Page 22 of His Forsaken Alpha

Wynter cringed. It was then that he realized what he’d said. In a moment of mental exhaustion, ugly things had dripped from his lips, things no one should ever had heard—least of all, Vaughn. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Of course you did,” Vaughn spat.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry, Vaughn. Iloveyou.”

Vaughn disregarded him, clearly wanting an answer for something else. “Why does the only child you truly wanted look exactly like that inconsequential man, Papa?”

Wynter feigned ignorance. “What? You’re being ridiculous. Wilder looks likeme.”

“Don’t,”Vaughn warned, barely contained rage in his eyes. “I’m not stupid. Nor blind.”

Wynter whipped off his sunglasses and captured his son’s gaze with a glare, hoping it was sufficiently menacing. He refused to allow Vaughn to coerce the information from him before he was ready. He’d survived one crafty alpha. He wasn’t in the mood to suffer another. Wynter would tell them both the truth, but Wilder deserved to hear the story first.“Warden Jaymesis Wilder’s father, if that’s what you’re implying. It says so on his birth certificate.”

Vaughn scoffed, crossing both arms over his broad chest. “Is there a DNA test to accompany that? Perhaps I should demand one, especially given the fact Wilder took overmyfather’s company.”

Wynter scowled at Vaughn. “Wilder is a Jaymes, through and through. He has every right to run the family business, through his hard workandhis genetics.”

“Forgive me if I desire proof of that,” Vaughn said before he slipped out of the backseat and slammed the door behind him.

The sound caused Wynter to startle. He glanced around the darkened interior, the partition thankfully closing him off from the driver on the other side.

All alone.

All his life, he’d longed to be left alone. When he finally got his wish, he could scarcely breathe. He’d lost his mate. Both of them, if truth be told. He’d lost his eldest son. His middle son, the light of his life, was likely furious and might never forgive him once he learned the truth.

And Vaughn…

Well, Vaughn was a wounded animal, one he needed to keep an eye on, though he wasn’t sure how capable he’d be at that job.

Wynter had no one to turn to. He glanced out the window a moment, searching for any sign of Cavanaugh.

Why did I send him away again? I need him. More now than ever.

All he found was Wilder stalking angrily across the cemetery toward a red sportscar, clearly shocked by what had just transpired. Wynter knew he should go, answer the questions his son had, but he wasn’t sure he had the emotional fortitude in that moment, not to do it properly.

How much he looks like his father…

I should’ve told him long ago.

He deserved the truth.

Tears erupted. Wynter sobbed, his entire body shaking from the force of them. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and held on. There was no one else that would. He’d pushed them all away, lost to his own anger and pain, unable to rise above and move past. He reached for his tote, tossing out items until he found the pill bottle at the bottom. He’d already taken two pills, but given his emotional state, he needed more.

He swallowed one dry, forcing it down his throat. When the tears slowed, he wiped his face and lowered the divider between himself and his driver. “Call the house. Have a bag packed for me. Stop in, pick it up, and then take me to the Plaza.”

“Afterthe reception, sir?”

“No. I won’t be going inside. Let the staff know they can send everyone home.”

“Yes, sir.”

Wynter closed the partition and sank into the leather seat, steeling his emotions. The desire to run farther than the Plaza Hotel wrapped him in its grip. Run away from it all, and never look back. He and Warden hadn’t completed half of the travel they’d planned—though what they had experienced had been a disaster.

He chuckled to himself. As if he could travel alone across the globe as an omega.

Once again, he would be imprisoned, one way or another.

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