Chapter 39

ALPHA TRISTAN 

The heavy oak door clicked shut behind Harlan and Paige, leaving the air in my office thick with the cloying scent of Yvonne’s expensive perfume and the sharp, metallic tang of her mounting panic. I turned away from the door, my hands gripping the polished edge of my glass desk until my knuckles turned white and the pressure threatened to shatter the surface.

Yvonne decided to sit down in one of the leather visitor chairs, but I noticed she was incredibly restless. She crossed and uncrossed her legs, her fingers drumming a frantic, silent rhythm on the armrest—she was clearly trying to find a way to mask the tremors of her own vulnerability. I ignored her for a long moment, zeroing in on my own internal chaos. Was I overreacting to Harlan’s accusations?

The last image of Sara burned into my mind was of her lying on the cold hall floor, stripped of her dignity and looking utterly helpless. I felt a sickening lurch in my gut, a realization that I was the one ultimately responsible for that scene. I tried to rationalize it, to tell myself she deserved it for Claudia’s sake, but somehow, I felt I had overstepped a boundary of basic humanity. Was I right to seek such vengeance? Was my anger truly righteous, or was I simply becoming a monster to match the nightmares of my enemies?

"I think your silence is very loud, Tristan. Say something. Anything," Yvonne eventually said. The woman who spoke now was not my regular Right Hand—the one who was always firm, confident, and unyielding in her ways. Her voice sounded fragile, like a woman who had just had a devastating, life-altering argument with her husband.

"Is it true?" I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerously low, gravelly pitch.

"Is what true, exactly?" She tried to play the fool, pretending she didn't know what I was talking about, her eyes darting toward the security monitors.

"Don't play games with me, Yvonne. Not tonight. The jealousy. The obsession. Everything Harlan just spat in my face—is that why we’ve been playing this twisted game with the girl? Is that why you pushed for the display in the hall?" If my voice had been low before, it became even quieter, vibrating with a cold, focused intensity.

She didn't answer immediately. Instead, she stood up and started pacing the length of the room like a caged animal, her heels clicking a frantic, uneven rhythm on the hardwood floor. I wanted to bark the question again, to demand the truth, but my wolf nudged me to stay silent. Ever since Sara had healed my physical body, my wolf had been increasingly vocal, growling against the constant cycle of torture and humiliation I was putting the girl through.

When Yvonne finally turned to look at me, she didn't look like my elite commander; she looked utterly desperate. "Harlan is a traitor, Tristan. He’s a man who wants to undermine your strength by appealing to a softness you can't afford. Don't let his romanticized fairy tales distract you from the mission. We need to finish this once and for all. That display in the hall tonight... it wasn't enough."

"Enough?" I shouted, the word echoing sharply off the glass walls and the digital screens. "She was tied to a drain, Yvonne! My men spit on her! I watched the very soul leave her eyes as they laughed at her! If that isn't enough for you, then what in the Goddess's name is?"

"It didn't break her!" Yvonne screamed back, closing the distance between us and stepping into my personal space. "She killed Claudia without thinking twice! How convenient that she would have you believe it was all a tragic mistake. Only it wasn't. It was calculated. Think, Tristan. Think about who benefits from her being here." She was pleading now, her eyes wide and searching.

"Think about what, exactly? Are you even listening to the words coming out of your mouth right now?" I queried her, my hands falling to my sides.

"What is the purpose of a punishment if the recipient is not fundamentally broken by the end of it?" she challenged me, her voice rising in an animalistic way. "If the recipient is not remorseful afterward? If they don't truly understand that they've done something unforgivable?"

"Well, you don't know if she..." I started to say, but my voice trailed off. Was she right? Or was I finally seeing the madness in her eyes?

"I saw her eyes right before I left the hall, Tristan. There was no submission there. There was no broken spirit. There was only cold, hard hate," she whispered, her voice dropping an octave into something dark.

I stared at her, unsure how we had arrived at this exact point of insanity. "Hold on, Yvonne. I thought we were talking about you? I thought we were addressing the things Harlan said about your feelings for me?" I asked slowly, trying to force the conversation back to the revelation that had stunned me.

She totally ignored my question as if she hadn't heard a single word I’d said. "As long as she breathes, she is a threat to the stability of the Twilight Zone. She is a beacon for Rune and his trackers. We need something permanent. We need to make that 'accident' on the highway a reality."

A chill that had nothing to do with the office’s air conditioning settled over my skin. "You’re talking about cold-blooded murder. I won't have it. I won't be a part of it. She’s too valuable as a pawn and a healer."

Yvonne’s expression shifted instantly. The rage died out, replaced by a devastating, quiet sadness that made her look older than her years. She stepped even closer, her hand trembling as she reached out to touch the fabric of my jacket lapel. "Valuable? To whom, Tristan? To the pack... or is she becoming valuable to you?"

Everything seemed to be happening far too fast, and I didn't want to agree to anything I would inevitably regret later. "Hold on, Yvonne. One thing we know for certain is that Alpha Rune, the Conqueror, is still deeply interested in her. So far, we've managed to fool him and the rest of the world into thinking she's dead. If we were to actually—"

"Yes," she interrupted, her voice a desperate caress. "All we need to do is make the accident permanent. That way, you finally get to avenge the Luna she took from you. I have always advocated for her death, Tristan. I’ve always been the one looking out for your soul."

"Yes, you have, and it was a good thing I didn't listen to you then! What would I have said if she were actually dead and Alpha Rune had tracked her remains back to my pack? I would have been slaughtered," I argued, the logic feeling flimsy even as I said it.