8
1023 Words
Alpha Asher POV
An hour had passed since I sent Jaden away. Exactly one hour. I didn’t look at the clock; I didn’t need to. Time obeyed me, or at least it tried to.
I sat behind the massive ebony desk in my private office on the top floor of Royal Corporations. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the glittering city lights of the North Pack capital. The room smelled of aged leather, polished wood, and the faint metallic tang of power. My domain. My prison.
The documents in front of me blurred. Contracts, merger proposals, border patrol reports—none of it mattered right now. My mind kept drifting back to the parking garage. To her. To the way her body had gone still beneath mine, the way her tears had soaked my collar, the way she’d walked away barefoot and broken but with her spine straight. I hated that image. Hated that I couldn’t erase it.
The door opened without a knock. Only one person dared enter like that.
Jaden strode in, shoulders squared, expression tight. He stopped three paces from the desk and bowed his head slightly.
“Alpha Asher. I’ve looked into the matter as you requested.”
I didn’t lift my eyes from the papers. “And?”
He hesitated—just a fraction of a second, but I caught it. Jaden never hesitated.
“Well…” He shifted his weight. “It seems that… Miss Callie secretly put pressure on the dungeon using your seal.”
My fingers stilled on the page.
“Callie Voss?” The name tasted like ash.
Jaden nodded once. “Yes, sir.”
The Voss and Royal families had been intertwined for generations. Old alliances forged in blood and territory wars. Callie Voss—eldest daughter, golden child, polished perfection—was the chosen bride. My grandmother, Master Royal, had arranged it years ago. The wedding was set for next month. A union to strengthen borders, secure timberlands, and silence the elders who whispered about my refusal to produce heirs.
I felt nothing for her but contempt. Disgust. She was beautiful in the way statues are beautiful—cold, untouchable, and empty inside. Every touch from her felt like obligation. Every smile like a transaction.
“Did Lucas offend her in any way?” I asked, voice flat.
“No.” Jaden’s tone darkened. “I believe it was because of Miss Nylah.”
My gaze finally lifted. “Nylah?”
“Miss Nylah Steven. Callie’s younger sister. Lucas Hudson is her college classmate. Top grades, handsome, popular. Nylah developed an obsession. She confessed her feelings to him publicly. He refused—politely, from what witnesses said. She didn’t take rejection well.”
I leaned back in the chair. The leather creaked under my weight.
“So she plotted revenge,” I said slowly. “And used my name—my seal—to throw an innocent man in a cell. Because her pride was bruised.”
Jaden’s jaw tightened. “Yes, sir. The order was forged using a duplicate seal. Callie signed off on it personally. She told the dungeon warden it was your direct command. No one questioned it. Who would?”
The room felt colder.
“She is so young,” I murmured, “but so vicious.”
Nylah couldn’t have been more than nineteen. Spoiled, entitled, cruel. And Callie—my fiancée—had enabled it. Covered for her sister. Abused my authority to punish a boy who’d dared say no.
The anger came slow at first, then hot and sharp, like a blade sliding between ribs.
I thought of Hazel again. Of her voice cracking as she told me the story in the car. Of her red-rimmed eyes accusing me of ruining her family. She hadn’t been wrong—not entirely. My name had been the weapon, even if I hadn’t pulled the trigger.
I straightened my cufflinks, the silver clicking softly. The motion grounded me.
“Then what should we do about Lucas, sir?”
The image flashed again—unbidden. Hazel curled against me in the aftermath, not in surrender but in exhaustion. Her soft gasps, her trembling fingers clutching my shirt. The way she’d looked at me before she left: not with hate, but with weary resignation. Like she expected nothing from the world anymore.
Darkness stirred behind my eyes.
“Go to the dungeon,” I said quietly. “Prepare the release papers. Full exoneration. Compensation for the family. And make sure the warden understands that this never happened again.”
Jaden nodded. “And Miss Callie? Miss Nylah?”
I stood slowly. The chair rolled back with a whisper.
“I’ll handle them myself.”
I reached into my pocket and pulled out my phone. Scrolled to the number Jaden had pulled from the hotel security footage—an unregistered burner, but traceable. Hazel’s.
I pressed call.
It rang twice.
She answered on the third ring. Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper.
“Hello?”
“Hazel.” I kept my tone even. “I’m going to the dungeon now. You should come too.”
Silence stretched on the line. I could hear her breathing—shallow, unsteady.
“Why?” she asked finally.
“Because your brother is coming home tonight.”
Another beat of silence.
Then, softly: “I’ll be there.”
She hung up.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket and looked at Jaden.
“Car. Now.”
He bowed and left without another word.
I crossed to the window and stared out at the city. Lights twinkled below like distant stars. Somewhere out there, Hazel was pulling herself together—probably still aching, still bleeding inside—rushing to the one place she’d begged never to see again.
I thought of Callie. Of the wedding date circled on calendars across two packs. Of the vows I’d never wanted to speak.
I thought of Nylah’s smug little smile I’d seen in photos during the investigation—pretty, cruel, untouchable.
Not anymore.
The elevator dinged behind me. Jaden waited.
I turned away from the window.
“Let’s go.”
- Writer
