worry. I understand you need to eat."

Zion blinks a few times, looking at me desperately. There's nothing I can do to help him, and he is far from my first priority.

"Why is he gagged?" I ask uneasily.

"He wouldn't stop screaming at me." Christian adjusts his collar, his neck scarlet red. "He needs to work on his tone when talking to his family."

This has officially become the weirdest and most bizarre experience of my life. Christian is acting as if he hasn't lost his mind, and one of the most powerful Alpha's are tied to the chair while his guards watch on impassively.

Christian nudges a plate of green beans toward me, indicating that he wants me to eat.

Slowly, I reach for the tongs, my hands trembling. It's impossible to have an appetite when my mate might be dead, and my half-brother is sitting before me, entirely insane.

"It's okay though. I can also get mad quite easily. It's why it's important I don't put myself in positions where that happens," he prattles on.

"It's not always possible to avoid things that make you angry," I bring up awkwardly.

He angles his head contemplatively while I reach for a bowl of mashed potatoes. I have intention of touching anything here, lest it's poisoned, but I don't want Christian reacting harshly from my lack of compliance.

"No, I suppose not." He shrugs. "It's why I chose to surround myself with people who have my best interests in mind."

Zion groans lowly, but Christian ignores him.

What might be the most disturbing detail of this entire ordeal is the fact that both Zion and Christian are dressed in immaculate suits, like this is a grand affair to be celebrated.

Goddess please, don't let this be Onyx's wake.

"Can you tell me what's going on already," I beg, my grip tightening on my fork.

"Eat...go on," he says instead. "You must be hungry. You've been unconscious for two days."

Two days? That's not good...so much can happen in two days, and yet it feels like no time has passed for me at all.

"Actually I feel quite ill," I retort bluntly.

"Alright." He sighs roughly, turning his seat to click his fingers at one of Zion's staff. "Hey you. Yeah you, go get her some soup or something."

A mortified member of staff freezes at the instruction, before nodding curtly, rushing out of the room.

"I'm fine. Seriously."

"You can't go without food. It's important," he says in a tone that makes me bristle. He's speaking to me as if I'm a child who has no concept of what is right for them.

My frustration builds to a climax. I toss my fork down with violent clatter, slamming my hand down on the table. It makes my plate wobble, and causes Zion to release a distressed noise.

"Just tell me why I'm here already!"

I expect Christian's expression to morph into one of anger, but he remains uncharacteristically calm. He's been trying to push off my reaction, but he can't any longer.

"While Zion doesn't like to believe we are related, we are," he mutters, casting a cold look toward the Alpha. "It's time we become a family."

"You don't need family to take power. Kill Zion and set me free. Now that I'm married to Onyx, I don't want anything to do with this land," I insist.

Christian can do whatever he pleases to Zion. It's none of my business anymore. If he believes I'm a threat to his claim, he's wrong.

Instead, he looks offended, as if I've just insulted him.

"Kill my father? Have you lost your mind?" He shouts, his voice booming through the room, making me wince.

"You killed my mother!" I snap back. It's not that far of a reach to assume Christian is capable of taking Zion's life.

He takes a pause to reach for his glass of red wine. The movement is stiff and restrained, like he wants to hit something and is resisting. I wait for him to take a sip, which calms him down a touch.

"How can our family be full when you have another one to turn to?" He asks.

I gape at him, bewildered.

This really is about creating a family. This isn't some sick revenge fantasy he's playing out, tormenting us for the sake of his own enjoyment. He's brought us here, effectively eliminating everyone who stands in his path, to bring a family together.

"You need to tell me where Onyx is. Right now," I seethe lowly, trying to keep my voice under control.

He sighs dramatically, his elbows bumping against the table while his head falls into his hands. He digs his palms into his eyes, muttering something indecipherable under his breath.

"Calm down, he's not dead," he grumbles, pulling his hands away. "If I kill him, there is a chance you die, and I'm not risking my sisters life. That would be insane."

