BASTIAN’S POV
I’ve never enjoyed being right.
People assume I do. They look at what I can feel as an empath and they assume it must come with some kind of satisfaction when my read on a situation turns out to be correct. It doesn't. Being right, for me, usually means I felt the pain coming before it arrived and still couldn't stop it. That wasn’t a comfort. That was just a longer version of helplessness.
Standing outside that house, looking at my brothers' faces, I was right and I knew it and it felt like carrying something too heavy for one person.
Cassie laid unconscious. Her small body was barely moving under the blanket I had placed over her.
Casein paced back and forth in front of me. His jaw was clenched so hard I thought his teeth might c***k. Daren stood a little distance awa
