The Alpha’s Punishment Her Faked Death, His Ruin

They told me the search parties never recovered their bodies. For three years, I hunted through every territory, followed every cold trail—only to discover two days ago that my parents never perished at all.

Alaric had manipulated them into fleeing beyond pack borders.

Three full cycles of seasons.

He'd been intercepting my scent-messages, sending false assurances in my place, letting them believe I thrived under his protection. They had no knowledge of the existence I truly endured.

"Alaric."

I met his amber gaze directly, choosing to offer him one final opportunity.

"Is there anything you've kept hidden from me?"

He paused, then reached over to smooth the hair from my face, his touch gentle.

"Foolish little wolf. Why would I ever conceal anything from you?"

I dropped my eyes, letting the hope drain from them completely.

"Good."

After a stretched silence, I murmured, "I miss my parents."

"At first light tomorrow, I'll escort you to their memorial stones."

I pressed further—surely they'd left me something? Territory rights, bloodline artifacts, anything from the Nightveil holdings?

But Alaric's response came out fragmented, uncertain.

"Everything unraveled so fast. Before I could sort through the inheritance claims, rival packs conspired against me. I was confined to the holding cells under false accusations."

"Now I finally have the standing to investigate what truly happened back then."

His gaze shifted as he captured my hand in his.

"Lyra, perhaps your parents didn't truly die. Perhaps there's still hope."

Ha.

The three-year mark was approaching. He'd deceived me about their deaths, and now his story was unraveling beyond repair.

So he changed course—suggested there might be hope after all.

Too late. He'd already wasted his final chance.

Several days later, Alaric departed under the guise of an alliance negotiation. In truth, he was going to see Lily.

I watched the moon climb toward its peak, then scattered sleeping herbs across the den floor.

My runner arrived with word. Healer Rowan's voice carried steady through the message: "Everything's prepared."

I nodded and sent Alaric a scent-message:

"Alaric, your penance wins. You wanted to defend Lily? Fine. Take everything."

"Take my life too."

At that same moment, his message-stone hummed insistently on the bedside ledge.