Page 77 of Knocked Up By My Fated Alpha
She had no right to touch Raven’s things and invade the one space where Raven felt safe. She had disrupted the instinctive, private comfort a pregnant wolf builds for herself. And I almost told her all of this, right then and there. But I held back. I didn’t want to raise her guard.
Something about Rielle had felt off ever since she returned. The amnesia was just a little too convenient. Even in feral states, most wolves retained fragments and flashes of what they’d done. But Rielle remembered nothing? Not even after killing three humans?
It didn’t sit right.
I’d quietly opened an investigation on her days ago, and during thatinvestigation, a witness had come forward, a human claiming they’d seen her in the woods, sane and completely in control of herself with no trace of madness in her eyes. The last thing I needed was for her to sense I was onto whatever she might be hiding.
That’s why I said nothing during the argument and why I didn’t defend Raven, even when I should have.
Still, my wolf snarled, restless, demanding I do something, anything, to ease this ache. I sat up, the mattress creaking under my weight, my gaze drifting to the wardrobe where my shirts now hung. Maybe I couldn’t talk to her yet, but I could leave something, a piece of me to comfort her, to wrap her in my citrus-and-cedar scent until I could hold her myself.
I rose, my steps silent on the hardwood, the soft overhead lights casting a dim glow. The pack house was still, the workers asleep, the air heavy with the musk of wolves and the faint tang of pine. I turned toward Raven’s room, my heart pounding, picturing her curled up, alone, her defiance masking the pain I’d caused.
But before I could take another step, a scent hit me. It was sunflower, sharp and heavy in the air, unmistakably Rielle’s scent. My brows furrowed, my wolf stilling.
That’s odd, I thought, my pulse quickening.
It’s strong, too strong. She’s not in her room.
Suspicion coiled in my chest.
I’d been biding my time, nursing her back to health for the sake of the Sky Pack’s truce, watching for the slip that would betray her. My wolf growled, urging me to follow, to uncover what she was hiding. Raven could wait a moment longer. I needed to know what Rielle was scheming now.
I turned, trailing the sunflower scent through the shadowed halls, my steps remained silent, almost predatory. The scent grew stronger, leading me to my office, where the door stood ajar, a sliver of moonlight spilling through the crack.
My brows furrowed tighter. What the hell is she doing in my office?
The floor creaked as I pushed the office door open, the hinges groaning in the stillness.
Rielle stood frozen, her blond hair glinting, her hands clutching a file…my file, the one detailing the human murders. Some torn pages lay scattered on the floor, their edges jagged, the grainy photos of bloodied bodies staring up like accusations.
Her sunflower scent choked the air, sharp with panic as her blue eyes met mine, widening with guilt she couldn’t hide. She dropped the file, papers fluttering, her hands trembling as she stepped back, her lips parting in a lie I could already taste.
“What are you doing, Rielle?” I asked, my voice low, a growl threading through it, my wolf pacing, claws itching within me.
My gaze flicked to the shredded documents, the evidence I’d painstakingly gathered, evidence of the human lives she had taken. Her presence here, at this hour, tearing into my work, confirmed every suspicion I’d nursed since her return.
She swallowed, setting her face into a smile, a practiced image settling over her like a mask. “I couldn’t sleep, Damien,” she said, her voice trembling, tears welling artfully. “I thought… if I looked at the files, the pictures of those humans I killed in my feral state, I might remember something. I just want answers, to understand what I did.” Her hands clasped, her scent spiking with desperation, but her eyes betrayed her. They were way too sharp, too calculated.
I stepped closer to her, my steps crunching on the torn pages, my wolf snarling at her deceit. “Is that why you’re tearing up the files?” I said, my voice cold, cutting through her act like a blade.
I bent, snatching a shredded photo from the floor, the image of the last victim: a young man, throat torn open by what was obviously her claws, eyes wide in terror. “This was the last human you killed. You weren’t feral, were you? You knew exactly what you were doing.”
Rielle’s breath hitched, her stuttering words a weak defense. “No, Damien, I didn’t. I mean…I don’t remember.” Her voice cracked, and her hands fluttered, but I pressed forward, crowding her space, my gaze pinning her like prey.
“Don’t lie,” I snarled, my fist tightening around the paper, my wolf’s rage boiling over. “Witnesses saw you in the woods, Rielle, sane and sober with no trace of madness. You planned that murder, didn’tyou?” My voice was a low growl, each word a hammer striking her crumbling facade. “Why?”
Her face crumpled, tears spilling, but her scent, dripping in deep fear, betrayed her guilt. “I was feral for a while, Damien, I swear,” she said, her voice raw, pleading. “The first few humans…I don’t remember killing them. I was lost and broken after you rejected me. But the last one…” She hesitated, her eyes darting, then met mine, and her confession spilled. “I was sane. I killed him to get your attention. You’d never have come for me otherwise, never given me a chance to explain.”
My anger surged, a wildfire in my veins, but beneath it, I felt a kind of satisfaction, because her admission confirmed what I’d suspected. “You’ve been lying to me all along,” I said, my voice steady and lethal. “Playing up amnesia, manipulating the Sky Pack, murdering an innocent human with full intent. For what? To crawl back into my life?”
My wolf roared, its claws scraping my chest. It was a strange sensation. This was a woman who once drove my wolf wild with desire. Now, all she inspired within me was rage and disgust. Disgust, and a need to know more. I needed the truth of her past betrayal, the wound that had cost me Natasha.
Her tears flowed freely now, her hands reaching for me, stopping short as I flinched. “I had to, Damien,” she sobbed, her voice breaking. “I knew you’d never forgive me for what Tyler and I did, for…for Natasha, unless I forced you to see me. I needed you to hear the truth about what happened back then.”
She stepped closer, her scent cloying, her eyes pleading. “Tyler, my brother, lied to me. He said Matt’s truce with you was a ploy to get you to lower your guard, that Matt would attack the Shadow Thorn Pack as soon as he was sure you were relaxed. I thought I was protecting you, giving Tyler the Shadow Thorn Pack’s weak points to secure them. I didn’t know he’d invade both packs, that he’d use me to start a war.”
My jaw clenched, memories crashing over me…Natasha’s blood, Rielle’s silhouette fleeing with Tyler, leaving my pack to burn.