He wouldn't risk my life, but he will take my mothers' and countless other girls who were innocent in all of this.

"What's insane, is that you have an Alpha tied up at this table, another one missing, and your sister kidnapped!"

Zion nods from the other end of the table. Trying to speak against the cloth of his gag, but it only comes out as an incoherent mumble.

"It's only temporary," he assures me. "Once our father calms down, we can have a civil conversation."

"Please, I need to know Onyx is okay." I lower my voice, hoping to reason with him, to make him see sense.

I'm not going to be satisfied until I see him with my own eyes. I have no reason to trust Christian's claim, and even if Onyx is alive, he could be in a terrible state right now.

Christian waves his hand dismissively. "He's fine. You would know if he was dead."

"Where is he?"

"He's somewhere safe and far away. Don't think about it anymore. There's enough to concentrate on as it is," he exasperates.

I scowl at him as he resumes eating. He's almost cleared his plate at this point, although I suspect he will go back for more if it means keeping us at this table.

To him, Onyx must mean nothing to me. Especially if he believes I can put his safety out of my mind and concentrate on Christian's ridiculous delusions. Unfortunately, though, he's making it clear he won't reveal my mates location to me.

"Don't you have another family elsewhere? What about your mother?" I ask breathlessly. There has to be someone close to him that can make him see sense.

His mouth twists in disgust.

"My mother is a lunatic. She stole away my chance to have a father, a sister," he explains tightly. "She's not the family I want."

It takes everything in me to keep my jaw from going slack and my disbelief to become apparent on my face. He's chosen a family that doesn't even want one over another.

"Do you have any idea what Zion did to me? To my mother?" I question.

"He was trying to unite our family," Christian states steadily. "Sure, Alston was never going to be good enough for you, but it was a start."

"You're insane. You have to be," I mutter.

Christian doesn't know the years of abuse I endured while living here as a child. He doesn't realise that my mother fled Zion out of fear.

He doesn't care about any of that. Even if I told him, he would brush it off, wanting to focus on the family he could create, that he's dreamt up in his deluded mind.

"At some point I expect a niece or nephew, of course." His mouth twitches into a smile that makes my stomach twist. "I have someone suitable in mind, if all things go well."

I don't even want to ask. I bet it's one of his friends who is in on this delusion.

"Who is more suitable than my mate?"

"Onyx has strong genetics, sure, but his interests compete with ours," he explains, scraping the side of his fork against the plate to get every bit off food off of it. The sound is grating, but still less so than the ideas Christian is spouting.

"So what, you expect us to all hold hands and skip off into the sunset together?" My laugh is cold and bitter. "You think you can just kidnap me out of my home and tie Zion down and expect us to want to play happy families?"

I can only imagine what Zion will have to say once the binds are removed from his mouth. He's staring Christian down like he wants to kill him, his eyes occasionally darting down to the large knife embedded in the roast.

I would reach for it myself were there not armed guards at every turn, watching me, like they know what I'm contemplating.

"First of all, I can do without the holding hands and skipping element." He leans back in his chair with a hearty sigh. "And eventually you will start to see reason. It's natural."

"You can't keep us here," I bring up sourly. "Eventually someone will realise something is wrong."

"I have a lot of friends in high places." He motions around himself. "I'm communicating as Zion to the relevant people. I can keep onlookers out for a while. Maybe I'll claim he's fallen ill and needs isolation to heal."

I stand abruptly from my seat, the chair making an awful scraping sound.

"I'm leaving," I announce.

"No, you're not going anywhere, sister. Try leave, and the guards will drag you right back." He nods at two of them next to the door.

I eye them warily, my brows drawing together. Their hands ghost over their belts, where their weapons are slung on display.

"You may as well kill me. I'll never give you what you want," I tell Christian. I won't be kept here as his sister. I can't live that kind of lie.

"You'll have no other choice," he exclaims darkly. "Especially if you want to see your mate again."

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