Chapter 115
AYE
The prisoner lay crumpled against the chains, his lip split and swollen, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth where Alexander’s fist had landed only moments ago. He coughed wetly, his chest rattling with every breath, but his eyes still burned with defiance.
Alexander stood over him like a storm barely restrained, chest heaving, his fists balled so tightly his knuckles were bone white. He was pacing now, forward and back, as though moving might keep his rage from consuming him whole. But I knew better.
I had seen the way Alexander’s entire body stiffened when the prisoner spat it out. The word
alone had lit a fire in him.
“Say it again,” Alexander growled, voice thick with threat, his eyes flashing with the dangerous glint of his wolf. “Repeat it, and I’ll rip your tongue out of your mouth before you finish the last syllable.”
The man just smirked, even as blood stained his teeth. “Marcus. The rightful Alpha.”
That was when Alexander struck him. Again and again.
I had rushed forward, catching his arm in the air. “Alexander, stop!” My voice echoed against
the cold stone, loudly. For a moment, I didn’t know if he would even hear me.
“He’s daring me,” Alexander snarled, trying to pull away from me. “He’s lying. He doesn’t get to spit that kind of filth about my pack and live to see another sunrise.”
“He’s already half–dead,” I said sharply, pushing him back with all the steadiness I could muster. “If you beat him to death, what then? You’ll have silence, but no answers. And we
need answers, Alexander. Don’t you see that? He’s trying to get under your skin.”
The man coughed violently then, collapsing onto his side as his body heaved. Blood splattered the floor, and I knew if we didn’t stop, there’d be nothing left to question by
morning.
I forced Alexander toward the door, shoving hard when he resisted. “Out,” I ordered. “Just
leave… ”
For a moment, I thought he’d refuse. His jaw worked furiously, his breath coming in harsh bursts. But then, with one last look at the prisoner, he stormed past me and shoved the cell door so hard it slammed into the stone wall.
The clang echoed long after he was gone.
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Chapter 115
Claim
I lingered a moment, watching the man’s body curl inward, listening to the wheeze of his breath. He would live…for now. And that was enough. I turned and followed Alexander out, closing the door behind me.
He was pacing the corridor, hands clenched at his sides, head bowed as if he were barely holding himself together. His hair hung loose across his forehead, sweat beading along his temples. When I came closer, he lifted his head, and the raw fury in his eyes made me stop
short.
“This isn’t a time to lose your temper,” I said softly.
His jaw clenched. “You heard what he said.”
“Yes. And I also saw the way you nearly killed him before he could say more. If that’s how you plan to handle this, then you’ll never know what game is being played here,” I said.
He scoffed. “Game? Is that what you think this is, Faye? Someone daring to claim my birthright? That’s no game…it’s an insult. And the one who spreads it deserves to die choking on his own blood.”
I folded my arms across my chest. “And what then? You silence him, but the rumors spread anyway. You kill him, but Marcus…whatever his name is…still comes. Then what, Alexander? What will you do. The one who claims to be the rightful alpha of Blood Crescent.”
That stopped him. His shoulders stiffened, his breath caught, and slowly, he turned his head toward me. The weight of his stare was almost too much to bear.
“There is no Marcus,” he said finally, his voice like ice. “There can’t be. Blood Crescent’s Alpha has always been from the Blackwell line. Always. There’s no other claim. Not by blood, not by oath, not by fate…just me.”
“Then why does he call himself rightful?” I asked, my voice low. “Why not just say he wants to conquer this territory? That would make sense. Packs fight for territory all the time. But this-
this is different. It sounds like a claim….it is a claim.”
For the first time since we left the cell, doubt flashed in his expression. Just for a heartbeat,
but I saw it.
He scoffed and shook his head, as if to banish the thought. “It’s impossible. The only way someone else could claim Blood Crescent by right is if they carried Blackwell blood. And I am the only heir. The last of my line. End of story.”
I studied him carefully, his rigid posture, the way his words came too quickly, too sharply. He was rattled, even if he wouldn’t admit it. And that unsettled me more than anything.
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“Maybe it’s not the end of the story,” I said quietly. “Maybe it’s just the beginning of one we don’t yet know.”
His gaze snapped to mine. For a moment, I thought he might lash out again, but then he turned away, dragging both hands through his hair in frustration.
“I can’t entertain this,” he muttered, pacing once more. “I won’t. Whoever this Marcus is, whatever he thinks he’s entitled to…it’s nothing. Someone trying to sow doubt, to divide the pack. That’s all.”
But even as he said it, I could feel the tension radiating from him, the crack in his armor. He
wasn’t as sure as he wanted me to believe.
I sat on the stone bench by the wall, folding my hands in my lap, watching him like I always did when he tried too hard to mask what was clawing at him inside. “Alexander,” I said finally, breaking the silence, “you can be furious all you want, but fury won’t give us answers. We need to be smart…we need to listen. And right now, that prisoner is the only lead we have. Don’t take that away.”
He didn’t say anything.
“Promise me, Alexander,” I said.
“Fine! I won’t touch him. Excuse me.” He stormed out.
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