I don't come back to my Alpha again

"Take off the apron, Rebecca," I said.

Rebecca touched the floral fabric, her smile widening. "But I made dinner. Marcus loves my roast."

"It belonged to my mother," I replied, my voice completely flat.

Marcus stepped past me, dropping his keys on the console table. "Stop starting fights, Bella. It's just a piece of cloth."

"She killed them," I stated.

Kevin scoffed from the stairs. "You're still telling that lie?"

I tilted my head, studying my fifteen-year-old son. His jaw was set tight. He believed his own words.

"I guess we are," I murmured.

The smell of the roast beef drifted from the kitchen, mixing with Rebecca's heavy vanilla perfume. It made my stomach turn. It slammed me right back into the cold, damp stone of the Pack House basement five years ago.

I had been sitting in the dark cell below these very floorboards. I was ready to starve. My parents, the loyal Pack Betas, were dead. I thought my fated mate, Marcus, had locked me up for my own good. I thought my drunken rage had torn their throats out.

Then the heavy iron door above had cracked open. Voices drifted down the air vent.

"Are we really doing this?" Marcus asked, pacing the floorboards above me. "Lying to Bella? Her parents were loyal."

I crawled toward the vent, pressing my ear against the cold metal.

"Marcus, my health is fragile," Rebecca cried softly. "I didn't mean to run them off the road. I panicked. Would you really send me to prison?"

"They were her family, Rebecca."

"And I am your future," she pleaded. "Bella has Alpha blood. The rogues in the forbidden zone won't dare touch her. She'll be perfectly safe."

My hands shook. The truth hit me like a physical blow. I wasn't a murderer. She was.

"Open the door!" I screamed, slamming my fists into the basement bars.

The voices upstairs stopped. Footsteps hurried down the concrete steps. Marcus appeared, holding a ring of keys. Rebecca hid behind his broad shoulders.

"Let me out!" I snarled.

"Bella, calm down," Marcus ordered.

"You killed them!" I shoved my arm through the bars, trying to grab Rebecca's dress. "You murdered my parents!"

Marcus unlocked the door, shoving me backward. "You're having a mental break."

Fur ripped through my skin. My bones cracked. I didn't care about the silver chains binding my ankles. I summoned my wolf, baring my fangs at the woman who destroyed my life.

"I will tear you apart!" I roared.

I lunged.

"Stop her!" Marcus yelled.

Four guards flooded the basement, pinning my arms. I thrashed, snapping my jaws toward Rebecca's neck. She whimpered, clinging to Marcus.

"Mom?"

The small voice froze the blood in my veins.

I stopped fighting the guards. I turned my head.

Kevin stood at the bottom of the stairs. His nanny held his hand. He was ten years old.

"Kevin," I choked out, shifting back to my human form. "Tell them. Tell them I didn't do it."

The boy looked at me. His eyes were completely dry. No tears. No fear.

"I saw mom kill my grandparents with my own eyes," Kevin said clearly.

The basement fell dead silent.

"What?" I whispered.

Kevin pointed a small finger right at my chest. "She is my mom. I wouldn't lie."

"Kevin, who told you to say that?" I begged, dropping to my knees. The silver chains burned my skin. "Please!"

"Take her to the forbidden zone," Marcus commanded, turning his back on me.

"Bella?" Rebecca's voice snapped me back to the present.

I blinked. The grand foyer of the Pack House came into sharp focus.

Rebecca stood in front of me, waving a perfectly manicured hand in front of my face. "Did you hear me? I asked if you wanted to wash up before dinner."

I looked at her hand. Then I looked at Kevin, still standing on the stairs with his heavy textbook.

I laughed.

It started as a low chuckle in my chest and grew into a loud, echoing sound that bounced off the high ceiling.

Marcus grabbed my uninjured arm. "What is wrong with you?"

I pulled my arm free. I didn't scream. I didn't shift.

"Nothing," I smiled. I looked directly into Rebecca's eyes. "I'm perfectly fine. Your roast smells wonderful."

Rebecca stepped back, her smug expression faltering. She glanced at Marcus nervously.

"Go to your room, Kevin," Marcus ordered.

"I need to eat," the teenager argued.

"Now," Marcus barked.

Kevin rolled his eyes, turning around and trudging up the stairs. His bedroom door slammed shut a moment later.

"You're acting crazy," Marcus muttered, running a hand through his hair. "Go upstairs. The guest room at the end of the hall is yours."

"The guest room?" I asked.

"Rebecca and I share the master suite," he replied, lifting his chin. "Obviously."

"Obviously," I repeated.

"I'll bring a plate up to you," Rebecca offered, recovering her sweet tone. "You must be starving. The rogues don't leave much food in the forbidden zone, do they?"

"They leave plenty of bones," I said.

I walked past her, my bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. I didn't step on the rug.

I climbed the grand staircase, my hand trailing over the polished banister. The wound on my bicep throbbed, sending hot spikes of pain down to my fingertips.

I reached the second-floor landing and walked to the end of the hall. The guest room door was slightly open.

I pushed it wide.

The room was completely bare. No sheets on the mattress. No curtains on the windows. A thick layer of dust coated the dresser.

"Make yourself comfortable," Marcus called out from the bottom of the stairs.

I walked inside and shut the door behind me. The lock clicked into place.

I leaned against the wood, sliding down until I hit the floor. I pressed my hands over my face.

They thought I was broken. They thought five years in the caves had turned me into a submissive, mindless shell.

A sharp knock banged against the door.

"Mom," Kevin's voice came through the wood.

I dropped my hands. I didn't answer.

"I know you're sitting right there," he said.

"What do you want, Kevin?" I asked, keeping my voice steady.

"Leave," he demanded. "Pack whatever garbage you brought and get out of this house."

"I am your mother."

"Rebecca is my mother," Kevin shot back. "She raised me. You just ruined everything."

A strange calmness washed over me. The maternal instinct that used to bleed for him suddenly turned to ice.

"Did she tell you to say that?" I asked.

"I don't need anyone to tell me anything," he spat. "You're a murderer."

"You know what you saw that night, Kevin," I said softly.

Silence stretched through the hallway.

"I saw a monster," he finally whispered.

Footsteps retreated down the hall. A door slammed.

I pushed myself up from the floor and walked over to the bare window. The moon hung low over the Pack territory, casting long shadows across the lawn.

My parents were buried somewhere out there. In unmarked graves.

I touched my bleeding arm. The rogue's venom from two days ago still coursed through my veins, hot and sharp. I closed my eyes, feeling my wolf stir beneath the surface. She wasn't dead. She was just waiting.

A floorboard creaked outside my bedroom door.

Someone was standing in the hall.

I opened my eyes, staring at the brass doorknob.

It slowly began to turn.