246 The House That Betrayal Built
Lucian
I scooped Mara into my arms, holding her close. Her breathing was soft and steady, her skin warm against mine. She was
still fast asleep.
I needed her in our space. Away from the tension. Away from them.
The emotions in the room were running too high, Darian was seething, Martha was unraveling, Tiffany looked like she was holding her breath. And at the center of it all, two names sat like poison in the air: Lacy and Denis.
“I’m going to execute that b***h,” Darian snapped.
Tiffany flinched.
I didn’t hesitate. I linked him immediately. Calm down. Not here. Not in front of her.
He didn’t answer, but he heard me.
“I’m sure she has her reasons,” I said aloud, steady but firm. “And I doubt your mother would want her dead. She’s been
hurt enough.”
Darian glanced at me, eyes sharp with disbelief.
“We’ll interrogate Lacy, as a family. She’ll explain herself, and then we’ll deal with her. But killing her? That’s not on the
table.”
Darian looked away, jaw tight.
“The reason she didn’t want to come back here,” he muttered, “was because of what she did. She knew. She knew. I’d bet
anything she killed that staff member we found dead.”
He was probably right. But I needed to hear it from her.
Mara stirred slightly in my arms, but didn’t wake.
“Did you give her anything?” I asked, turning to Martha.
She nodded quickly. “Just something mild to help her rest. It’s safe for the baby, I promise.”
I gave a short nod. I believed her.
Darian rose, moving toward Tiffany. His rage hadn’t vanished, but it was quieter now, folded into something else. He picked up Emma gently, his hands soft on her small frame.
“Tiffany,” he said, voice low. “Let’s go to the left wing.”
She didn’t argue. She followed him out in silence.
My father stood, straightening his jacket. “No point in me staying here. I just wanted to make sure Mara was okay.”
He moved toward the door, stopping for a moment as if debating whether to say something more.
Martha stood too. She hesitated. Looking at him like a woman still hoping for a different ending.
“You can stay in my room for now,” he said, voice distant but not unkind. “Dr. Thornridge said you’ll need close monitoring. He’ll be here this evening for your session.”
She nodded, her expression unreadable. She looked smaller somehow, folded in on herself, but the way she looked at my father didn’t change.
1/3
She still loved him. That was clear.
But he didn’t look back. Whatever he once felt had been buried under too much pain, too many lies.
There were oceans between them now.
And no bridge strong enough to carry the weight of the past.
As they left the room, I adjusted Mara in my arms and started toward our wing.
I didn’t know how I was going to handle Denis.
I didn’t know what we’d hear from Lacy.
But one thing was certain, this house, this family, would never be the same.
I carried Mara to our wing, breathing her in with every step. Her scent grounded me, told me she was still here, still mine,
still safe.
In our room, I laid her gently on the bed and stood there for a second, just watching her. Peaceful. As if the chaos of the last twenty-four hours hadn’t touched her. But I knew better.
I turned toward the bathroom, needing to wash off the dried blood, sweat, and exhaustion clinging to my skin.
Under the hot spray, I leaned forward, hands braced on the wall. The steam filled the room, but it couldn’t fog up what was racing through my mind.
Chase.
Alaric.
One man.
That truth changed everything. I had been preparing for a war on two fronts, splitting my attention between shadows and ghosts. But now that the two were one, there was no need to hold back. He’d made it personal. And I was going to end
him.
Water poured down my back, but my thoughts drifted, inevitably, to Mara. Normally, this would be our moment. I’d have pulled her into the shower by now, lifted her against the wall, worshipped her until she forgot the world outside this room
even existed.
But not today.
I ran a hand through my soaked hair, then switched the water from hot to cold, trying to kill the fire burning low in my gut.
It didn’t work.
I gave up, shut the water off, and stepped out of the shower. No point torturing myself.
Wrapped in a towel, I linked Austin.
“Bring me the letter Mara got from Chase.”
He knocked a few minutes later. I cracked the door just enough to stick my arm out, snatched the envelope, muttered a ” Thanks,” and shut it before he got a glimpse of anything inappropriate. The man didn’t need to know his Alpha was battling a stubborn hard-on.
I dropped onto the edge of the bed and unfolded the letter.
Halfway through reading, I burst out laughing.
The sheer arrogance.
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Alaric had written it like a man sure of his victory, like he thought Mara would be reading it from a cage, or worse, mourning what she’d lost. The bastard even had the nerve to warn her, as if he were the one doing her a favor.
The funniest part? His goons had probably tossed the letter thinking they’d done their job, delivered the message, ticked the box. Never mind the fact that their actual mission, kidnapping three people, had failed spectacularly.
He’d underestimated us.
Again.
And it would cost him.
Still chuckling, I folded the letter and set it aside. My anger hadn’t vanished, it was sitting right beneath the laughter, but
for now, it was tempered.
I slid back onto the bed beside Mara. She stirred but didn’t wake. I wrapped an arm around her, closed my eyes, and let sleep pull me under.
Tomorrow, we’d start dealing with the fallout.
Tonight, she was safe.
And that was enough.
Trial by Fu
