Chapter 17 Harkan #2
Aldric's jaw worked. For a moment, I thought he wouldn't answer.
Then, he said, "Because the last time someone defied the High Alpha to protect someone they loved, it got them chained in darkness for a century."
The room went very still.
"What the fuck do you know about that?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.
"I know what everyone knows." Aldric's gaze met mine, and for the first time, something other than hostility flashed there.
Something almost like pity. "That your sister was killed by an assassin from a rival pack.
That you lost yourself avenging her. That your father chained you as punishment for—"
"That's not what I'm asking." I was on my feet, though I didn't remember standing. "What do you know, Aldric?"
He was silent for a long moment. Then, quietly, he began to speak: "I would never work for the High Alpha. Not after what he did to Helene."
The world tilted.
What he did to Helene.
"Explain." The word came out in a growl that shook the walls.
Aldric's face had gone pale, but he didn't back down. "It wasn't a rival pack, Alpha. The assassin—he was paid by your father. The whole thing was orchestrated from the beginning."
I wanted to throw up. I wanted to claw his face off and make him eat it. I wanted…
"You're lying."
But even as I said it, I looked at Sable. Her face had gone white as chalk, her hands gripping Trouble so hard the fox whimpered.
"He's not," she whispered, her eyes filling as pure devastation colored her every feature. "Harkan, he's telling the truth."
The bond between us pulsed with her certainty. Cold and absolute and devastating.
"Why?" The question tore out of me. "Why would my father have his own daughter killed?"
Aldric swallowed. "Because Helene made you stronger. She was your anchor, your conscience, the one person who could pull you back from the edge. As long as she lived, you would never be the weapon he wanted you to be. You would never be broken enough to control."
The room was spinning. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think.
He killed her. Our father killed her. He murdered our twin to break us, and it worked, it WORKED—
The wolf was howling, a sound of such grief and rage that I wasn't sure if it was in my head or tearing from my actual throat.
"Harkan." Sable's voice, cutting through the chaos. Her hand on my arm, grounding me. "Harkan, look at me."
I forced my eyes to focus on her face.
"Breathe," she said, the same word I'd used on her last night. "We're going to deal with this. But right now, I need you to breathe."
I breathed. It didn't help. But I did it, anyway.
"How long have you known?" I asked Aldric, my voice like broken glass.
"Years. Rumors at first, then... confirmation. From sources in your father's court." He spread his hands. "I never told you because what good would it do? You were already broken. Already chained. The truth would only have driven you mad."
He wasn't wrong. If I'd known, locked in that darkness with nothing but my rage and grief for company... I would have lost myself entirely.
But that didn't make it better.
"Get out," I said.
Aldric stood slowly. At the door, he paused.
"For what it's worth, Alpha... I don't want to see history repeat itself." His eyes flicked to Sable. "The High Alpha took your sister to break you. Don't let him take your mate, too."
Then he was gone.
Three more interrogations passed in a blur.
Tomas—truth. Jessa—truth. Keir—truth.
I was barely present for any of them, my mind still reeling from Aldric's revelation. Sable handled the questions with a calm efficiency that I distantly admired, her gift working flawlessly even as the bond between us thrummed with my anguish.
She was protecting me. Taking on the burden because I couldn't carry it right now.
Mate, the wolf whispered, and for once there was no smugness in it. Just gratitude.
Then Maren walked in.
She was younger than I'd expected—mid-twenties, maybe, with sharp features and nervous eyes that darted around the room before settling on Sable with barely concealed hostility.
"Sit," Cara ordered.
Maren sat. Her hands were trembling.
"Did you plant the explosive device in the watchtower?" Sable asked, her voice neutral.
"No."
Sable went very still.
Through the bond, I felt it—the taste of rot, of decay, of something bitter and wrong coating her tongue. Her gift, identifying a lie.
"Ask again," I growled.
"Did you plant the explosive device in the watchtower?" Sable repeated.
"I said no!" Maren's voice rose. "I didn't do anything!"
The rot taste intensified. Sable's expression hardened.
"You're lying." It wasn't a question. "I can taste it. Every word out of your mouth is dripping with deceit."
Maren's face went white. Then red. Her eyes darted to the door, calculating her chances.
"Don't," Cara said softly, her hand on her blade. "You won't make it three steps."
"You don't understand." Maren's composure cracked, desperation bleeding through. "He said—Rafe said if I helped, the High Alpha would protect me. Would give me a place in his pack, a real position, not just—"
"Not just what?" I was in front of her before I realized I'd moved. "Not just the pack that sheltered you? Fed you? Protected you?"
"This pack is weak." The words spat out of her like venom. "You let a witch walk around like she belongs here. You mate with an outsider while the High Alpha builds an empire. Anyone with sense can see which side is going to win."
"So you blew up a building." Sable's voice was ice. "Injured six pack members. Nearly killed a child. For a position?"
"The child wasn't supposed to be there! The tower was supposed to be empty, Rafe said—"
"Rafe used you." Sable stood, and even injured, even smaller than everyone else in the room, she radiated a fury that made Maren shrink back. "He used your resentment and your ambition, and when this is over, he'll throw you away like garbage. That's what men like him do."
"You don't know anything about—"
"I know everything." Sable's voice cracked like a whip.
"I spent thirteen years as Varro's slave, and who the fuck do you think gave me to him?
I know exactly how they operate. They find the weak, the angry, the desperate, and they make promises they never intend to keep.
You're not special, Maren. You're just useful. Or at least you were."
Maren's face crumpled.
The door burst open.
Petra stood in the doorway, her face ashen, her eyes fixed on Maren with an expression of horror.
"Is it true?" Her voice shook. "You—you actually—"
"Petra, I was doing it for us!" Maren's desperation turned pleading. "For everyone who sees what the witch really is! I was trying to protect—"
"You nearly killed Lyra." Petra's voice was barely a whisper. "She's eight years old, Maren. She's eight."
"I didn't mean—"
"I don't give a fuck what you meant." Something in Petra's expression shifted. Hardened. "I wanted the witch gone. I made that clear. But this?" She shook her head slowly. "This isn't what I wanted. This was never what I wanted."
She turned to me, and for the first time since Sable arrived, there was no hostility in her gaze. Just grief. And shame.
"Do what you have to do, Alpha. I won't interfere."
Then she walked out.
Silence descended on the room.
"What happens now?" Maren's voice was small. Broken.
I looked at her—this woman who had betrayed everything I'd built, who had nearly killed a child and injured six of my pack, who had done it all for promises from a man who would never keep them.
"Now," I said quietly, "you face the consequences."
Kill her, the wolf snarled. She hurt OUR pack. She could have killed our MATE.
He wasn't wrong. The old laws were clear: betrayal was punishable by death.
But Sable's hand found mine, and through the bond, I felt her exhaustion, her grief, her complicated tangle of emotions about justice and mercy and the fine line between them.
"Imprisonment," I decided. "Until after the Mating Moon. Then she faces pack judgment. Everyone will have a voice in her fate."
Cara nodded, already moving to take Maren into custody.
"And Harkan?" Sable's voice was soft. "Your father—"
"I know." The words came out hollow. Empty. "I know what he did. And I know what I have to do."
Three days until the Mating Moon.
Three days until I faced the man who murdered my sister to break me.
And this time, I wouldn't be broken.
I'd be ready.