Page 50 of Crown of the Mist

“How was work yesterday?” Gray asks, breakingme away from my thoughts.

My fork freezes halfway to my mouth. “It was fine,” I say quickly, too quickly.

Gray’s sharp gaze narrows slightly, but he doesn’t push. Not yet.

“Fine?” Jace prompts, raising an eyebrow. “That’s it? Come on, Bree, give us something to work with here.”

“It’s work,” I say, forcing a lightness into my voice. “Same as always.”

But it’s not. Jason’s voice still echoes in my head, his words cutting deeper than I want to admit.

"You’re just like Phil said.”

"Not happy unless someone’s got you pinned to the wall."

The words coil around my throat like barbed wire. I swallow hard, but they don’t go away.

I stare at my plate, suddenly nauseous. The food that had smelled so comforting earlier now feels like lead in my stomach.

“You’re lying,” Theo says softly, his tone careful but unyielding.

My head snaps up, and my heart stutters at the weight of their combined attention.

“I’m not lying,” I protest, but the words soundhollow, even to me.

“You’re hiding something,” Rhett says, his voice low and steady, like he’s testing the waters.

My pulse quickens, and I grip the edge of the table to keep my hands from shaking. “It’s nothing. Just... a long day. That’s all.”

They don’t look convinced. Jace exchanges a glance with Theo, who shifts in his seat like he’s weighing his next words. Gray leans back, his arms crossing over his chest as he studies me with an intensity that makes me want to squirm.

Rhett’s voice cuts through the silence. “Bree, you don’t have to tell us everything. But don’t expect us to believe ‘nothing.’”

The words hang in the air, heavy and pointed. My throat tightens, and I look down at my plate, avoiding their gazes.

“It’s not a big deal,” I say finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “Just someone I used to know. An old... friend.”

“Friend,” Jace repeats, his tone laced with skepticism. “And this ‘friend’ made your day ‘fine.’”

“Jace,” Theo warns, his tone a soft reprimand, though his sharp gaze doesn’t leave me.

But I can feel their worry, their frustration, pressing in around me. They want answers, wantto help, and it’s tearing me apart that I can’t let them. That I can’t let myself.

Jason’s voice echoes in my mind, sharp and condescending:You’re just like Phil said. You’re not happy unless someone’s got you pinned to the wall.

My stomach churns, and I grip the edge of the table tighter, focusing on the wood grain beneath my fingertips.They don’t know that. They don’t know everything.

“It’s not worth talking about,” I say, forcing my voice to steady. “Can we just... not do this right now?”

The silence that follows feels suffocating. Rhett exchanges a glance with Theo, who looks like he wants to press further but stays quiet. Jace leans back in his chair, his lips twitching like he’s biting back a dozen questions. And Gray just watches, his arms crossed and his sharp green eyes cutting through me like he’s trying to dismantle every wall I’m clinging to.

“It’s not nothing,” Rhett says finally, his voice low. There’s no anger, just a quiet conviction that makes my throat tighten. “But okay. For now.”

The weight in his words is palpable.For now.A temporary truce. A promise that this conversation isn’t over.

Jace exhales sharply, breaking the tension. “You’re lucky I make amazing pancakes,” he mutters, but the humor feels forced, his blue eyes still shadowed as he looks at me.

I pick up my fork, though the thought of eating makes my stomach twist. Across the table, Theo shifts in his chair, watching me with the kind of quiet intensity that’s impossible to ignore. The analytical part of my brain knows he’s cataloging every detail—my posture, my tone, the way my hands tremble when I think no one’s looking.