My wolf stirred restlessly, recognizing scents that belonged to our mate’s bloodline. Even diluted by distance and time, the Thornback family markers were unmistakable. They smelled of the lavender sachets Neva had always favored, of the pine ink Magnus preferred for official documents, and underneath it all, the ghost of Rhea herself. Pack, my wolf insisted.Protect.
But I’d already failed at protection, hadn’t I? Failed so spectacularly that the people who’d raised my mate now sat in exile because of crimes they hadn’t committed. The irony tasted worse than the bile that had become my constant companion.
“Ready?” Carlton asked, though we all knew the answer. Ready implied preparation, stability, some kind of plan beyond desperate fumbling for truth I’d ignored three months ago.
I pushed through the door anyway.
The temperature in the interrogation room dropped further when I entered, and not from the struggling HVAC system. Both Thornbacks went rigid, that particular stillness prey animalsadopted when predators appeared. Magnus’s jaw worked silently before he forced words past what must have been significant pride.
“Lycan King.” Not ‘Your Majesty’ or any of the other honorifics he’d once used. Just the bare minimum acknowledgment of rank.
“Where is she?” No preamble seemed necessary. We all knew why I’d come to this bureaucratic hellhole.
“Dead, for all you care.” Magnus delivered the words with bitter precision, each syllable aimed to wound.
The response hit exactly where he’d intended. My wolf snarled at the suggestion, but what right did I have to deny it? I’d carved her from my life, sent her into exile, chosen my brother’s corpse over my mate’s pleas. If she was dead, the blood was on my hands.
Neva’s laugh cracked through the room, sharp enough to draw blood. “Now you ask? Three months after you threw her away? Did your bed finally get too cold, or did you just run out of other omegas to terrorize?”
The accusation shouldn’t have landed, I hadn’t touched another woman, let alone an omega since Rhea, couldn’t even imagine it, but the implication stung anyway. They thought I’d replaced their daughter already, moved on to a new plaything while she rotted in whatever hole exile had forced her into.
“I need to find her.” The words emerged without my permission, raw honesty where I’d planned cold interrogation.
“Need.” Neva tasted the word, rolling it around before spitting it back. “You needed to believe her that night. You needed to investigate before condemning. You needed to be her mate instead of her judge. Your needs come too late.”
Magnus leaned back in his chair, studying me with eyes that had watched years of political maneuvering. Whatever he saw made his mouth twist with something between pity and contempt. “You condemned her for a crime she didn’t commit. We all know Laziel’s death wasn’t her doing. But the great Alpha needed a scapegoat, and an omega in heat made a convenient one.”
“That’s a serious accusation.” Carlton shifted behind me, hand moving to his weapon. Always ready to defend his king, even from grieving parents armed with nothing but words.
“Is it?” Neva’s eyes burned with maternal fury that three months of hardship hadn’t dimmed. “Tell me, Lycan King, did you even run basic forensics? Check the claw patterns against known samples? Or did you see what you wanted to see because the alternative was too hard to face?”
Each question landed with surgical precision. No, we hadn’t run detailed forensics. The scene had seemed obvious, the guilty party literally caught red-handed. Or so we’d assumed.
“Your security footage from that night. Someone deleted it.” I tried to regain control of the interrogation, though we all knew who really held power here. The person with nothing left to lose always did.
“Many things disappeared that night. Including justice.” Neva’s response came quickly and bitter.
Carlton pulled up files on his tablet, frowning at whatever he found. Or didn’t find. “The deletion was professional. Not just erased but overwritten multiple times. Whoever did it knew our system intimately.”
An inside job, then. Someone with security clearance and technical knowledge. The list of suspects narrowed considerably.
“Leave her be.” Magnus spoke quietly, but his words carried the weight of command that twenty years in politics had taught him. “Haven’t you taken enough? Her life, her future, her…”
Neva’s hand shot out, gripping his wrist in warning. But the damage was done. That unfinished sentence hung between us, pregnant with possibilities that made my chest tighten.
“Her what?” My voice came out rougher than intended.
They exchanged a look, twenty-five years of marriage compressed into a single glance. Whatever they decided, it wasn’t in my favor. Neva’s mouth pressed into a thin line while Magnus suddenly found the table’s scarred surface fascinating.
“Nothing that matters now.” Neva’s tone suggested the opposite. “She’s gone. Let her stay that way.”
But my wolf had caught something in their scents. Fear, yes, and anger. But underneath? Protective instincts cranked to maximum. They weren’t just hiding Rhea’s location. They were hiding something about Rhea herself.
The interrogation continued for another hour, but I’d already lost. They gave me nothing but contempt and carefully worded deflections. Every question about their daughter met the samestone wall of parental protection. Even threats, implied, never stated outright, bounced off their determination. They’d already lost everything. What more could I take?
By the time we left, the sun had started its early descent toward the horizon. The outback visitor center looked even more depressing in the fading light, all concrete and razor wire and broken dreams. I watched the building shrink in the rearview mirror and wondered if I’d just missed my only chance at answers.
Carlton drove while Ren typed notes on his phone, probably documenting my descent into obsession for future reference. The silence in the SUV felt suffocating, full of questions nobody wanted to voice. Like why the Lycan King was personally hunting his brother’s killer. Like why that killer’s parents seemed more afraid for her than of me.
