Page 138 of His Forsaken Alpha

“My dad just died of a massive heart attack,” Wilder said, frowning. “Don’t do that.”

Cav glanced down at his hand and immediately dropped it. He hated Warden being called dad, but it’s all Wilder had known and he couldn’t expect less in a matter of days. When Wynter had slipped on his way to the kitchen, it had brought a little joy to Cav’s day, but then he’d seen Wilder struggling with it. “Sorry, just a little heartburn,” he fibbed, his gaze once again drawn to Wynter.

Wynter’s gaze flicked to his, a soft smile there, before turning back to Emory.

“I never thought I’d see the day,” Wilder murmured.

“Hmm?”

Wilder crossed his arms over his chest and rested back against the counter. “My papa cuddling with my little one. He just never seemed very paternal to me… I was too young to really remember him with Vaughn at that age, so…” Wilder shrugged. “It’s like I’m seeing another side to him.”

“The weight of what he’s carried around all those years has been lifted. Maybe not all of it, but enough to let the real him shine through a little,” Cav said. “This is the man I remember that week in the cabin. Happy. Carefree.” Cav grinned to himself.“Beautiful.”

“Do you believe his story?” Wilder asked, his voice lower.

“I do.” Cav cast a look to the side. “You don’t?”

“I wasn’t completely sure, but after hearing his brother on the phone, I’m starting to.”

“That’s why you’ve scheduled this helicopter to Blacksburg so quickly. Trust, but verify?”

Wilder nodded. “Clearly, Papa had suffered something—but to the extremes he claimed?” Wilder shrugged. “I wasn’t sure. The mind has ways of stretching and warping memories with time and distance, and I wanted to make sure he wasn’t misremembering. If he was misremembering that, perhaps he wasn’t clear on all the things with my dad, either.”

“You want Warden to be a better man than Wynter’s making him out to be?”

“I know neither of them are perfect. Warden definitely wasn’t, but he provided for us. He sent me to university. He taught me everything I know about business. Sure, there were moments he pissed me off and times he could be a bit callous, but I never saw that cruel side of him Papa’s spoken of. His version and mine don’t align—and I want to know for certain that the things he did are accurate before I lose all faith in the man he was,” Wilder said. “But then some of Arthur’s comments had me reeling. My grandpapa broke his seven-year-old alpha’s arm for trying to protect Papa—from him. So, that story seems to be accurate… I guess that means the rest might be, too.”

“Your brother already confirmed Warden kept Wynter from Jamie. That in itself seems to prove it to me,” Cav said.

“Vaughn,” Wilder chuckled mirthlessly. “Vaughn is a papa’s boy. Always has been. He’d do just about anything to get Papa’s love and attention, so I always take what he says with a grain of salt.”

“Ah,” Cav said.

“I felt the same as you did after hearing your papa’s story, too. It was too easy. It let him off the hook for a lot,” Cav murmured. “But then I went through the file of research I’ve collected over the years. I’ve always wanted to know what happened at thecabin but kept hitting wall after wall. All I can say is, between what I know and what I’ve been able to dig up—nothing he says contradictsanyof it.” Cav held his son’s gaze. “And watching him tell you all the same story he told me, it rang true. At least, it did for me.”

“Even so…he lied to me my entire life. I’m not sure I can let him off the hook for that one.”

“To protect me,” Cav said. “Threat or no, I do believe he thought there was one. Especially now.”

“I meant to ask you yesterday. Before you came down, he mentioned you’d been shot in the head,” Wilder said.

“Grazed,”Cav corrected. “I still have the scar.”

Wilder’s eyes widened.

Cav reached up and brushed his fingers over, just as he’d done a million times before—whenever he thought of Wynter and their time together. “Right here, if you want to feel for yourself.”

Wilder blinked a few times before lifting a hand to where Cav’s was. He traced his fingers over the rough edge of skin before snatching his hand back as if he’d touched fire. “Did you see the body? The one that was supposed to be his.”

Cav nodded. “Same hair color. Same length. Same body size. Or at least, close enough to fool me. As burned as it was, I wouldn’t have been able to tell otherwise.”

“So he knew someone there was capable of a murder.”

Avery reappeared, yawning. “Why didn’t anyone wake me up? It’s been nearly two hours.”

“Emory was good,” Wilder said. “And you needed the sleep.”

“Not a peep?” Avery asked.

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