Page 36 of Capricorn
The connection shatters when Mr. Stone shoves through the crowd. “What’s the holdup?” He pins me with an indigo glare before turning to Pax. “This girl has been a problem since the day she arrived.”
I’m the lone female here, but I’m the problem? Every instinct in my bones tells me to fight, to hurl my own anger back at him, chin held high.
It’s what he deserves.
Before I’m able to launch a verbal attack, my father’s voice cuts through the standoff. “This should be handled in the council chamber.”
It’s not a suggestion.
The words land like a challenge, and Mr. Stone’s nostrils flare, his glare snapping to the other man. “Are you afraid she won’t survive a little discipline?”
“You don’t get to make this decision on your own.”
Silence.
I wait for Mr. Stone to argue, but he smashes his lips together. Five seconds ago, he was ready to rip into me, laying out every grievance in front of the Brotherhood, but now he’s swallowing his anger?
I’m not the only one who notices.
Landon studies our father too long, expression unreadable except for the slant of one brow, betraying a trace of doubt.
Why did Mr. Stone back down? It’s not his style.
“Astor’s right,” Mr. Castle interrupts. “We need to move this summons to the proper place.” He levels Pax with a disapproving look. “I’ll let you lead the way, since you’re so eager.”
The dungeon’s keeper strides ahead of the group as Oliver moves in beside me, one hand at the small of my back. He guides me down the narrow passageway, and the others fall in line behind us, their footsteps thudding against the rustic plank flooring.
A massive door looms ahead, carved from wood, its sheer size a testament to the power behind it. Pax swings it open on heavy hinges, and a hush descends on the group.
The windowless chamber is exactly as I remember, circular and somber, designed with judgment in mind. Mahogany-paneled walls enclose the space while a colossal zodiac mural sprawls across the ceiling, its celestial symbols casting an eerie stillness over all who enter.
The last time I was here, Liam lost his auction privileges. Now, I wonder what I stand to lose.
Oliver nudges me forward into the circular seating, and I sink into the space reserved for Capricorn, between him and his father. The legacy members settle next to their sons as Mr. Castle steps to the podium. He rests his hands on the polished wood, taking in the room.
“A vote is in order.”
No preamble or drawn-out discussion. Just those five words from Liam’s father.
And so it begins.
The House of Aries starts, and the verdict is unsurprisingly in my favor. Next, Mr. Castle gestures at the House of Taurus. One by one, each house heightens my anxiety with its ruling.
When it’s Mr. Stone’s turn, he doesn’t hesitate, delivering his decision in the Brotherhood’s customary format. “Yay. She absolutely needs behavior modification.”
No surprise there. He’s been waiting for this.
More votes come, some echoing his verdict, and others standing against it. By the time the tally reaches the House of Capricorn, the numbers are neck and neck.
The elder Whitney votes against me, but Oliver leans back, and his leg presses against mine under the table. His deliberate nudge grounds me—unseen by the others but impossible for me to ignore.
He lets out a quick exhale, and I almost miss the crack in his facade when he says, “Yay.”
Still, I’m frozen, rooted in place by disbelief. Did he really vote to have me punished? I’m too stunned to react, part of me refusing to accept it.
Pax Monroe is a monster.
And Oliver just fed me to him.
