Half-Truths, Half -Lies
1073 Words
Dean approached Jairo and Laura, his boots crunching lightly on the gravel, blood still staining the front of his shirt. Behind him, two warriors dragged the rogues—bloodied, battered, barely conscious. One of them limped heavily, leaving a thin trail of blood. No one paid it any mind. Their fate now rested in the Alpha’s hands.
Jairo stood rigid near the front porch, arms folded. He barely glanced at the captives before locking eyes on Dean.
“Alpha,” Dean said, bowing slightly. “Laura.”
Laura offered a quiet, "Dean." Her voice was calm, but something unreadable passed between them.
Jairo growled low in his throat. “Dean,” he replied flatly, his eyes narrowing. “Did you catch them?”
Dean gave a curt nod, and the warriors pushed the rogues forward into the light. Montserrat, standing just behind Jairo, turned—and froze.
Her breath hitched. “Alice?” she said, voice cracking.
Her feet moved on their own, but before she could reach them, Jairo grabbed her arm. Shock and confusion danced in her eyes as she glanced at her father, then back to the girl.
Alice looked like a ghost from another life—petite, disheveled, her chestnut curls tangled and caked in dirt. Her hazel eyes met Montserrat’s, and something unspoken passed between them.
“You’re hurt,” Montserrat murmured, her voice trembling.
Alice's shoulder was soaked with blood. Her healing was slow—too slow. Montserrat could feel it. Something wasn’t right.
“Monty?” Ryan said softly. “Is it you?”
Montserrat nodded, dazed. Jairo let her go, his jaw clenched tightly.
“You saved me… didn’t you?” Montserrat asked, her pupils dilating as old memories flickered behind her eyes.
Alice gave a small, weary laugh. “Couldn’t help myself, Monty.”
Montserrat blinked rapidly. “We need to get you to the infirmary. Now.” She turned, guiding Alice forward with a firm grip, her mind whirling. Jairo and the others remained rooted in place, confused, silently exchanging glances.
Paloma followed quietly. The moment she stepped outside, her nose twitched—lavender, chamomile, berries. A bond. Her mate?
Ryan paused too. The air shifted—eucalyptus and spearmint. His head snapped toward the scent, and there she was: a girl, 5'4", with light brown curls, and brown eyes. A stranger. And yet…
Inside the hospital, nurses recoiled at the scent of rogue. Montserrat’s eyes turned sharp.
“Is there a problem?” she asked icily.
“No,” the nurses stammered in unison.
“Where are Doctor Peter and Doctor Macy?” she asked, annoyance slipping through her usual calm.
The doctors were paged. When they arrived and caught the same rogue scent, they hesitated—until a voice boomed behind them.
“Help them,” Jairo ordered.
Both doctors bowed. “Of course, Alpha.”
Doctor Macy led Montserrat and Alice to one side, and Doctor Peter took Ryan to the other. Montserrat helped Alice onto the bed. Behind the drawn curtain, Doctor Macy carefully cut away Alice’s shirt and examined the wound.
“It’s not deep,” Macy murmured, “but her body’s not healing.”
“Dehydration,” Montserrat guessed aloud, worry etched into her face.
Alice hissed in pain as the doctor pressed gauze to her wound. Montserrat grabbed her hand without thinking.
Across the room, Doctor Peter treated Ryan’s leg. Older wounds were healing—but not fast enough. When he was done, he left quietly, and a nurse arrived to hook Ryan up to fluids.
Back behind the curtain, Doctor Macy finished bandaging Alice. An IV bag was set up, and pain meds were administered.
“Your dad… he’s an Alpha?” Alice asked, watching Montserrat.
Montserrat nodded. “My mom’s an Alpha’s daughter.”
“So… you’re a full Alpha bloodline,” Alice said, half in awe.
“Yeah,” Montserrat replied quietly. Her thoughts drifted—mahogany fur, those haunting gray eyes. A wolf she knew but couldn’t place.
“You didn’t recognize the wolf, did you?” Alice said suddenly, fingers fidgeting.
Montserrat froze. Turned. “What?”
“It was him,” Alice whispered. “The wolf. From that day.”
“Stop talking,” Montserrat snapped, more sharply than she meant. Her voice cracked like glass.
Outside the room, Jairo stiffened. He was listening.
“Monty… have you told anyone?” Alice asked, quieter now, but no less direct.
Montserrat’s face went pale. “No!” she barked. She pushed away from the chair and stormed out of the room.
Ryan, watching from across the room, clenched his fists. He knew what they were talking about. Lorenzo. The mahogany wolf. The one who took everything from them.
That day, Montserrat didn’t just lose her mate. Alice and Ryan lost their father.
Lorenzo had escaped before Ryan could kill him. They’d hunted him for seven long years. And now… they were close.
Jairo stepped into the room, eyes locked on Alice.
“Hello,” she said, guarded.
Jairo studied her, sensing something deeper in her gaze. She didn’t shrink under his stare but glanced at her brother. Ryan gave her a reassuring nod.
Paloma, watching from the hallway, followed her mate’s gaze. Toward the girl. Her stomach dropped. A silent, aching realization passed through her. She turned away, walking out.
Inside, Jairo finally broke the silence. “You know my daughter?”
It sounded more like a question than a statement.
“I mean no disrespect, Alpha Benitez,” Alice said carefully. But I was sworn to secrecy. What Montserrat and I discussed… it’s not mine to reveal.”
Jairo’s expression darkened with curiosity, but he nodded. “I appreciate your honesty. May I ask about your parents?”
Alice paused, glancing at Ryan. Then she looked back at Jairo.
“My mom abandoned us. I was raised by my father and brother. Seven years ago… our father was killed. In front of us. By a rogue.”
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Jairo said, quieter now.
“Thank you,” Alice replied, then hesitated. “Alpha… I shouldn’t say this." But just know—my father died protecting Montserrat.”
Jairo stared at her, stunned. The words struck deep.
He turned, quietly leaving the room. His mind reeled with the weight of that revelation.
Her father had died… for his daughter.
And no one had ever told him.
- Writer
