Lennox’s POV
Olivia abruptly turned to me. "You’re the eldest, Lennox," Olivia said, her voice trembling but sharp with pain. "You’re skilled, you’re trained—you can’t make such a mistake. Not like this." Her frown deepened, and I could feel the hurt under her anger, the disappointment that I could wound Levi the way I had.
My chest tightened. I wanted to argue, to tell her it was a mistake, that I hadn’t meant for the cut to land as deep as it had. But looking at her—at the disappointment swimming in her gaze—I couldn’t bring myself to speak. The protest died on my tongue.
Instead, I dropped my eyes, swallowing the bitter weight pressing in my throat. "I’m sorry," I murmured, the words barely more than a whisper. I meant it because they weren’t just for Levi. They were for her too.
Levi let out a sharp scoff, shifting where the healer worked on his side. "Sorry? You almost skewered me, Lennox. That didn’t feel like a mistake—it felt like you meant it." His voice was tight, laced with pain and bitterness.
The words made me flinch, though I kept my face still. I didn’t argue. I didn’t defend myself. I just turned, shoulders heavy, and walked out, leaving the room.
I didn’t head for my room. No. The walls of the mansion were too suffocating, too heavy with their eyes, their words. Olivia’s voice replayed in my head.
And Levi... his face, twisted with pain, with suspicion. Why would he think I’d want to hurt him? Why would Olivia even believe for a second that I could...
The weight in my chest grew unbearable. My wolf paced inside me, snarling, restless, but even he didn’t have the words to fight them off. So I did the only thing I could—I left the packhouse.
I took the stairs down two at a time, shoving past the heavy doors of the mansion until the morning air hit my lungs. My hands shook as I gripped the keys and climbed into one of the cars. The engine roared to life, and I drove—fast, reckless, needing distance, needing silence.
By the time I pulled into my own house, my head was pounding with too many thoughts. I slammed the door behind me, the echo ringing through the quiet halls. My housekeeper startled in the kitchen, but I didn’t stop for explanations. I went straight to the fridge, yanked it open, and pulled out every bottle of alcohol I could carry. Whiskey. Vodka. Rum. Anything strong enough to burn.
Clutching them to my chest, I climbed the stairs to my room. Tonight, I wasn’t Lennox the eldest, the leader, the strong one. Tonight, I was just a man who felt like he was losing everything—his brothers, his mate, and maybe even himself.
I dropped the bottles onto the nightstand with a loud thud, twisting open the first one without even bothering to see what it was. Whiskey. The burn scorched down my throat, but it wasn’t enough. I wanted it to numb me, to drown the ache in my chest, but my body—my cursed Alpha strength—kept it from taking hold.
I grabbed another. Vodka this time. The sharp bite followed the fire of the whiskey, but still, nothing dulled. My wolf snarled inside me, angry, restless. He hated this weakness, hated the way I was trying to drown us.
"This won’t fix it," he growled.
"I don’t care," I muttered aloud, tipping the bottle again, the liquid spilling messily down my chin. "I just want to forget... just for a moment."
I lost track of time. Bottle after bottle, I kept drinking, each one heavier in my hand than the last. My vision blurred at the edges, my thoughts tangled, and still I forced another swallow. Any normal man would’ve been unconscious by now. But my body fought it, held me up.
Until it didn’t.
My knees buckled, and I sank onto the edge of the bed, head swimming, chest tight with something that wasn’t just alcohol. It was pain. Betrayal. Loneliness. Olivia’s voice echoing in my head, Levi’s accusation stabbing deep.
That’s when it came.
A mind link from Louis.
"Lennox?" His voice rang through the link, calm but edged with unease.
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