CHAPTER 105: THE ALPHA HAS HIS... REASONS

The night air on the balcony tugged at my hair, cool strands brushing across my face.

I had stormed out of the meeting room because Rion had stared at me with that infuriatingly blank expression for a full minute without saying a word. I was too frustrated to endure another heartbeat in his presence.

Below, the city was still alive with music and laughter. The people continued to celebrate without a clue. None of them—except a few warriors—knew an attempted murder had taken place within their very walls.

They hadn’t been told, for fear of alarming them... or warning the culprit. Besides, no one wanted the first night of the Moon Festival ruined.

I heard light footsteps behind me and didn’t need to turn to know who it was.

Raye stopped at my side. For a moment, she said nothing.

Then, softly, she told me, "You shouldn’t have said that."

"Said what?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, annoyance still simmering under my skin.

I turned to her, forcing myself to soften my tone.

"You saw it, Raye. Your Alpha doesn’t look the least bit worried that your friend is dying. Did you see his eyes? They lit up when we talked about the harp and the key. I’d wager he only bothered looking for the culprit earlier when we found Jeron because he was irritated that someone dared to stir trouble in his territory, not because he cared about helping Jeron."

She shook her head, sighing, and her gaze drifted out over the glowing city.

"I know I brought up the harp," I admitted, guilt pressing at me. "That’s on me. I only thought it might be a lead to finding the culprit. Because what if... what if you’re not the only ones who know what those keys can do? But I should’ve waited. I should’ve mentioned it after we found more ways to help Jeron." My throat tightened. "I’m sorry, Raye."

Raye turned to me and clasped my hand gently. "You don’t have to apologize, silly."

She tried to smile, but the attempt was fragile, a pale shadow of the bright grin she usually wore. It broke my heart to see it.

"The Alpha has his... reasons," she murmured, so softly the last word was almost lost to the wind, as if she wasn’t meant to say it aloud at all.

"Yes, of course he has reasons," I said bitterly. "Reasons why he wants the Celestial Wolf so badly."

"It’s not like what you think."

My hazel eyes searched hers. "Then what is it? What more is there?"

She didn’t answer. Silence was her only reply.

I sighed and turned back toward the city lights. She was too blinded by her faith, by her respect for Rion, to admit that he could be flawed. That he wasn’t always right.

The silence stretched between us until she spoke again.

"Keigan is always free to use the plants in the Alpha’s greenhouse. I’m sure he already has in tending to Jeron."

I bit down on my lower lip. Is it really hopeless, then?

No, I refuse to believe there wasn’t another way to fix things.

"You know what I’m thinking?" I heard Leika. "You are too fixated on fixing Jeron’s situation because you didn’t have the chance to do it with the people you cared the most."

"Is it wrong to try to help?"

"No, of course not. But don’t be too hard on yourself."

My jaw tightened.

I turned to Raye. "If it’s not enough, do you know any other healer? Maybe from other districts?"

Raye shook her head.

My fingers curled tight around the stone railing. My voice trembled as I whispered,

"Maybe we can get help outside the Undercity. There could be medicines you don’t use here. I saw Jeron myself, Raye. Those wounds... they’re too grave. If I’m honest, I don’t think he’ll recover."

Before she could answer, footsteps approached.

I turned, heart lurching, just as Ares stepped out of the balcony doors.

"Diaval didn’t find the harp anywhere," Ares said. "Someone from the House of Ambrosia claimed a man came to take it earlier, saying Jeron had instructed him. But strangely... no one can describe the man’s face. It’s as if the memory was stolen from them."

A chill prickled at the back of my neck. "Then the only way to know who the culprit was, or anything about the harp, is through Jeron. You need him alive."

"Yes." Ares crossed his arms over his chest, his tone dry but edged with frustration. "That’s why Diaval and I are leaving the Undercity. We’ll search aboveground, see if there’s anything that can help him recover quickly."

I almost smirked. Of course. Rion’s order.

If the harp hadn’t been stolen and Jeron wasn’t the only thread leading to answers, would Rion have bothered sending them out at all?

* * *

Steam still clung to my skin as I stepped out of the bathroom, a robe tied loosely around me. My dress from earlier lay crumpled on the floor, seams tugged and a few threads torn from my reckless undressing when I’d stormed back into my bedroom.

Regardless of Rion’s intentions, the thought of Diaval and Ares scouring the world above for something—anything—that might save Jeron gave me a small measure of relief.

My worry hadn’t lessened, but it was laced with the faintest thread of hope.

Now calmer, I sat on the edge of my bed and pressed my palms against my temples, eyes shut tight.

The words I’d spat at Rion earlier replayed in my mind. I bit my tongue at the memory.

Any other Alpha would’ve had me dragged out for less. Challenging his authority in front of his trusted pack members wasn’t just rude. It was open defiance.

In another pack, I might not have lived to see the next sunrise. At best, I’d be punished. At worst... tortured to death.

But Rion couldn’t lay a hand on me. Not with the bargain between us binding his will. That was the only reason I was still sitting here unscathed, still breathing.

I let my damp hair fall unbrushed over my shoulders and slipped into a beige nightgown, fingers working quickly at the buttons.

Just as I finished fastening the last one, a knock sounded at my door.

Pushing to my feet, I crossed the floor and opened it—only to be met by a pair of crimson eyes burning in the dim light.