Page 49 of Oathbreaker

Why is this so hard?

Why does it feel impossible?

Atlas reaches over, and at first, I think he’s just taking my hands.

Then I realize he’s gently opening them, unclenching my fists, spreading my fingers, stopping me from digging my nails into my palms.

Something I hadn’t even realized I was doing.

“I’m listening, Briar,” he says and finally there’s no edge to his words now.

They’re just…Atlas. Just my big brother who’s always had my back.

I nod, acknowledging that. “Thank you.” And with his deep brown eyes on mine, I find with him next to me and Royal close and not annoyed that I can push through the storm cloud that is Dash…

And the rest of the words come a little easier.

“The truth is that Colt is Frankie’s father.”

Atlas’s hands tighten around mine.

Royal curses softly under his breath and sits back.

Dash…well, when I look up at my brother, he’s still. Beyond still. So fucking still he could be a statue.

Until he explodes into motion.

“Fuck!” he shouts, bursting out of his chair.

He doesn’t storm out of the Sapphire Room, doesn’t leave.

Instead, he picks up the chair he was sitting in and launches it—launches it—across the room.

It explodes, pieces of wood and splinters flying in all directions.

Thankfully, no one was standing where he threw it, but that’s all I have to be thankful for because a heartbeat later, he’s grabbed my arms and yanked me to my feet, both of his big hands coming to my shoulders.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he growls. “Are you?—?”

“Don’t,” Atlas says, stepping between us, and my heart skips a beat when Royal tucks me close to him. “You don’t ever put your hands on a woman in anger.”

“She—”

“I know what she fucking said,” he grits out then says, “but still fucking never.”

Dash inhales, exhales. Then nods tersely at Atlas before his eyes come to mine.

They’re still angry, but now that anger is banked.

“I’m sorry, Thorny,” he murmurs.

I slip out of Royal’s hold, move over to him. “I know,” I whisper. “I should have told you.”

“Yes, you should have,” Royal says.

Turning toward him, I open my mouth, to say what, I’m not even sure at this point—because what else is there to say? But before I can get that far, another voice joins the conversation.

“This isn’t on Briar,” Colt says, stepping out of the shadows.