At her question, Aunt Lavinia slowly fell silent. Her fingers tightened briefly before she drew her hands back, lips pressed together as she forced herself to step aside. This wasn’t her place to answer.

The relief of having Ashley back still lingered in her chest, but the rest... the truth about what had happened, about where their mother had gone, that belonged to the brothers to answer. And so she lowered her gaze, leaving everything to them.

The moment the question settled, all five brothers went still. Whatever warmth had surfaced earlier vanished, replaced by something far colder and murderous. Their expressions hardened, and a quiet, suffocating pressure bled from them.

It was subtle, but unmistakable. Even Ashley could feel it. The hatred was controlled, but sharp enough to cut through the air.

Her mind reacted instantly, scrambling to fill the silence. Possibilities flashed one after another, her thoughts racing ahead of reason.

Had their father betrayed their mother? Was that why she had run? With the way they carried themselves, their wealth and influence so obvious, it wasn’t hard to imagine enemies, power struggles, someone forcing her mother into hiding.

Maybe she had been chased, cornered, driven to the edge of the world until the only place left to disappear was among werewolves.

But even as the theories formed, they felt... excessive. Too extreme for something as simple as infidelity, unless it wasn’t simple at all. Unless the woman involved had power of her own, enough to bend authority, to hunt someone without consequence.

The thoughts spiraled until they were cut cleanly short.

Apollo spoke.

"Our father... died almost two decades ago."

Apollo’s voice was steady, but the weight behind it settled heavily in the room. As he spoke, the five brothers moved closer, taking the nearby chairs or the edge of the bed itself, closing the distance as if preparing for a long story, something that couldn’t be told in fragments.

This wasn’t just an answer. It was the beginning of a truth they had carried for years.

Ashley’s lips trembled slightly, the shock clear in her eyes, as if she wanted to interrupt, to ask, but she stopped herself. Her teeth pressed lightly into her lower lip instead, holding back, allowing him to continue.

"Back then," Apollo went on, his gaze distant for a moment, "our parents were living well. Happily." A faint, almost imperceptible softness touched his tone. "When we learned that Mother was pregnant with a girl... we were overjoyed. We thought that our family was complete. That everything we had would only continue... especially when you were born."

The softness didn’t last.

"At that time, we had everything, wealth, power, influence... even striking features that drew attention. And we were too blind to see the cost of it." His expression hardened, and coldness appeared on his face. "The brighter the light, the darker the shadows it casts."

His eyes sharpened.

"People grew jealous. Not just one or two, but many. Enough to come together and to plan against our family." His voice lowered, edged with restrained danger. "They wanted what we had. They believed it was better divided among them than left in the hands of one family."

A brief pause followed as Apollo’s gaze darkened slightly, a glint passing through his eyes, as those distant memories were something he vividly remembered. He had been old enough back then. Old enough to see it. To understand what was happening.

"And so... they acted."

It was why Apollo carried the deepest hatred among them.

"And more than that," he continued, his voice tightening, "Father discovered that the one leading those vultures... was someone he had trusted. A man who called himself his friend, who stayed close to him all those years... because he had his eyes on our mother."

The words came out colder now, anger barely contained.

"No matter how much Father prepared, with the little time he had, it wasn’t enough. We were surrounded and attacked from all sides." His jaw clenched, the memory clearly etched into him. "In the end, he chose to stay behind. He held the line... fought them all, just to buy us time."

A brief silence followed, heavy with what that choice had cost.

"We didn’t escape together," Apollo went on, more quietly now, though the tension never left his voice. "Each of us was taken in a different direction. Guards and servants were assigned to every one of us to ensure we got out." His gaze flicked toward Ashley, something complicated passing through his eyes. "Mother carried you herself."

His expression hardened again.

"We couldn’t move as a single group. It would’ve been too easy for those bastards to corner us and wipe us out in one sweep. So we split and scattered in every direction." A pause. "Mother took the largest group with her. Most of the guards... most of the servants. They stayed with her."

"And because that so-called friend lusted after our mother," Apollo continued, his voice dropping into sharp coldness, it felt like the air around them dropped several degrees, "he focused everything on capturing her." His gaze darkened. "Mother knew that the moment she was caught... you wouldn’t be spared. So she ran. She ran with everything she had."

A faint breath left him, but there was no relief in it.

"But where could we go?" he went on. "Too many people wanted our entire family erased. They didn’t just want our wealth, they wanted to make sure no one survived to remember what they’d done... or come back for revenge." His tone hardened further. "They had numbers. They had power. And they hunted us like prey."

The memory seemed to tighten around him.

"One by one, our guards fell. The best we had, those men who had served our family for years, died buying us time, carving out paths for us to escape." His jaw clenched. "And when the guards were gone... the servants followed. They didn’t run. They stayed, fought, and died protecting us."

His eyes flickered briefly toward Aunt Lavinia.

"Her father stayed behind with ours... to hold the line." A short pause. "She was sent with me. I was meant to become the next head of the family, so she was tasked to ensure I lived."

The room fell quieter.

"By the time we grew up... almost none of them were left," Apollo said, his voice lower, tinged with sorrow and pain. "Only us. And Aunt Lavinia."

He straightened slightly, composure returning, though the edge in his tone remained.

"But Father had prepared for this." A faint, restrained pride surfaced beneath the grief. "Those people thought they could strip us of everything we had. But what they took... was nothing more than surface wealth. The real foundation of our family, our assets, our influence, our authority, had already been hidden."

His gaze sharpened.

"Before he sent us away, Father told me where everything was. The family seal. The core assets. He scattered them across the country. So, even if one was discovered, dozens more would remain untouched."

A brief pause.

"So in the end..." his voice turned colder, almost cutting, "they destroyed themselves chasing something they could never truly possess."