The Three Who Chose Me
Chapter 66: Lines Drawn in Silence

Chapter 66: Lines Drawn in Silence

Kiel

The moment I stepped into the room, the tension slammed into me like a wall. The air was thick—sharp with unspoken accusations and barely restrained fury. Voices ricocheted off the walls—heated, brittle, and unmistakably hostile. Marcy and Michelle stood toe-to-toe, glaring daggers at each other.

"What the hell is going on in here?" I growled, my voice slicing through the static tension.

Michelle’s lip curled. "Ask her what she said about Josie—"

"Enough!" My voice boomed across the room, louder than I intended. Michelle jumped slightly, startled. Marcy straightened, her jaw set, but she didn’t flinch. Her mouth remained tight, anger simmering behind her eyes. "Both of you—out. Now."

Michelle opened her mouth, likely to argue. I wasn’t in the mood.

"I said—get out," I barked, my tone leaving no room for argument.

They moved reluctantly, neither willing to concede even in retreat. As they passed, I reached out and caught Marcy’s arm.

"Not you," I said. "Wait outside."

Her eyes flicked to mine, then she nodded and stepped out, leaving the door ajar behind her.

When I turned back, I scanned the room, the adrenaline still pulsing through me. Josie stood near the bed, arms wrapped tightly across her chest like armor. Her eyes avoided mine, fixed somewhere over my shoulder. That... hurt more than it should have.

I clenched my jaw. I didn’t trust myself to speak—not without snapping, not while my pulse was pounding in my ears. I turned and stormed out before I said something I’d regret.

Michelle was halfway down the hall. I caught up in three strides.

"Leave. Now," I said through gritted teeth. "And don’t come near her again unless I say so."

She scoffed, but the warning in my tone did its job. She didn’t say another word. Just turned on her heel and disappeared down the hall.

Marcy was leaning against the wall by the doorway, arms crossed. Her expression was cooler now, but still guarded.

"You wanted to talk?" she asked, raising a brow.

I nodded, exhaling slowly. "Yeah. What the hell happened in there?"

"She was blaming Josie," Marcy said, voice low but fierce. "For everything. Called her manipulative. Said she was dangerous. I couldn’t let it slide. I snapped."

I dragged a hand through my hair, the weight of the situation pressing harder than ever. "Shit," I muttered. "Thanks... for standing up for her."

Marcy gave a small shrug. "Someone had to."

"You can go now," I said wearily. "I’ll handle the rest."

She didn’t argue.

I turned and walked back into the room. Josie hadn’t moved. Her back was still to me, arms hugging herself as if trying to hold in every broken piece. The silence between us was like a chasm—wide and deep and filled with everything we hadn’t said.

I walked closer, each step more cautious than the last.

"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice softer now.

She didn’t turn around. "What do you think?"

Her tone was calm, but there was an edge beneath it that made my throat tighten.

I hesitated. "Do you... want to talk about it?"

"I’d rather pull my hair out," she said flatly, not missing a beat.

I tried to smile, though it felt wrong on my face. "Fair enough."

I sat on the edge of the bed, leaving space between us. The mattress dipped beneath me, but she didn’t move. The distance—though physical—felt heavier than stone.

"She’s wrong, you know," I said finally, breaking the silence.

Josie turned, but her arms remained tightly folded. Her eyes met mine, cold and unreadable. "Does it matter?"

"Yes," I said without hesitation. "It matters to me."

She gave a bitter, almost humorless laugh. "Well, isn’t that convenient?"

"Don’t do that," I said, rising to my feet. "Don’t believe everything they say. You know me better than that."

"I don’t know you at all," she snapped. "None of you ever asked what really happened that day—before you killed my parents."

Her words hit like a punch to the gut. I stood frozen, my mouth slightly open.

"Josie..."

"I don’t feel safe here," she whispered.

That whisper gutted me. Not the volume, but the pain in it. The sheer, resigned agony that laced her voice. She wasn’t yelling. She wasn’t angry. She was tired. Tired of surviving. Tired of fighting.

"I didn’t know," I started, the words tumbling from my mouth, but she turned away again—cutting me off without saying a thing.

She didn’t want to hear it. Maybe she never would.

I stood there for what felt like forever, throat thick and jaw clenched, trying to piece together something—anything—that would fix this. But there was nothing.

Nothing I could say that would erase that pain in her voice.

"Josie..." I tried again.

Still nothing.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, nodded to myself, and walked out of the room.

Once I hit the hallway, I leaned against the wall, fists clenched at my sides, and let the silence wrap around me. Then I mind-linked my brothers.

"Where are you?"

"Border. Come." Varen’s voice.

I didn’t wait.

By the time I arrived at the border cottage, night had begun to fall. The cottage was quiet—almost too quiet—but the air buzzed with tension. I stepped in and found Thorne, and Varen, already waiting.

Varen handed me a glass as I walked in. I took it, but didn’t drink.

"She told you," he said, cutting straight to it.

I nodded tightly. "Yeah. She did."

Thorne leaned forward, his expression unreadable. "What exactly did she say?"

"She said enough," I muttered. "That’s all you need to know."

Varen arched a brow. "You’re sure that’s smart?"

"It’s not your call," I snapped, sharper than I meant to. "She trusted me with it."

That trust felt fragile now, like a thread fraying at both ends—but I wasn’t going to betray it.

"I’ll handle it," I added. "The rest of it. With Josie. Personally."

Varen folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe. "And how exactly do you plan to do that?"

I gave a dry chuckle, even though it felt hollow in my chest. "I’ll kiss her until she forgets how to argue."

Thorne rolled his eyes. "She’s just an omega, and she’s not—"

"Don’t," Varen cut in, voice quiet but razor-edged.

Silence stretched thick.

I turned slowly toward Thorne. "What the hell were you going to say?"

The air turned colder.

Thorne hesitated, but the flash of guilt in his eyes said enough. "I didn’t mean anything by it."

"You were going to say she’s not special," Varen said, his words sharp, no room for misunderstanding. "That’s what you think. That’s what you’ve always thought."

My heart thudded heavily against my ribs. "Are you serious?"

Thorne’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.

I stared at him, something frigid unfurling in my chest. "I thought we talked about this," I said quietly. "I thought we were all on the same damn page."

"We are," Thorne snapped. "I’m just being realistic."

"No," I said, shaking my head slowly. "You’re being a coward."

Thorne flinched like I’d struck him.

"She’s not just an omega. She’s Josie," I said. "And whether you like it or not, she’s a part of this now. She’s mine."

Thorne looked away.

"If you hate her that much..." Varen’s voice was cool, almost detached. "Then maybe you should do us all a favor and reject her."

The words hit the room like a grenade.

Thorne’s eyes snapped to Varen. "You think I haven’t thought about it?"

"No," I cut in before Varen could answer. "What I think is you’re afraid. Afraid that she’s not what you expected. Afraid that she challenges everything you think you know."

He didn’t speak.

"Do you really hate her that much?" I asked, quieter now.

Thorne didn’t answer.

He didn’t need to.

And that silence? It was louder than any scream.