The wife he gave away

Untitled EpisodeChapter38

Who killed him?

When news of Elder Magnus’ death reached me, I almost convinced myself that I had misheard. Because Magnus was not supposed to die. Not yet. Not like that. I had spent time with him, I had studied him carefully, and I had left his residence alive knowing that although he had refused me, he was not a man who would be easily removed from the board. And yet, the pack now whispered his name like a broken prayer, as though death had come for him far sooner than anyone had anticipated.

I turned slowly, my thoughts already moving faster than my expression could follow, and as I did so I found myself asking the same question over and over again in my mind without answering it. Who killed him?

It was not Tobias, at least not in the way Alaric would suspect. It was not Alaric himself, because Magnus’s death served no immediate advantage to him. And it was certainly not me, because I had left Magnus breathing, standing, and defiant, still foolish enough to believe that loyalty could protect him from the kind of pressure I was capable of applying. So if I had not done it, and if Alaric had no reason to do it, then someone else had stepped into a space I had already begun to influence.

The thought unsettled me more than I expected, not because it threatened my plans directly, but because it meant there was a third force moving inside this pack that I had not accounted for. And in my experience, unseen forces were always the most dangerous.

The door to my chamber opened abruptly before I could continue my thoughts, and Dominic stepped inside without waiting for permission. His expression was tense, his jaw tight, and his eyes carried a kind of frustration that I had learned to recognize immediately. It was the look of a man who had already made up his mind about something and only came to confirm it before acting.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t hear,” he said immediately, shutting the door behind him.

“I heard,” I replied calmly, even though my mind was still turning over possibilities.

He stepped closer, his voice lowering slightly as though he was afraid of being overheard even in my own chamber. “Elder Magnus is dead.”

“Yes,” I said simply.

Dominic studied me for a moment, and then his expression hardened.

“You killed him.”

The accusation came out directly, without hesitation, and for a moment I simply stared at him as though trying to understand whether he was speaking from anger or stupidity. Then I laughed once, short and sharp, because the idea itself was almost insulting.

“I didn’t kill him,” I said clearly.

Dominic did not relax. Instead, he stepped closer.

“You were the last person seen with him,” he replied, his tone rising slightly now. “I know because I followed you. I saw you enter his residence. The same day you went there, he ended up dead.”

My expression tightened immediately.

“And you think that makes me a murderer?” I asked, my voice dropping.

“Yes,” he said without flinching. “Because you always appear where things go wrong, and then somehow everything benefits you afterward.”

For a moment, anger rose inside me—not fear, not guilt, but pure irritation at how easily he connected coincidence to intention. I took a slow breath, forcing myself to remain composed, because Dominic was not useful to me if he lost trust in me completely.

“I did not kill Magnus,” I repeated firmly. “If I had wanted him gone, he would not have been given the dignity of a warning, or the time to breathe long enough to refuse me.”

Dominic hesitated at that. Just slightly. I saw it. It was not belief yet, but it was uncertainty. He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair as frustration replaced certainty in his expression.

“Then who did?” he asked quietly.

That question hung between us heavily, because it was the same question I had been asking myself since the moment I heard the news.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my tone controlled but honest.

For the first time, Dominic looked unsettled in a different way. Not angry. Not accusing. He was just as confused as I was, because people like him expected answers from people like me. And I did not have one.

We stood in silence for a moment, both of us thinking, both of us weighing possibilities, and I could tell from his expression that he was already trying to build explanations in his mind. Names. Motives. Patterns. But every conclusion seemed to collapse under its own uncertainty, because Magnus was not a man easily killed without consequence.

“Someone inside the pack did this,” he said slowly.

“Yes,” I replied.

“But who?”

“I don’t know yet.”

His gaze narrowed again slightly, but this time he did not accuse me. Instead, he asked, “What do we do now?”

And that was where control returned to me.

“Now,” I said calmly, “we find out what Magnus saw in his final moments. Because dying men do not speak without reason.”

Dominic nodded slowly, still unsure but no longer openly hostile.

Without another word, I turned and left my chamber, heading toward the dungeon beneath the pack halls. The guards at the entrance immediately stiffened when they saw me, and one of them stepped forward to block my path before recognizing me and quickly lowering his head.

“I need to question Tobias,” I said simply.

The guard hesitated. “The Alpha ordered—”

“I am aware of what the Alpha ordered,” I interrupted smoothly. “And I am also aware that information can save lives. Open the door.”

After a brief pause, the gates were unlocked, and I was allowed inside.

The dungeon was colder than the rest of the pack, damp with the smell of stone and iron, and as I walked through the narrow corridor, I could hear the distant sound of restrained movement and quiet breathing from other cells. Tobias was brought forward immediately, his wrists still bound, his face pale with exhaustion and fear. He looked up at me as though expecting judgment, and for a brief moment I could see that he had already accepted that no one believed him.

“I didn’t do it,” he said quickly before I even spoke.

“I know,” I replied calmly.

That alone made him freeze.

I stepped closer. “Tell me exactly what happened when you entered Magnus’s house.”

Tobias swallowed hard, glancing at the guards before speaking.

“I told you already,” he said. “He summoned me. When I arrived, he was already on the ground. There was blood everywhere. I tried to help him, but he grabbed my arm and then… then he stopped speaking.”

I studied him carefully. “Did you see anyone else?”

He shook his head quickly. “No. No one.”

“Did you hear anything unusual before you entered?”

“No,” he said again. “Only silence.”

I watched him for a long moment, then slowly leaned closer.

“If you are telling the truth,” I said quietly, “I can help you get out of here.”

His eyes widened immediately. “You can?”

“I am capable of even more,” I replied.

Hope flickered across his face for the first time.

“But I need something in return,” I added.

“What?”

“The truth.”

He nodded quickly. “I swear, I’ve told you everything I know.”

For a moment, I believed him. Or at least, I believed he believed himself. I turned slightly as though preparing to leave, but before I reached the door, Tobias suddenly spoke again.

“Wait,” he said quickly.

I paused.

He hesitated, then continued in a lower voice. “There was something… strange.”

I turned back slowly. “What?”

He swallowed hard. “When I entered, Magnus wasn’t alone in the house.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

Tobias looked up at me, his voice dropping even further. “I heard another voice… just before I walked in.”

The cell felt colder instantly.

And for the first time since Magnus’ death, I felt something unfamiliar rise inside me.

“Whose voice?.”