Three Alphas, One Secret

chapter two

Aida's POV

The knock came just after sunrise, hard enough to rattle the front door. I was behind the counter, counting the money the Blackthorn warriors had paid me, when every conversation in the common room stopped. The two warriors who had spent the night guarding their injured prisoner exchanged a look before one of them hurried to open the door.

“Alpha Kieran.”

The name alone was enough to make the room go quiet.

I had never spoken to him before, but I knew what people said about the Blackthorn Alpha. He had inherited his position young and kept it through a combination of ruthless decisions and a reputation for never forgiving betrayal. Even the other Alphas thought twice before challenging him.

He stepped inside, removed his gloves, and surveyed the room. His gaze passed over the customers before settling on the muddy footprints near the staircase.

“Where is the prisoner?”

“Upstairs, Alpha,” one of his warriors answered.

Kieran started toward the stairs, then paused when he noticed me standing behind the counter.

“You own this inn?” he asked and I nodded my head. “Did the prisoner speak to you last night?”

My fingers tightened around the coins. “He was barely conscious.”

“That wasn't what I asked.”

I lowered my eyes briefly, buying myself time. I wasn't accustomed to being questioned by men who expected every answer to be delivered immediately, but I knew better than to mistake silence for safety.

“He said something I couldn't understand.”

“What did he say?”

I remembered his desperate grip on my sleeve and the fear in his eyes. “It wasn't important,” I replied.

Kieran's expression hardened. “I'll decide that.”

He turned and continued upstairs. After a brief hesitation, I followed. I wanted to know why a powerful Alpha had come personally to question an injured stranger, and I had a terrible feeling that his answer would involve my inn.

The prisoner lay in the same bed where we had left him, his bandages stained with fresh blood. Kieran approached him while his warriors remained near the door.

“Wake him.”

One of the men shook the prisoner's shoulder. There was no response.

Kieran checked his pulse, then examined the wounds along his ribs. His face revealed nothing, but the room seemed to grow colder as the seconds passed.

“How long has he been like this?”

“He was breathing normally an hour ago,” a warrior answered. “We checked on him twice.”

Kieran looked toward the closed window. “And nobody entered this room?”

“No, Alpha.”

He pulled back the blanket and examined the man's hands. There was dirt beneath his fingernails, along with a dark substance that looked almost like dried blood.

Then Kieran noticed something tucked beneath the pillow. He drew out a small piece of black cloth. A silver symbol had been stitched into it, its unfamiliar design resembling three curved claws surrounding a circle.

For the first time, his composure slipped.

“Where did you find this man?” he demanded.

“Near the eastern boundary.”

“Who else knows he's here?”

“Only our patrol and the people at the inn.” The warrior answered.

Kieran folded the cloth and placed it inside his coat. “Nobody leaves until I say so.”

A cold feeling settled in my stomach. “Alpha, my guests have nothing to do with this.”

He turned toward me. “Then you won't mind helping me establish that.”

“I'll answer your questions, but you cannot keep innocent people here indefinitely.”

His gaze fixed on mine, and I felt the full weight of his presence press against my instincts. My wolf urged me to lower my head. I fought the impulse, though my pulse had begun to race.

“Look at me,” he commanded. I was already looking at him.

Something changed in his expression when I didn't flinch. His eyes narrowed slightly, as though he had expected my body to obey him before my mind could object.

“Interesting,” he murmured. I didn't ask what he meant.

A sudden movement on the bed interrupted us. The prisoner's fingers twitched, and his eyes opened halfway. I moved closer before one of the warriors could stop me.

“Can you hear me?” I asked.

His gaze wandered across the room until it found my face. Fear flooded his expression. He tried to lift his hand, but it fell back against the mattress.

“The door,” he rasped and my breath caught.

Kieran leaned over him. “What door? Who sent you?”

The prisoner's eyes widened. His lips moved, but before he could answer, every window in the room rattled violently.

The lamps went out. Someone swore in the darkness. I heard the scrape of a chair, the sound of boots striking the floor, and then a sharp cry from beside the bed.

When the light returned, Kieran had drawn a knife but the prisoner was gone. The blankets lay twisted on the mattress, and a dark smear of blood marked the floor beside it. The window remained locked from the inside. The room had only one entrance, and Kieran's warriors had been standing directly outside it.

“Search the building!” Kieran ordered.

I remained beside the bed, staring at the blood. It wasn't enough to suggest the man had dragged himself anywhere, and there were no footprints leading to the window.

Then I noticed the smell of damp earth, cold stone, and something metallic that reminded me of the basement after heavy rain.

Kieran noticed my expression. “What is it?”

“Nothing.”

He stepped closer. “You expect me to believe that?”

I swallowed. “I don't know what happened.”

“Then explain why you look as though you recognize it.”

“I don't.”

He caught my wrist, turning my hand slightly as he examined the faint red marks left by the prisoner the night before. His grip wasn't painful, but I couldn't ignore how easily he had stopped me from pulling away.

“Did he give you something?”

“No.”

“Did he tell you where he was going?”

“No.”

“Did he mention the basement?”

My heart stumbled and Kieran saw it. Before he could speak again, a warrior appeared at the doorway, his face pale.

“Alpha. You need to see this.”

We followed him downstairs. The common room had emptied, and the front door stood open despite the cold wind outside. The warrior led us to the narrow passage beside the kitchen, where the basement door stood at the end.

I stopped walking.

The lock was still in place, but the wood around it had split. Fresh scratches covered the door, and a thin line of dark liquid trickled from beneath the threshold.

Kieran crouched to inspect it. When he touched the liquid, he rubbed it between his fingers and went very still.

“What is it?” I whispered.

He rose slowly and looked at me. “Blood.”

I stared at the door. I had locked it myself the night before. Nobody had a key except me, and I had never given one to the warriors.

Kieran reached for the handle.

“Don't,” I blurted.

He stopped.

The silence that followed was worse than the shouting upstairs.

“Why?” he asked.

I had no answer that made sense. I only knew that the moment his fingers approached the handle, a deep, heavy thud sounded from the other side.

The door trembled beneath his hand then something struck it again. Kieran drew his knife, placing himself between me and the door as another impact shook the wooden frame.

From somewhere beneath our feet came a sound that made the blood drain from my face. A man's voice, muffled by the thick wood, whispered my name.

“Aida.”

Kieran turned toward me. “Tell me,” he said, his voice dangerously quiet, “what have you been hiding beneath this inn?”