CHAPTER 73: SHATTERED TRUTHS

Kiel

The room was heavy with silence, but not the kind that brought peace. It was the kind that came before an explosion, a pressure building in the walls and behind every breath. I stood frozen, rooted to the spot, staring at the images on the screen like they were foreign objects from another world. A parallel reality.

Another man. Another life.

Except it was me.

My throat clenched. The air seemed to thicken around me as my eyes burned into the screen. The lighting was dim in the photo—intentionally seductive, like it had been crafted that way—but not enough to erase the truth. The shadows only made it worse. They clung to my face, outlining my jaw, my mouth. My hands were unmistakably gripping her hair. My lips pressed against hers.

The screen had my name tagged in bold. The post already saturated with comments. Cruel assumptions. Ruthless betrayal. And worse—disappointment. Not from strangers. But from people who once trusted me. The pack’s website had exploded with the image, and the public was eating it up like wolves to blood.

I felt the bile rise in my throat.

"Are you going to say something?" Varen’s voice cracked through the silence like a whip, sharp and unforgiving.

I didn’t move. I couldn’t.

"I said—are you going to say something, Kiel?" he barked again, louder this time, the edge in his voice like a growl barely contained.

I flinched, muscles jerking at the sound, but my gaze stayed shackled to the screen. My heartbeat pounded against my ribs, furious and desperate, like it was trying to escape my chest. "I... I thought it was fake," I croaked, barely able to hear my own voice.

"What the hell did you just say?" Varen thundered, his footsteps advancing with fury.

I turned toward him, throat dry as dust, voice cracking like glass. "It looks like it was... manufactured. I don’t remember—"

"You think this is a fucking joke?" he exploded, eyes blazing with an anger I hadn’t seen in years. "Do you know what this looks like to the public? To the pack? To Josie?"

"I don’t even remember being there!" I shouted, the panic surging forward, no longer containable. "I only remember the party and—"

Varen slammed his hand against the desk with a thunderous crack that shook me to the bone. "How do we explain this to them, Kiel?! How do we walk this back?! Do you think anyone’s going to believe this was some Photoshop prank? Do you think the council will nod and smile and just let it go?!"

My knees buckled under the weight of it all. I stumbled into a chair, my hands gripping the arms like they were the only thing holding me together. My entire body trembled with shame, confusion, and a creeping sense of dread that wouldn’t let go.

"I need to see Michelle," I whispered, barely able to hear myself over the ringing in my ears.

Before I could register it, Thorne was in front of me. His hand balled into the fabric of my shirt, yanking me out of the chair with force that knocked the breath from my lungs. His eyes were wild, teeth bared. "And what the hell do you want to say to her?" he snarled, his voice laced with venom. "That you’re sorry for dragging her into this? Or that you miss the taste of her lips? Stay away from her, Kiel. You hear me? You stay the fuck away."

I shoved him back, my breathing ragged. "You don’t get it—"

"No, you don’t!" Thorne barked, shoving his finger into my chest. His eyes were savage, filled with betrayal I couldn’t bear to see.

I turned inward, desperate for a lifeline, reaching out to my wolf for clarity, for comfort, for anything that could make this make sense. But I was met with a wall of silence.

Nothing.

No whisper of thought. No flicker of emotion.

Just a gaping void.

My chest tightened, a sharp pain blooming behind my ribs. He wasn’t just silent. He was gone.

"Where is he?" I murmured, my voice breaking. "Why isn’t he saying anything?"

Varen shook his head with bitter disgust. "Of course he’s quiet. He’s ashamed. I’m ashamed. I thought you were many things, Kiel, but I never thought you’d let your damn desires ruin everything. You should be ashamed of yourself."

The words sliced through me. Each one a blade to the gut.

I stumbled back a step like he’d physically hit me. The ache was worse than any punch. I swallowed the lump in my throat, the shame eating me alive. My fists clenched at my sides, the rage inside me simmering into something desperate.

"Why are you all blaming me?" I snapped, voice rising. "I wouldn’t have even been at that stupid birthday party if it wasn’t for Varen! You told me to go!"

Thorne and Varen exchanged a look. That look.

It wasn’t just judgment—it was pity.

That made my blood boil.

"You think I’m crazy, don’t you?" I hissed, the words bitter on my tongue. "You think I’ve lost my mind—"

"Kiel—" Thorne started, but I cut him off.

"No!" I shouted, the chair screeching behind me as I stood. "Listen to me! This isn’t my fault. It’s yours! Varen, you practically shoved me out that door. I didn’t even want to go!"

Varen’s jaw clenched. He stalked forward with fire in his eyes. And then his fist came crashing into the side of my face.

Pain exploded across my temple, the taste of blood coating my mouth. My vision blurred as I staggered sideways, disoriented.

"The only real thing," Varen seethed, his voice shaking with rage, "is that you walked into that hotel room with Michelle. That’s the truth. Not whatever convenient story you’ve convinced yourself of. That’s the truth, and you need to face it."

My fists clenched. My jaw throbbed. "You don’t know anything—"

"Enough!" Thorne roared, shoving himself between us before the tension could ignite again. "Both of you—enough!" His eyes flashed as he turned to Varen. "You’re not helping!"

I gasped, struggling to draw breath. My heart felt like it was splintering inside my chest. Every thought was a blur. Every memory out of order. Nothing made sense. It was like I was living someone else’s life—someone else’s nightmare.

"We have to keep this quiet," Thorne said firmly. His voice was lower now, but the steel in it was unmistakable. "Especially from Josie. If she hears even a whisper of this, it’ll destroy her. It’ll destroy whatever’s left between you. You want that? You want her to think this... this thing is real?"

My stomach turned.

The thought of her seeing that photo—of her believing it—made me want to tear my skin off. "I didn’t do anything wrong," I growled, my voice shaking. "I’m going to prove it."

Varen scoffed. "How?"

"You don’t need to know how," I spat, storming past them. "Just shut up and get out of my way."

But as I turned toward the door, the words died in my throat.

She was standing there.

Just inside the doorway.

Josie.

Her lips parted slightly. Her hands limp at her sides. Her body tense. Her expression—God, her expression—was something I’d never forget.

Her eyes. Those beautiful, bright, soulful eyes that had once looked at me with such love and trust. They were glossed over with tears now, rimmed red with disbelief. With devastation. Her face was pale, like all the color had been drained from her body. Like the light had gone out.

It was like watching her break in slow motion.

The world dropped out from under me.

Her gaze met mine, and everything in me stopped. I felt it. Every emotion crashing over her like waves. The betrayal. The confusion. The fear. The pain.

I didn’t need her to speak. Her silence screamed louder than any words.

"Josie," I breathed, my voice ragged and hollow.

But it was too late.

The damage was done.