Misguided Wolves

23. Shadows of Truth

Kyle urged his horse to a relentless gallop, the wind tearing through Vargr’s forests as he raced back to the castle. He arrived in record time, but a heavy unease cloaked the air, an unnameable dread he couldn’t pinpoint. At the entrance, his gaze fell on the stone floor where Ara had cradled an unconscious Kate, a pool of blood searing his memory despite the maids’ efforts to scrub it clean. Rage surged as he recalled Ara’s frantic account of Elliott’s rejection and the miscarriage that followed, his guilt gnawing—if he’d been seconds faster, he might have stopped it.

The sharp click of heels jolted him from his thoughts. Deborah sauntered in, her golden eyes glinting with disdain as she stared at the spot where Kate had fallen. “It took the maids forever to clean that traitor’s blood,” she sneered, her voice dripping venom. “At least she ruined that hideous rug your aunt loved. Something good came of it.”

Kyle’s fists clenched, a growl rumbling in his chest. His wolf surged, craving to tear into her, but he held back, stunned by her cruelty. How could Sumner be so blind to his wife? Before he could retort, Sumner appeared, possessively wrapping an arm around Deborah’s waist.

“Nice of you to show up, Kyle,” Sumner said, his tone clipped. “It’s been chaotic. Is Elliott with you?”

Kyle frowned, confusion prickling. “No. Hasn’t he returned?”

Deborah placed a hand on her chest, her golden eyes pooling with crocodile tears. “Not since the poor man rejected that traitor,” she said, voice thick with false pity. “I can’t imagine what he’s enduring! How could she betray her mate like that? I’d never dream of it.” She buried her face in Sumner’s chest, who rubbed her back soothingly.

Kyle’s headache pulsed, his wolf snarling for control. Deborah’s act was sickening, her sly glance—devilish eyes and a sneer—confirming her manipulation. Sumner, oblivious, met Kyle’s gaze. “When you find Elliott, tell him we need a meeting.”

As Sumner led Deborah away, Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose, Hova’s warning echoing: Don’t let the twins win, or history will repeat itself. He had to find his cousin before Castiel and Deborah’s lies tightened their grip.

Kyle started at Elliott’s cottage, expecting it empty. The space was barren, no trace of Kate’s presence—her gifts, her scent, erased by the twins’ thoroughness. Kyle scoffed, their cunning infuriating. A floorboard creaked behind him. He spun, finding Elliott, naked, drenched in sweat and dirt, his eyes a startling amber—not the piercing blue of his human form, but Leo’s, his wolf in full control.

“Leo, let me talk to Elliott,” Kyle demanded.

Leo bared his canines, voice rough. “He doesn’t want to talk. Neither do I. Leave.”

“For Fenrir’s sake, Leo!” Kyle snapped, frustration boiling. “You don’t know everything! You fool!”

Leo growled, slumping into a chair, his claws digging into the table. “I wasn’t privy to that rejection. That snake convinced him not to trust my angel. Elliott listened to the bastard.”

“What snake? Castiel?” Kyle asked, running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” Leo spat. “Said Kate was sleeping with someone to leak secrets north. She’d never do that, but Elliott wouldn’t listen. Shut me out!”

Leo’s claws gouged deeper, splintering the wood. “Castiel’s a liar! He had something on Elliott—knew him somehow. A puppet for that snake and his twin!”

Leo recounted the days leading to the rejection: Castiel’s accusations, the prisoner Ella’s lies, and Elliott’s torment. After rejecting Kate, Elliott had shifted, fleeing to the woods, blocking even Leo, surrendering control as if he’d given up. Kyle sighed. “At least you see through Castiel and Deborah’s act. Can you reach Elliott? There’s something he needs to know.”

Leo shook his head, defeated. “I’m trying, but the stubborn fool’s gone silent. Might need a witch doctor. What’s so important?”

Kyle hesitated, the miscarriage too heavy to share without Elliott present. “I’ll tell you when he’s back. Trust me, it’s better that way. Keep your anger in check—we need a plan and evidence against those twins. Their allies might not notice your eyes. We can use that, old friend. Get dressed. Sumner says Sol wants a meeting.”

****

The meeting convened swiftly in Sol’s study. Leo, in Elliott’s form, leaned against the wall, arms folded, amber eyes hidden in the shadows. Sumner and Castiel sat before Sol’s desk, where the alpha folded his hands, his presence commanding.

“Glad you followed my advice, son,” Sol said, addressing Leo as Elliott. “Rejecting that girl was wise, though not easy. Fenrir will bless you with a worthier mate.”

Leo bit his cheek, tasting blood, barely containing his rage. The dark corner concealed his amber eyes, and he offered no response. Sol continued, undeterred. “Charles of Vintr requests troops for the war. Castiel, enlighten us.”

Castiel’s green eyes gleamed briefly, a flicker of something unnatural, before he spoke. “My father, King Charles, is confident but seeks Vargr’s warriors as a safeguard. His forces have seized outer towns near the border, advancing on the castle. With your troops, we’ll take it by force, kill the king, and take the queen as a concubine—if she complies—for a smoother transition. We’ll try to spare the princess, despite her… treachery.” He glanced at Leo, probing for a reaction.

Leo’s poker face held, though his wolf snarled within, seeing through Castiel’s lies. Kate had explained Fror’s plight—Vintr’s aggression, not hers. How could Sol and Sumner be so blind?

Sol pondered, stroking his chin. “We must aid our allies with minimal bloodshed. I’ll lead the troops. Sumner, you’ll act as alpha in my absence. Keep your wife from clashing with your mother. Elliott, select the best warriors to join me and train those who stay.”

“Fine,” Leo grunted, voice low.

Sol waved them off. As Leo turned, Castiel’s hand gripped his shoulder, his grin devilish. “Good to have you back. Keep my half-sister Jody company while I’m gone. She’s young, but she’ll keep you warm—and she's pure.”

Kyle, appearing just in time, cut in. “Castiel, Elliott’s a gentleman. He’d treat Jody with respect.”

Castiel frowned, irked. “Just a suggestion. A man has needs, Kyle. You’d know, playboy.”

Kyle waved dismissively, steering Leo away. “Yes, yes, I’m a dog with no self-control. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”

Outside, Leo’s fists clenched. “How do people tolerate that bastard? I miss when I could shut out this nonsense.”

“Quiet,” Kyle hissed. “I found a witch to help—Hova’s contact, the one who aided Kate when she was… sick. She needs a favor first, and it’ll take time to prepare.”

Leo growled, amber eyes flashing. Elliott, you better stop hiding and come back, you coward. Playing proper isn’t my thing.