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This is all my fault.

My father warned me years ago to make Odile mine if I cared about her so damn much, and I failed. With that stupid fucking brand, I failed. It was supposed to tie her to me – to all of us – forever. But once we were discovered, we didn’t get the brand. We never went back and did it later on either, even once Odile was allowed to hang around with us again.

And so she’s just a scarred up girl bearing the brunt of our fucked up friendship.

She never once complained about it, but now The General is going after her, trying to stake a claim on something that’s mine. What he’s done to her makes me feel sick.

Which makes me realise that I did the same. That I’m no better than him. I repulse myself.

Resentment at my father’s poisoned suggestion burns through my veins. Why? Why did he encourage me to mark Odile in that way? Why is he always pulling the strings? I know that he’s a powerful man, a force to be reckoned with, but what could he possibly stand to gain by manipulating innocent friendships between children?

Zie’s lucky his father is still breathing, that there’s higher powers at play right now, otherwise I’d have already put a bullet between his eyes and disposed of the body. My father and his bigger plans be damned.

But I can’t be rash. Doing so would place not only Odi’s life in danger, but Zie and Kaiden’s too. I have to be smart and I have to play the long game. But first, I have to beg.

I hate to ask my father for favours – the cost is always too high – but I have to protect my family no matter what. Blood means shit to me. Peony, Zie and Kaiden are the only family I give a fuck about, and I’d happily lay down my life for theirs.

Can I sign myself over to a lifetime of servitude and debt, though? Death would be easier. But then who would protect them? Can I stand to live controlled forevermore by my father’s crazed and oppressive thumb?

I think of Peony’s fat tears, of her reluctance to speak out against Zie’s dad. My gut churns as I remember the bright red, angry burn on her arm.

I don’t have any other choice. I remove my phone from my pocket and hit speed dial. The call connects before it even has a chance to ring. It always freaks me out when it does that.

“Yes, son?”

“Dad? I need a favour…”