Rejected And Reborn As The Alpha King's Luna

Chapter 55: Forbidden Archives at Midnight

POV: Xavier

The Council was in session when I burst into the meeting chamber. Five Alphas sat around a massive table, including Alpha Celeste and Elder Thorne. They all turned to stare at me.

"This session is private," Thorne said coldly. "Leave, boy."

"I'm not your boy," I replied, walking straight toward him. "But apparently, I am your son."

Silence fell over the room. Celeste's ancient eyes widened slightly. The other Council members exchanged shocked looks.

Thorne's face remained emotionless. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Don't lie." I slammed my hands on the table. "You r***d my mother twenty four years ago during a visit to Silver Moon pack. She got pregnant. Alpha Damien claimed me as his own to protect her honor, but we both know the truth. Your blood runs in my veins."

"Careful, Xavier," Celeste warned. "These are serious accusations."

"They're not accusations. They're facts." I turned to face all of them. "And I want everyone in this room to know that the man judging Thelma Rivers, the man pushing hardest for her execution, is my biological father. A r****t who abandoned his own child and now seeks to murder an innocent woman for political gain."

Thorne stood slowly, his face finally showing emotion. Rage, pure and cold.

"I admit to nothing," he said. "But even if your fairy tale were true, even if you were my biological offspring, so what? You mean nothing to me. You were born from a moment I barely remember with a woman whose name I've forgotten. You are not my son. You are nothing."

The words should have hurt. They were meant to hurt. But instead, they crystallized something inside me.

I didn't need this man's acknowledgment. I didn't need Damien's love. I didn't need anyone to tell me who I was.

"You're right," I said quietly. "I'm not your son. Because a real father protects the innocent. A real father stands for justice. You're just a coward hiding behind power and politics."

"Remove him," Thorne commanded the guards stationed at the door.

But before they could move, Celeste raised her hand.

"Wait." She studied me with those ancient eyes. "Xavier makes valid points. Elder Thorne, if you have a personal connection to this case, even one you deny, your judgment may be compromised. Perhaps you should recuse yourself from the trial."

"Absolutely not," Thorne snarled. "The boy is lying, inventing stories to save his criminal lover."

"I don't even remember her," I said. "But I remember justice. And this trial reeks of corruption."

The other Council members began murmuring among themselves. Celeste watched everything with an expression I couldn't read.

"This session is over," Thorne announced. "The trial begins at dawn as scheduled. Xavier, if you continue to interfere, I will have you charged with obstruction."

He stormed out, two other Council members following. Celeste remained, studying me.

"You've made a powerful enemy," she said.

"I've made an honest stand," I replied.

She smiled slightly. "Perhaps. But honesty doesn't always win, young wolf. Be careful."

She left, and I was alone in the chamber. My hands were shaking, adrenaline still coursing through my veins.

Both my fathers had rejected me. My entire identity had been shattered. And tomorrow, a woman I couldn't remember would face judgment for crimes she might not have committed.

I felt lost, adrift, like a ship without an anchor.

+++++++

That night, I couldn't sleep. I paced my room, thoughts spiraling. Finally, I gave up and went to the prison building. The guards let me pass, either out of respect for my title or pity for my situation. I found myself outside Thelma's cell, sitting on the floor with my back against the wall.

"Xavier?" Her voice came through the bars, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I don't know," I admitted. "I keep coming here. I don't understand why."

"You don't have to explain."

"Tell me something," I said. "Anything. I want to know who you are, not who people say you are."

There was silence, then she spoke softly. "I like thunderstorms. The sound of rain makes me feel calm. And I can't cook, everything I make turns out burnt or tasteless."

Despite everything, I smiled. "What else?"

"I have a twin brother who drives me crazy but who I'd die for. I hate wearing dresses. And I always wanted to see the ocean, but I never have."

"I'll take you someday," I said, then stopped. "Sorry, I don't know why I said that."

"It's okay." Her voice was gentle, sad. "Maybe someday you will."

We talked for hours, about nothing important. She told me about growing up in the Tee pack, about training to fight, about stupid mistakes she'd made as a teenager. I told her about Finn, about feeling like an outsider in my own family, about dreams I'd had.

It felt natural, easy, like talking to someone I'd known forever. Eventually, exhaustion caught up with me. I must have dozed off because I dreamed. In the dream, I was with her. Not sitting outside her cell, but holding her, kissing her, making love to her with an intensity that burned through my entire being. She whispered my name like a prayer. I felt complete, whole, like all the missing pieces had finally come together.

"I love you," I said in the dream. "I'll always love you."

"Promise me forever," she replied, her golden eyes shining.

"Forever," I swore.

I woke with tears streaming down my face and her name on my lips.

"Thelma."

But I still didn't remember why she mattered. I just knew, bone deep, that she did.

I stood on shaking legs and looked toward her cell. The corridor was empty, the guards at their posts far down the hall.

Something white caught my eye. A piece of paper on the floor, folded carefully.

I picked it up, unfolding it with trembling hands.

The message was written in elegant script:

"The memories you're missing will kill you if returned too soon. But there's a way to protect you. Come to the Forbidden Archives at midnight. Come alone. Trust the wolf you don't remember loving."

It wasn't signed.

I looked at Thelma's cell, but she was asleep on the narrow bed, her face peaceful despite the chains on her wrists.

The Forbidden Archives. A place where ancient knowledge was kept, forbidden to all but the highest Council members.

Midnight was three hours away.

I folded the note carefully and slipped it into my pocket.Someone knew about my missing memories. Someone knew how to help. And despite every logical reason to be cautious, despite the danger, I knew I would go.

Because the alternative was living with this emptiness forever, this hole in my soul where something precious used to be. I would go to the Archives. I would find the truth. And maybe, finally, I would remember why Thelma's name made me weep.