Chapter 3

Lea's POV

Life is nothing without risk or so I told myself as I made the decision to stay and find evidence and answers to margot's claim and I knew I wont be able to forgive myself if something happens to my packmates, I knew they all hated me but my parents had loved everyone and I owe it to them to prove my brother's innocence or confirm their worst suspicion.

Where do I start? Somehow my eyes kept returning to his desk, the same desk that contained drawers I'd never dared open and the locked cabinet in the corner where he kept important documents. Like father did when he was alive, it's still pretty much the same settings.

I was running a cloth over his desk in case anyone was passing when I noticed a small smear of blood on the corner, barely visible against the dark wood. This is definitely fresh blood; it wasn't there when I was called to his office yesterday evening, which could only mean that this blood stain was from last night or midnight.

My stomach turned. Who had Damian hurt in here after I'd left? I hadn't heard anyone scream out in pain overnight.

I cleaned the blood away and tried not to think about it. I tried to focus on my task, but my hands were shaking now, and the voice in my head that sounded like my mother's was screaming at me to look, to search, to find out what monster my brother had become.

I checked outside the door again, and it was still empty since normal pack members were still sleeping peacefully, unlike we pack maids scattered all over doing our pre-dawn chores.

I checked the desk drawers; they were locked as expected, but the key hung on a hook behind a painting of our father, the same place father keeps it. Damian's arrogance was almost laughable. I climbed a stool and grabbed the key that opened the top drawer just to see loads of papers ranging from financial reports to Border Patrol schedules, it's all boring pack alpha basic necessities, and if I were being honest, there's nothing incriminating about them. But Margot's hunch must be respected.

I moved to the second drawer, which held more of the same, and I was beginning to think Margot had sent me on a fool's errand when my fingers brushed against something odd. Strangely enough, the bottom of the drawer was higher than it should be.

A false bottom. A loud alarm shrieked in my head.

My heart hammered against my ribs as I felt along the edges, looking for a release mechanism because there had to be one. I knew this because my father had kept a similar hiding place in his desk for sensitive documents, but this one was new. Not the same secret safe that Father used.

There was a small indentation on the left side.

I pressed it, and the false button popped up with a soft click. Inside was a leather folder and a small glass vial filled with purple liquid. I looked around carefully to be sure I was still alone before I pulled out the folder first. Inside were letters, dozens of them, written in Damian's familiar scrawl. I scanned the first one.

*The omega female will fetch a good price. Thirty years old, good health, no family to miss her. Wire the payment to the usual account.*

Wait, did I read that right? Unfortunately, yes, I did.

My hands started shaking so hard I nearly dropped the letter, and realization dawned on me that Margot had been right after all, Damian was selling pack members. His own wolves and the same people he'd sworn to protect. My brother is selling off the pack mates our parents had fought for with their sweat and blood.

I grabbed another letter, then another. They were all the same horrifying details of different lists of familiar names, most of whom we've been told had gone rogue or changed packs or even died; they've all been sold off at ridiculous prices. I saw different account numbers.

The shock in my body had me numb and confused for minutes before I could make sense of the fact that wolves were being sold like livestock to goddess knows where.

Then I found a letter in my brother's familiar scrawl that made my blood run cold.

*The Blackthorne girl is becoming a liability. She asks too many questions about her parents' death. I'll be sending her to Royal Shifts as planned, but if Alpha Amreth refuses her, I'll need other arrangements made, this time– Permanently.*

Different questions and scenarios flashed through my mind as I read and reread the letter, as if it would change the contents. Why does my brother refer to me as The Blackthorne girl? I'd only asked questions about our parents' death because I assumed only my brother would know more and could understand me better than others, seeing as we both carry the same grief, but I've never been more mistaken.

The letter was dated two weeks ago, which simply meant Amazing brother Damian had been planning to kill me if Royal Shifts rejected me as their bride offering. The marriage and journey to my new pack wasn't mercy or coincidence, no, this was my supposed brother trying to get rid of a problem which happens to be me.

I set the letters aside with shaking hands and picked up the vial. The liquid inside was the color of crushed violets and smelled faintly of nightshade and —

No. No. Just No. Wolfsbane?

The pieces clicked together with horrible clarity, all the full moon aches I experienced, the missing wolf I sometimes still felt scratching at the edges of my consciousness, and the way Damian always insisted I eat breakfast with the pack, watching to make sure I cleaned my plate.

Has he been poisoning me? For four years, my own brother had been dosing me with wolfsbane to suppress my wolf and make me appear cursed.

The Moon Goddess hadn't taken my wolf as punishment.

Damian had taken her from me, or could I be wrong?

Just as I reached that painful conclusion, the door suddenly opened behind me.