The Alpha's Guilt

  Darius POV

  Five years later

  

 The she-wolf beneath me gasped, her nails digging into my shoulder. Melissa or Melinda…I wasn't sure, the names blurred together after five years.

   “Alpha!" She moaned, trying to pull me closer.

  I didn't answer as my body slammed harder into her and a cry escaped her lips, causing her hand to tighten around me. With each movement, her voice grew louder and she sounded like a broken record.

   “Shut up!" I growled, the words ripping out of me before I could stop them and her eyes widened but I didn't care, I wasn't looking at her. 

  When I finally pulled away, she reached for me again, but I was already on my feet, reaching for the whiskey that was on the nightstand, pouring myself a drink. The burn as I downed it felt familiar.

   “I can finish you off, Alpha." Her eyes remained on my bulge that was refusing to go down. She knelt in front of me, a smirk on her lips as she raised her hand to touch me.

   "Get out.” I snarled, 

 She froze, confusion flickering across her face. “But I thought..”

“I said get out.”

 The sharp edge in my voice left no room for argument. She gathered her things quickly before slipping out, leaving me alone.

  The door clicked shut behind her as I attempted to pour myself another drink but nothing came out…I needed another bottle, so grabbing a short and putting it on blinding, I swung the door open but stopped, as my gaze fell on the locked door across the hall. The master bedroom. Untouched for five years. The maids had learned not to even look at it after I'd thrown the first one who tried to clean it through a wall.

   Without taking the bottle, I returned to the room to get some sleep in preparation for the next day, but I knew better, sleep meant nightmares, but exhaustion won eventually.

   Not tonight, as I jolted awake from the dream that I was now used to.

  I walked to Selene, my daughter’s room, needing to see something that didn't make me want to tear the world apart. She slept peacefully, her golden hair spread across her pillow. She had her mother's hair and her eyes…which was hard to look at sometimes.

  Fixing her blanket gently, I turned and left her room.

  The hallway stretched before me, and my feet stopped at that locked door. I took out the key. Inside, everything remained exactly as she'd left it…her brush still on the dresser with golden strands caught in the bristles, her scent long faded but the memory of it suffocating.

  Morning came too soon and I buried myself in pack business, the only thing that numbed the constant ache. My wolf was restless, angry. He wanted his mate, and no amount of work or whiskey could quiet him.

 "Alpha," Blaise, my beta, said, entering my office with a stack of papers. "Doctor Teresa filed another objection to your decree, she maintains she committed no medical error."

I let out a sarcastic laugh. "Medical error? She performed an illegal surgery without anesthesia. She butchered our own."

"I know you're angry…" he started.

"Angry?" I said, looking Blaise straight in the eye, "I'm far beyond angry, Blaise. I revoked her license. She's lucky I didn't do worse."

 "She's still me and Iris's mother," Blaise said carefully. "And Iris needs–"

"Don't." My voice dropped dangerously low. "It’s been nearly twenty years, and Iris’s condition hasn’t improved at all. I really don’t think Teresa should be the one taking care of her."

   Blaise stiffened but I barely looked at him, my gaze drifting to the window.

I’ve never regretted choosing to save Iris. She really was on the brink of death at that time. But I do regret not keeping a closer eye on Teresa and putting more limits on her.

  “I made one mistake,” I said quietly, more to myself than to Blaise. “I should’ve trusted Teresa.”

Blaise hesitated. “You couldn’t have known–”

  “I should’ve known.” My tone cut through his words.

  I turned back to him then, my expression unreadable. “That’s what happens when you let emotion cloud judgment.”

    Blaise nodded, knowing better than to push. "Speaking of Iris, have you visited her today?" He asked instead. "She looked better when I saw her yesterday.” He added.

 "I'm going now." I stood up, straightening my shirt. Iris getting better was all I ever wanted. I hated seeing her so weak and dull. 

 The walk to Iris's villa felt longer each time. She'd moved out of the main house when her condition worsened again, I couldn't have Selene seeing her aunt like that.

  Due to her sickness, Iris lay in bed, pale and weak, just like five years ago.

 "How are you feeling?" I asked, sitting in the chair beside her bed.

"The same," she whispered, her voice trembling. "Did you bring Selene?"

  I said, "She's at school."

 She nodded, "does she still ask about her mom?"

 My jaw tightened. Selene did ask..constantly. But she wasn't asking about Iris. She just knew, with that terrifying perception children sometimes have, that Iris wasn't her real mother.

   “I’ll handle it,” I said quietly, rubbing a hand over her hair softly.

 Iris reached for my hand, her fingers were cold, trembling slightly, and I let her hold on.

“Darius,” she whispered, “I know you blame yourself–”

  “I do,” I admitted. The words felt like ash on my tongue. “But none of this is your fault. Don’t think it is.”

 Her eyes shimmered, guilt and exhaustion mixing in a way that twisted my chest.

 “I’ve already called in top healers and doctors from the other packs,” I said, “We’ll find a way to cure you.” I promised her.

 When she tried to speak, I brushed my thumb gently over her knuckles and managed a small smile, “save your strength." 

   She nodded gently, making herself comfortable on the bed. Telling Iris I needed to finish some things at the Pack house, I left, placing a kiss on her forehead. 

  Back in my office, I poured myself a drink, my third one before noon. The whiskey burned, but not enough to erase the memories.

  The whiskey bottle was nearly empty when Blaise returned again with another pointless update.

"The investigation team covered three more territories. Nothing."

  Five years. Five fucking years of searching for any trace of Astrid, and she'd vanished like smoke. The private investigators, the trackers, the informants, none of them had found anything real.

"Keep looking," I ordered.

"Alpha, it's been five years. Perhaps–" 

 The glass shattered in my hand. Blood mixed with whiskey, dripping onto the reports.

  "Perhaps what, Blaise?" My voice was deceptively calm.

  "Nothing, Alpha." He knew better than to finish that sentence. "The healers you summoned will arrive tomorrow for Iris." He said instead.

  After he left, I wrapped my bleeding hand absently. Another batch of experts, another round of disappointments. None of them could figure out why Iris remained sick despite everything we'd sacrificed.

 The mate bond ached in my chest, not severed, but wrong. Twisted. Astrid was out there somewhere, I could feel it. Hidden or held, but alive.

"Daddy?"

 Selene stood in the doorway, wearing a sad smile, “You're back?”

She nodded and padded closer. "How soon will mommy be back? I have a craft project I want to do with her."

The question I couldn't answer.

"I don't know."

The first honest thing I'd said all day.