Page 115 of Awakened

A few seconds later, Vae falls next to me with a groan. He rolls to his side, gasping for breath and holding his hands against his stomach.

I roll my head to the side, and my eyes widen as Caelan stalks toward Gav. No fucking way is he⁠—

Gav stands.

Holy. Shit.

Hands clasped behind his back, Gav inclines his head stoically, giving Caelan permission I’m not sure he would have asked for regardless.

Caelan clocks him right in the face, splitting the skin along his cheekbone. Silas is next, and he follows Gav’s lead, standing and clasping his hands behind his back.

“You should punch me more than once,” Silas tells him morosely.

“Explain.”

“We decided to Alpha⁠—”

“I decided,” Gav interrupts, talking over Silas. “It was ultimately my decision.”

Silas swallows thickly. “Three questions. It was obvious after the second question she couldn’t handle a third. Gav was about to issue the order to stop. But I—” His voice breaks, and he lifts his head, looking at Idril.

She’s standing in front of Soren, eyes wide as saucers, hands covering her mouth in disbelief.

“Don’t look at her,” Caelan snaps. “Look at me.” He waits for Silas to meet his eyes before demanding, “Tell me what you did.”

“I believed Daxen. Believed she set you up. Believed she was lying about being your Mate. Believed she was working with her father. I didn’t ask questions. I didn’t think for myself.”

Silas blinks, and tears fall from his lashes—something I never thought I’d see from the normally indolent Alpha.

“I deserve whatever punishment is coming to me.” he raises his head, his face a mask of misery. “I’m sorry.”

Caelan’s left hand lands on his shoulder to hold him in place, and his right hand curls into a fist. He punches him.

Then he does it again.

And a third time.

The third time, Caelan releases him, and he, too, falls to the ground. Caelan bends over, fists the front of his shirt, and yanks him to his feet.

He shoves Silas forward and points a shaking finger at his Mate. “You don’t apologize to me. You apologize to her.”

Silas swallows thickly, a bruise forming on the side of his face as he looks up and meets Idril’s eyes.

“I’m sorry.” For the first time I can remember, he sounds truly sincere. “I fucked up. I hurt you. I let others hurt you and egged them on. I watched you suffer, watched you starve, kept food from you, made your life hell, and was a complete asshole. I don’t expect forgiveness, but I need you to know… I’ve never hated myself more than I have these last few weeks. And I am so, so sorry.”

Idril doesn’t speak. Soren’s fingers curl, wrapping around her neck from behind. His hand is so large it swallows the entire delicate length.

“Uhm, I—” Her voice is small. Unsure. Like she’s fighting some kind of instinct and doesn't know which way to bend. Caelan crosses the room and crouches in front of her. He takes her face in his hands, swiping his fingers under her eyes to stop her tears before they can fall.

It’s an oddly familiar movement, like he’s done it a hundred times before.

“You don’t have to accept his apology unless you want to. You don’t owe anyone your forgiveness when they hurt you. Not Silas. Not your father. Not my Pack, or anyone else.”

He reaches out, tucking a loose strand of hair away from her face. The way he touches her makes me want to look away. Like I’m watching something intimate. Something I don’t deserve to see.

“Sometimes, apologies aren’t enough. Sometimes, no matter the intention, they’re just words. And you don’t have to carry their weight. You don’t owe anyone absolution because you think it’s expected of you. Their guilt is their own. If you choose to forgive them—now, in the future, or never—that’s your gift to give or to withhold.”

She nods, exhaling a deep breath. Caelan stands, coming face to face with the wolven heir. He reaches out, extending a hand which Soren accepts without hesitation. Their palms meet above Idril’s head like they’ve struck some kind of solemn agreement.