Page 55 of Knocked Up By My Fated Alpha
In fact, one could say the only thing they all had in common was the fact that they’d died from blood loss resulting from the attacks on them rather than the attacks themselves. As I picked up the true crime podcaster’s folder to examine the victim’s details once more, some papers slipped out and mingled with the pack sentry reports on my desk.
As I picked up the papers, reports blending with sentry routes blending with victim profiles, I saw it. It took me several minutes to print out the maps I needed. My mind raced with the implications of my discovery.
One after the other, I marked the locations where the bodies had been found, which also happened to be the murder sites in all the cases. With all the locations marked, the detail that had seemed so elusive was clear to see. It was so clear that I wondered how I had failed to see it all this time.
Picking up the sentry report I’d put aside all those months ago, I summoned Sinclair to my office.
“Alpha?”
“Come, Sinclair,” I said, feeling lighter than I’d felt in days. I could prevent the war.
“We are going to visit an old friend.”
Alpha Mattand his sentries reached the border sooner than I’d anticipated. I straightened from my crouch to meet the indignant glare of Alpha Matt, who stood at the head of the group, his dominance charging the air between us.
“What on earth do you think you are doing on my territory?” he snarled.
I moved towards him, matching my dominance to his.
“At what point did you plan on informing me that the first of the murders was one of your sentries?”
It wasn’t until the maps were in front of me, until I’d seen the pattern in the wolf attacks, that the familiar but off-scent of the wolf finally made sense. The attacks followed a clear northwest trajectory—right from the borders between the Shadow Thorn Pack and Sky Pack.
And that familiar, not-so-familiar scent the wolf had? It was that of my pack and the Sky Pack interwoven with the bitter, damp scent of the oak trees that covered acres of the stretch of land between ourpacks, where a Sky Pack sentry died roughly two months before the human murders had started up.
The Sky Pack initially threw accusations at my pack for that death, but before I could make it to the borders to examine the body and resolve the issue, Alpha Matt took back the claim and had the area cleaned up without any explanation.
It’d all been strange, but stranger things had happened, so I’d let the incident slip from my mind, until today. At my query, Alpha Matt visibly stiffened, his lips twisting into a scowl.
“Have you forgotten the laws of trespass?” He growled in an obvious attempt at misdirection. “I could have your head for this!”
I nodded once.
“All those weeks you kept your men sniffing at my border, you were hunting the murderer.” I wasn’t asking a question. “And you let my pack take the blame for yours.”
“You are grasping at straws,” Alpha Matt said, his jaw clenched, his gaze dark and evasive.
“And you are still keeping secrets,” I took another step towards him, letting him see the steel in my gaze. “If I find out all these murders were your doing, the humans will be the least of your worries.”
Alpha Matt went completely still, and his next words were a hostile, rough rumble.
“Get off my property.”
I left. There was nothing else left to say.
Following the northeast trail, we’d already discovered the sixth human body and, for the first time, gotten a hold of the murderer’s fresh scent leading to a major storm drain network that explained how the murderer got around and how we kept losing his scent with all the water to obscure our sense of smell.
My best trackers were already on it. In hours, I’d have my hands on the murderer, and Goddess help Matthew if I found out it was his man behind all this.
The need tosee Raven hit me as I rounded the corner to the entry into my wing of the pack house. I’d returned home to wait for news from my trackers. But that wasn’t completely true, was it?
Even when I was knee deep in critical affairs, Raven lingered in my every thought. I owed her an apology, and if she decided not to forgive me, then that was fine as well.
At the edge of the corridor, I watched the door of my room swing open, and Raven stepped out, casting a surreptitious look around before hurrying down the hall to her bedroom with—was that my shirt tucked under her arm?
For a moment, I stood still, trying and failing to understand what I had just seen. Then, still puzzled, I headed towards Raven’s room. I didn’t knock before I stepped in. Climbing onto her bed, Raven made a startled sound, her face pale with shock as my gaze swept across her room.
The guest room space had been transformed into a mirror of mine. Those grey curtains and navy-blue bedspread were mine. And my shirts—my missing shirts were twisted into pillowcases, sleeves knotted into careful rolls.
