Page 1 of Galen

Chapter One

Tangled vines clung to twisted trees of the overgrown garden of the Arrow estate, and shadows danced along the uneven cobblestone path.

The garden had always had an eerie ambiance, but to Galen, it was a sanctuary. A place where everything was muffled, including the screams and desperate pleas coming from the big house.

He never told anyone how much he liked it here, not even his brothers. The garden’s haunted feel didn’t bother him—it suited him. It felt like the one place that understood him, even if it was nothing more than a twisted mass of neglected greenery. Devlin had taken him aside after their usual Friday dinner, and now Galen understood why the women hadn’t been invited tonight.

The three of them stood in the garden, the night’s chill seeping into their bones as they spoke. Galen took a swig of his beer, the cold liquid sliding down his throat as he tried to ignore the growing tension in his chest.

“Do you know why I’m entrusting this difficult job to you, brother?” Devlin’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and precise.

Galen finished his beer and handed the empty can to Carver, who wordlessly passed him another.

It was almost like old times—just the three of them against the monster who had raised them. But Galen knew that was just nostalgia, a bitter remnant of the past that refused to let go.

“I don’t consider this job difficult at all,” Galen replied, cracking open the new can and taking a long sip.

Carver, always the quiet one, watched the two of them for a moment.

“I can do this job as well,” Carver volunteered.

Galen chuckled.“No offense, baby brother. You’re good with knives and taking answers, but leave this to me,” he said.

He knew exactly why Devlin had assigned this task to him. It wasn’t just about getting the job done. It was a test, a way to gauge whether Galen was still the man he claimed to be.

Did Devlin think he was wavering? Was his brother expecting him to falter, to hesitate when it came time to pull the trigger? The very thought sent a surge of anger coiling inside his gut. Hadn’t he proven himself time and time again? He’d bled for this family, stood by his brothers through every trial, every battle.

He’d taken on the dirtiest jobs without complaint, making sure their enemies knew the Arrows were not to be trifled with. Yet here he was, being tested as if his loyalty was still in question. It was infuriating, insulting even. How many more times would he have to prove his worth, to show he was just as committed to the organization, to their legacy, as Devlin and Carver?

The anger simmered just beneath the surface. He would show Devlin, show them all, that he was still the same man who had carved a path for their family through blood and fire.

There would be no excuses, no hesitation. The traitor would pay for his betrayal, and Galen would be the one to deliver the judgment.

Devlin nodded, his expression unreadable in the dim light. “Then there’s nothing more to discuss,” Devlin said, sounding satisfied.

Galen was about to turn away, assuming their conversation was over, but Devlin wasn’t finished. Devlin’s next words struck like a blade.

“You never got back to me regarding the marriage arrangement between you and Gustav Romanov’s youngest daughter,” Devlin said, his tone measured, but with an undercurrent of insistence Galen knew all too well.

Galen couldn’t suppress the groan that escaped him, a deep, frustrated sound that echoed his thoughts. The last thing he wanted to discuss was marriage, especially to someone he had never met, someone whose only significance was tied to the strategic advantages she could offer the family.

He was in no mood for this kind of talk, not now, not ever. This was Devlin’s way—always planning, always thinking about the future, about alliances, power, and the Family’s position. But to Galen, the idea of being tied down, of sacrificing his freedom for the sake of an alliance, was suffocating. The mere thought of it made his skin crawl.

It wasn’t just the timing that grated on him, though that certainly didn’t help. It was the very notion of being pushed into something so personal, so life-altering, for the sake of business. He had spent his life proving himself, carving out his place in the family through his actions, his loyalty, his skill with a gun—not through some arranged marriage that felt more like a prison sentence than a partnership.

“Devlin,” Galen began, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice.“I’ve told you before—I’m not interested.”

But as he spoke, he knew his brother wouldn’t let this go easily. Devlin was persistent, relentless when he thought something was for the good of the family. Galen could see it in his eyes—the calculation, the expectation that Galen would eventually fall in line, that he would do what was expected of him.

But that wasn’t who Galen was. He wasn’t the brother who followed orders without question, who sacrificed his own desires for the sake of the greater good. He was the one who forged his own path, who did what needed to be done on his own terms.

And no matter how many times Devlin brought up this marriage arrangement, no matter how beneficial it might seem, Galen knew one thing for certain: he wasn’t about to let anyone else dictate his life, not even his own brother.

“No, you declined the match with Natalia Petrovic,” Devlin corrected him.“Both are good matches.”

“I’m not interested in finding a wife at the moment. How many times do I have to tell you this, Dev?” Galen snapped, his patience thinning.

“You have an obligation to the family,” Devlin reminded him.

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