The Forbidden Heiress At The All Male Alpha Academy

Chapter 231: I Never Abandoned You

They fought until the sky brightened further, and until the path was scarred beyond recognition.

Zeke’s movements were brutal and relentless, driven by rage sharpened by grief that had never been allowed to heal. Every strike carried years of resentment, and every blow was a question he had never dared to ask.

Zevon met him without hatred, parrying his strikes and accepting some of it. That alone infuriated Zeke more.

Shadows wrapped around Zeke’s arm as he swung, attempting to bind him, but Zeke tore through them with raw force, his demon-fueled strength ripping darkness apart like cloth.

"You think this changes anything?" Zeke shouted, "You standing here alive does not undo what you did."

Zevon blocked a strike and stepped back, "I know."

That stopped Zeke again. His breathing was heavy now, chest rising and falling fast while steam curled faintly from his skin. His body hummed with power, with readiness, but his mind faltered.

"You do not get to act like this is nothing," Zeke snapped, "I mourned you. I watched him kill you. I spent years believing you chose yourself over me!"

Zevon’s jaw tightened, and his eyes softened, "I chose someone else," he said quietly.

Zeke’s eyes narrowed, "Who?"

Zevon hesitated for a second, and Zeke saw it all.

He exploded forward, slamming Zevon into the ground again. He pinned him with one knee and a hand wrapped around his throat, "Say it," Zeke demanded. "Say who was worth leaving me behind!!"

Zevon did not struggle, or fight against the hold. He simply met Zeke’s gaze, but "I was helping Charlene escape," he said.

The name hit like a wound reopened, and Zeke’s grip loosened without him realising. His knee slid back from Zevon’s chest, and he almost fell back altogether.

Charlene.

The one who took care of him.

The one who had tried to protect him when Cain decided it was time for him to begin.

The one Cain had torn her face open with his claws, and Zeke could only cry as he was dragged away from her crumbled, unmoving body.

Charlene had died that day. He had never seen her again.

"You’re lying," he said again, but the words had lost their bite.

Zevon rose slowly. He stood where he was with the shadows quiet around him, as though even they understood this was not a moment for force.

"She wasn’t dead, Zeke. I dragged her through the lower tunnels," Zevon said, "The ones beneath the eastern cliffs. Cain never used them because the ground was unstable. I thought I had time,"

Zeke’s jaw clenched, and his hands shook openly now, "You didn’t," Zeke whispered.

"No," Zevon replied. "I didn’t,"

The memory rose unbidden. Zeke remembered how he had crawled into one of the tunnels the night everything happened and realised Zevon had been caught and surrounded. The way Zevon had been thrown back, bleeding and furious.

Cain had killed him, and his body had been left there.

Zeke was heartbroken. He had mourned his brother for a while before he decided to join him in death, because he couldn’t live in a world without his brother or Charlene.

But Eric had seen him escape and ratted him out to their father.

Zeke never had the chance.

And Zevon had not been running toward freedom, he had been running toward sacrifice.

Zeke’s breath broke, and he staggered back again. It was sharp and humiliating and far too loud in the quiet of the path. He turned his head sharply, staring out into the trees, refusing to let Zevon see his face.

"I hated you," he said. "I hated you so much it was the only thing that kept me breathing some days,"

Zevon did not move.

"I thought you chose yourself," Zeke continued, his voice rough, "I thought you left me with him because I wasn’t enough,"

Something in Zevon finally cracked. He took a step forward, and then another cautiously like he was approaching a wounded animal, "I would have died ten times over before leaving you behind," He said behind Zeke, "I just didn’t get the chance to explain."

Zeke’s shoulders trembled, and for a moment, he said nothing.

Then his hands curled into fists and he let out a wet, broken and ugly laughter. He scrubbed a hand hard over his face, swiping at something he would deny later, "Fuck," he muttered. "This is so stupid."

Zevon didn’t say anything yet.

"I’m not forgiving you," Zeke added immediately, lifting his head. His eyes were red with fury, "Don’t get that twisted."

Zevon almost smiled, "Of course not," he said. "You never do anything the easy way."

Zeke scoffed, "You died."

"I noticed."

That earned a short, huffed laugh from Zeke before he could stop himself. He turned sharply, glaring as if daring Zevon to comment on it.

"Don’t," he warned.

Zevon lifted both hands slightly, "Wouldn’t dream of it."

Silence settled again, but it was different now. The tension in the air, for the first time since Zeke had set his eyes on Sylas, was less poisonous and toxic.

Zeke exhaled slowly, grounding himself. The demon inside him stirred, restless but no longer enraged.

"You should have told me," Zeke said again, quieter this time.

"I know," Zevon replied.

Zeke glanced at him from the corner of his eye, "If I’d known... I wouldn’t have spent years wanting to kill you."

Zevon met his gaze steadily, "You still tried."

Zeke snorted, "Habit."

They stood there, as brothers shaped by death and fire and choices neither had been allowed to make freely.

Then Zeke’s expression darkened again, but this time it was tangled complication, "And Hellcat...," he said.

Zevon stiffened slightly, but he did not retreat, "Yes?"

Zeke looked away, "I hated you for that too,"

"I know,"

"Is that all you have to say?"

"Don’t expect me to say that I’ll give her up because that’s never gonna happen,"

Zeke glared a bit, before he let out a long and tired sigh, "She did choose you,"

"She chose us," Zevon corrected gently.

That should have reignited everything. It didn’t.

Zeke rolled his shoulders, shaking off the last of the tension, "I still don’t like it."

"I wouldn’t trust you if you did."

Zeke glanced at him again, his eyes sharp but no longer hostile, "I’m not going to fight you over her."

Zevon’s brows lifted slightly in question.

Zeke scowled, looking away, "Don’t look so shocked. I’m not saying I’m happy about it!"

"What are you saying then?"

Zeke shrugged, "Whatever."

Another beat of silence.

"She’s my mate," Zeke added, just to be clear, "And she’s yours. I’m not pretending that’s easy."

"I wouldn’t ask you to."

Zeke nodded once. Then turned fully toward him with another scowl, "You die on me again," Zeke said flatly, "I will actually kill you."

Zevon smiled this time, "Fair."