Drowning

There was a heavy pause, then his tone softened, the kind he only used when he was concerned. “You’re not okay. I can feel it.”

“Don’t you dare say that.”

“Lennox, we all know what happened was a mistake… Olivia knows that… I know that.”

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.

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.

But he didn’t push harder. He just stayed there in my head, steady, patient. A presence I couldn’t shake, even as the alcohol blurred my thoughts.

I pressed the heel of my hand against my face, trying to block him out. “I don’t… I don’t want to do this right now.” My voice cracked, betraying me.

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…

Silence stretched. My chest heaved, breath ragged, and I hated that he could feel it, hated that he knew.

“This won’t fix it,” he growled.

“I don’t care how angry you are, how guilty you feel, or how broken this all seems,” Louis pressed, his tone low but unrelenting. “You’re my brother. Our mate’s mate. You are not disposable, Lennox. You are not allowed to vanish just because it hurts.”

My lips trembled, tears gathering in my eyes. “You don’t understand—”

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.

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.

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.

The burn in my throat wasn’t from the whiskey anymore. It was from the words clawing their way out. My chest heaved, my vision blurred, and before I could stop myself, the truth tumbled out.

“I do.” His answer came fast, cutting me off. “More than you think. I’m on my way to you. You’re not alone in this, and you don’t get to decide the world’s better off without you. Not while I’m still breathing.”

A mind link from Louis.

“Lennox?” His voice rang through the link, calm but edged with unease.

“You don’t have to,” he said gently. “Just… don’t shut me out.”

I heard him exhale softly, not in judgment but in understanding. “She doesn’t believe that,” he said carefully. “She’s scared. Hurt. And so are you.”

Finally, my voice broke through the haze, low and raw. “She thinks I could hurt him, Louis… She thinks I could hurt Levi.”

My throat tightened. The bottle slipped from my hand, shattering on the floor, the sharp scent of whiskey rising with the sting in my eyes.

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.

Something in me flinched at the force of his words.

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.

I froze.

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.

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.

His voice came again, calm but iron–edged, the kind that could command a battlefield or break through the thickest fog. “Don’t you ever put that thought in your head again, Lennox. Not once. Not ever.”

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.

Lennox’s POV

Until it didn’t.

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.

That’s when it came.

My throat tightened. I wanted to argue, but the words failed me.

“Maybe…” My voice cracked, low and hoarse. “Maybe it’d be better if I just disappeared. If I was gone, if I—if I died… everyone would be happy. No fights, no hate. No competition.”

The silence that followed was suffocating. For a heartbeat, I thought Louis might let it pass. But his voice cut through the haze, sharper than I’d ever heard it.

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.

“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 squeezed my eyes shut, clutching the half–empty bottle in my hand. My voice was rough, slurred at the edges. “What do you want, Louis?”

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.

“Lennox.” Louis’s voice came again, calm but firm. “Talk to me.”

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.