LOGINTate pov Her feet kicked uselessly against the mattress, her lips turning pale as she stared into my eyes. She saw no mercy left in me.I shoved her back into the pillows, releasing my grip.Tracy collapsed sideways, clutching her neck with both hands. She gagged, taking in huge, desperate gulps of air, coughing violently as her chest heaved. Tears spilled down her cheeks—real tears of absolute panic, not the performative ones she had shed moments ago. She huddled against the headboard, trembling as she steadied herself.I stood over her, cold and unwavering."I have one question left," I said, my voice dropping into a hollow, freezing quiet. "Did you know, from the very beginning, whose son you were raising?"Tracy looked up at me through her disheveled hair, the last piece of her innocent facade finally crumbling away into nothing."Yes," she whispered, her voice raw and ruined. "I knew every day."Her voice was a ruined, raspy thread as she clutched her neck, tears smearing acros
Tate's POV The heavy oak doors of the pack house slammed open under my grip, throwing cold rain into the grand foyer. I tracked mud across the polished floor, completely ignoring the startled gasps of the servants as I barged inside."Alpha Tate?" Gideon stepped directly into my path, a folder in hand and his brow furrowed in deep confusion. "We weren't expecting you back from the institute until tomorrow morning. Is the inquiry"I didn't answer. I didn't even look at him. I shoved past his shoulder without breaking stride, my jaw clenched so hard my teeth ached. Storm was snarling behind my ribs, his fury matching my own as I clutched Parkville’s thick envelope against my chest. Every carven crest, every towering stone pillar of this place didn't feel like home anymore—it felt like a gilded cage built on top of a mass grave."Alpha?" an elder called out from the hearth, standing up with alarm. "What happened?"Whispers rippled through the main hall, but I took the grand staircase tw
Tate pov Elara had recorded her growing unease around Caesar in the weeks leading up to the slaughter: the way he positioned his own men in places that made no sense unless he was preparing for a coup, the careful distance he kept from anyone who might later connect him to trouble, and the particular attention he paid to Tracy's infertility—as though it were a strategic resource rather than a private grief."Read this part," Nicole whispered, her breath hitching as her finger moved down to a paragraph near the bottom."'He watches Tracy's empty cradle like a man waiting for a delivery,'" I read, my voice steady despite the sudden tightness in my chest. "'He tells Luca the border patrols are secure, but he moved the guards away from the west pass days ago. I intend to raise my concerns with Luca directly. If anything happens to me first, I want this account to survive me.'""She died in the ambush itself," Marlon said quietly from the window. "Alongside Luca and Viola, before she ever
Tate's POVWhen Parkville summoned me to the institute's rooftop lab, it threw me off. After the initial blow he had dealt me a while ago, I had fully expected our next encounter to take place back at his house—behind closed doors, on private ground, away from clinical walls. Instead, he wanted us here, in a room where the institute's truths always seemed to surface.Nicole and I walked in, but the second we crossed the threshold, I froze.Marlon was already standing by the window with his arms crossed. He was supposed to be miles away at Northgate.I scoffed, shaking my head. "Seems he also told you."Nicole squeezed past me, her breath catching as her eyes locked onto Marlon. "Marlon?" A sudden crack of genuine warmth broke through her guarded posture. "I missed you... I didn't think you'd be back from Northgate so soon." But as her gaze flicked between the two of us, taking in the suffocating, clinical tension hanging in the air, her brow furrowed. "Wait—told him what? What is happ
Tate pov The air in the office felt heavy and suffocating. I desperately needed him to be lying. I needed him to crack, to admit this was a twisted psychological test or a ploy to break my resolve. Because if he wasn't lying—if even a fraction of this nightmare was real—then my entire existence was built on lies. "I have nothing to gain, Tate," Parkville replied softly, his weathered eyes shining with a deep, ancient grief. "Elara was my life. Luca and Viola were her friends. I didn't spend decades unraveling this trail to hurt you. I did it because the truth deserved to survive, and because you deserve to know who stripped you of your real family." He leaned forward, placing his trembling hands flat on the desk, his gaze locking onto mine with absolute, unyielding clarity. "He was not raising a son, Tate," Parkville said, his quiet voice cutting through my rage. "He was raising a trophy. The biological heir of the Alpha that was murdered by Caesar and molded into a weapon to l
Tate pov I frowned, the names sounding vaguely familiar from old pack history archives, but distant. "Sorry, who are they?" I asked, interrupting gently.Parkville looked at me with a heavy, sorrowful gaze. "Alpha Luca and Luna Viola were the former leaders of the South River Pack—the rightful rulers who were murdered years ago in the road ambush that brought Caesar to power."He paused, letting the weight of the history settle before continuing. "Before that tragic day, Elara noticed Caesar positioning allies unnaturally. She wrote down her suspicions because she didn't trust what Caesar was planning. But she died in that very ambush alongside Luca and Viola."He leaned forward and tapped the glass of a framed photograph sitting on the desk. It showed three young women sitting together on a sunlit garden bench.My eyes immediately locked onto the woman sitting on the far right. The sharp jawline and rigid posture were unmistakable—it was a young Tracy Caesar. I had seen her face in
Nicole's POV The banquet hall was full by the time I took my seat beside Tate, candlelight running the length of the table and every chair occupied by someone who mattered politically. I had worn the dark green dress Tracy had approved two seasons ago conservative, appropriate, nothing that invited
Nicole's POVI don't sleep. I sit at the kitchen table for a long time after I get home, still in my work clothes, my hands wrapped around a mug of tea that goes cold before I drink any of it. The apartment is quiet after the twins go down. Usually, that silence settles me. Tonight, it just gives
TATE'S POV Nicole had been unusually quiet for days. I noticed. I notice everything — Caesar made sure of that from the time I was old enough to stand. That morning she handed me the wrong tie. Her fingers moved too fast and her eyes didn't meet mine. Storm flagged her scent immediately, somethin
Nicole's POVThe next morning, I was cleaning Tate office study, gathering papers from the edge of the desk into a neat stack without reading them, because reading Tate's documents was one of the few transgressions he had made explicitly clear he would not forgive. But the highlighted text caught







