Leah's POV
The basement door loomed ahead of me, a slab of chipped wood that creaked under the weight of its own decay. I trudged toward it, boots scuffing the concrete, when Leo's voice hit me like a fist through the wall. "I want to divide the spicy sauce! I said I want to divide the spicy sauce! Why didn't you divide the spicy sauce for me?!" His roar was feral, unhinged, rattling my skull as I paused, hand hovering over the rusted knob.
I rubbed my forehead, fingers digging into the skin hard enough to leave marks. Why does it seem like every mentally ill bastard has such strict requirements for Chinese food? I thought, bitterness curling my lips. It's just fucking Chinese food, for Christ's sake - not some sacred ritual. But Leo, with his wild eyes and fractured mind, turned everything into a battlefield.
I shoved the door open and stepped inside, the hinges groaning like a dying animal. The basement stretched out before me, a cold, sterile mockery of a laboratory - fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, casting jagged shadows across the concrete. A pack of paramedics bolted past me, their faces pale as death, eyes darting like prey caught in a trap. One of them grabbed my arm, his voice trembling. "We've stabilized the patient's condition. But are you sure you want to put him with that crazy-eyed man?"
I stared into his panicked gaze, then clapped a hand on his shoulder, firm but hollow. "You can leave now," I said, my voice low, edged with something sharp. He flinched, and they all scattered, fleeing up the stairs like rats abandoning a sinking ship. Lucky bastards, I thought, watching their backs vanish into the dark. Envy gnawed at me, bitter and cold, but I swallowed it down and turned to face the chaos they'd left behind.
Leo stood in the center of the room, towering over a table strewn with takeout containers, his massive frame vibrating with rage. He snarled at the food—greasy noodles and sauce-smeared cartons - like it had insulted his bloodline. Across the room, Cole lay strapped to a hospital bed, motionless, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. The air stank of antiseptic and sweat, thick enough to choke on.
I reached into my pocket, fingers brushing the smooth edges of the holographic projector Seth had thrust into my hands. It seems everything can only rely on you now, I thought, doubt clawing at me as I pulled it out. A small, stupid box - how the hell was this supposed to fix anything? My thumb hovered over the switch, hesitation prickling my scarred skin, but I pressed it anyway, half-believing it'd fizzle out and leave me stranded.
A shimmer of light flared, and Gean's projection materialized beside Leo, solidifying into a figure so real it stole the breath from my lungs. He glanced around, calm as a still pond, and spoke, his voice a perfect echo of the man I'd once known. "Oh, no. They didn't divide the hot sauce for you. That is really bad."
I froze, stunned. The tone, the cadence, the way his lips curved around the words—it was Gean, down to the marrow. Leo didn't even blink, just turned to the projection like it was the most natural thing in the world. "You know I hate eating fried noodles and spicy sauce without packaging! How can I eat it now?!" he snapped, his voice raw, petulant.
Gean's hologram tilted its head, patient, almost tender. "The braised prawns look good. Do you want to eat that first? I don't want to see you go hungry."
Leo's face twisted, a child's grievance in a warrior's body. "But I don't know how to peel shrimp!"
The projection's gaze slid to me, piercing through the dim light. "You are Leo's sister. Can you help him do it?"
I blinked, a laugh bubbling up in my throat - harsh, disbelieving. Okay, this is the first time I've been ordered around by a fucking hologram, I thought, but I stepped forward anyway, boots scraping the floor. My hands moved to the table, snatching a shrimp from the pile, its slick shell cold against my fingers. I peeled it slow, deliberate, feeling Leo's eyes bore into me, tracking every twitch of my scarred hands. His breathing steadied, the wild edge softening as I worked.
When I finished, I held the shrimp out, and he snatched it, shoving it into his mouth like a starving beast. He chewed hard, then grabbed a fistful of fried rice, cramming it in after, the spicy sauce spat forgotten. I arched a brow, leaning against the table. "I don't know why you don't just swallow these shrimp with the skin. After all, you swallowed a frog raw when you were a kid."
Leo paused mid-bite, a flicker of a smile tugging at his lips. "Do you still remember that?"
"Of course I remember," I said, peeling another shrimp, my voice rough but steady. "We used to play together back then. We were close - before everything went to shit."
His smile faded, eyes darkening. "But ever since someone tried to assassinate Lucian and you went to defend him, we've been estranged."
The memory slammed into me, sharp as a blade. Lucian dragging me through the woods, the hunt turning sour when shadows lunged from the trees. I'd thrown myself in front of him, a kid with no healing, no sense, just dumb loyalty. The knife had bitten deep, carving a jagged line across my ribs - a scar I still carried, a map of that day etched into my flesh. I shook my head, focusing on the shrimp, the wet snap of its shell under my nails. "It's not the assassination that pulled us apart," I muttered. "It's because we grew up."
Silence fell, heavy and suffocating, the weight of years pressing down on us. Gean's projection broke it, voice soft. "Is the shrimp delicious?"
Leo nodded, mouth full. "Yeah, it is."
"It's because Leah peeled it for you," Gean said, warm, certain. "That's why it tastes good."
Leo grunted, nodding again, and I watched him, my chest tight. How the fuck did Seth - cold, indifferent Seth, who wouldn't know a feeling if it clawed his face off - build something so alive? This thing, this projection, wove through Leo's madness with a few quiet words, stitching up wounds I couldn't touch. I kept peeling, the rhythm grounding me as my thoughts churned.
"Leo," I said, voice low, "I never wanted to be a Lycan. My love's not some grand, world-saving thing - I can't spread it thin like that. I just want my own, something real, something mine."