Page 136 of His Forsaken Alpha

Wynter clenched his jaw.

“He’s been diagnosed with Schizophrenia. He’s also got Dementia and had a stroke a few years ago, and it’s left him bedridden.”

“Memory problems. Isn’t that nice for them. They can both forget the terrible things they did to us,” Wynter muttered. “I hate that you now have to take care of them. It’s not right.”

“Well, I made a deal with them—not realizing it would get this bad in the end,” Arthur said. “My stupidity. I was handed the bank and ownership of the house, as long as I promised they could grow old here in the family home. No senior homes. So, we do it all here. Twenty-four-hour nurses and care for them both. Where I try to raise my boys the best I can in the midst of it all.”

“I’m sorry,”Wynter whispered.

“It’s not your fault. You protected me as long as you could.”

“And I’m sure you had to bear the brunt once I was gone,” Wynter said.

Arthur scoffed. “We survived. What about you? Are you okay?”

“Besides my eldest son, I just lost my mate. We had the funeral—yesterday?” He shook his head. “It’s been such chaos… feels much longer than that right now.”

“I’m sorry for your los—wait,didn’t you just say your alpha was coming with you?” Arthur asked.

“My matewasn’tmy alpha,” Wynter said. “My alphawillbe there with me. I can explain everything when I see you.”

Arthur was quiet a moment. “I look forward to meeting your alpha and your son when you arrive.” He sighed. “My gods, I have a million questions. I don’t even know where to begin.”

“It might be better to answer them when we’re all together,” Wynter said. “I’m sure you’ll all want to know what happened and I’d prefer to tell you all at once, if possible.”

“Okay,” Arthur said. “It’s getting late, and I should call everyone before they go to bed. I’ll do everything in my power to get them all here. I can send a car to the helipad, if you need.”

Wynter glanced at Wilder.

“That would be very kind of you, Arthur,” Wilder said. “We should arrive around nine-thirty at Helipad-35.”

“I’ll send someone to pick you up in the morning,” Arthur said. “I look forward to seeing you, Wynter. I really do.”

“I look forward to seeing you all,” Wynter said. Before the line went dead, Wynter yelled, “One last thing, Art?”

“What’s that?”

“Are we meetingthere?Inthathouse? I don’t know if I’m ready to face Papa and Daddy. I don’t know that I can after all they did,” Wynter said. “Maybe we can make plans for neutral territory? Considering how last minute this is, I don’t want to put you and your family out, either.”

Arthur didn’t reply immediately. “You’re not putting us out. You’re family. If it helps any, Papa can’t get out of bed on his own. I’ll tell Dad’s nurse to keep him upstairs. Will that be enough? If not, perhaps Anders can host.”

“As long as I know I won’t run into them, it’s fine,” Wynter said. “It’s late, and I feel bad enough springing this on you at this hour.”

“You’re my brother, Wynter. You’re not springing anything on me. I’m shocked, and my head is spinning, but hell… I can’t wait for you to get here so I know this isn’t a dream.”

Wynter smiled. “I can’t wait, either. I’ll see you soon.”

“See you tomorrow. Night, all,” Arthur said before hanging up.

Wynter hit the button and held the phone to Wilder. His son looked at him with an odd expression.

“What’s wrong?”

“Your papa beat you with a branch from an apple tree? And broke Arthur’s arm? How old were you?”

“I was nine. Arthur and Anders were seven.”

Wilder lowered into the seat beside Wynter. “And my other uncles are…?”

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