My Alpha Stepbrother’s Secret

Chapter 5: Dark Discoveries (Elara's POV)

Chapter 5: Dark Discoveries (Elara's POV)

The handkerchief felt heavy in my pocket as memories washed over me. That night at Caleb's apartment hadn't just been an escape from my mother's expectations. It revealed a secret that changed everything.

After our talk, Caleb had shown me around his small place. "It's not much," he'd said, "but it's mine."

The apartment was clean and organized. What caught my eye were the bookshelves filled with ancient texts and healing manuscripts.

"I didn't know you were interested in healing," I said, surprised.

Caleb shrugged. "Knowledge is power."

His phone rang suddenly. His shoulders tensed.

"Pack business," he muttered. "I need to take this outside. Don't touch anything."

The moment he left, I felt drawn to his desk. A leather-bound journal sat partially hidden. I knew I shouldn't look, but something pulled me toward it.

As I approached, I knocked over a stack of books. The journal fell open, revealing pages of Caleb's neat handwriting.

My heart stopped. It was a detailed record of what he called "curse manifestations." Entries describing days when he lost control of his wolf. Clinical notes about blackouts and self-inflicted wounds – desperate attempts to stay conscious.

"Day 147: Full moon. Manifestation began at 9:17 PM. Sedative ineffective. Used physical restraints. Woke with severe cuts on wrists and ankles. Must increase dosage next cycle."

My hands shook as I turned the pages. There were medical charts tracking symptoms against moon phases. Photos of wounds that made me sick – deep gashes from fighting restraints, burn marks where he'd pressed hot metal against his skin.

In the margins, always the same note: "Must control it. Cannot risk hurting others."

I was so absorbed that I didn't hear the door open. Caleb's shadow fell across the page.

His silver eyes flashed dangerously. His rage barely contained.

"What do you think you're doing?" His voice was deadly quiet.

I stepped back. "I'm sorry—I knocked over your books and—"

"And decided to read my private journal?" He snatched it from my hands.

"Caleb, what is this? What curse are you talking about?"

His face went cold. "That's none of your concern."

"But if you're hurting yourself—"

"There's nothing wrong that concerns you," he snapped. "This is my burden."

"We're family," I insisted. "Let me help."

His laugh was bitter. "Family? Is that what we are?"

"Of course! Why did you move out of the pack dorms? Why are you isolating yourself?"

Caleb locked the journal in his desk drawer. Each movement was careful, controlled.

"Your mother made it clear what she thought of me," he finally said. "That I was using you both to inherit what should be yours."

I was shocked. "She said that?"

"She didn't need to say it. Her actions spoke loudly enough."

"That's ridiculous. You're her son too."

"Am I?" His eyes met mine, cold as ice. "I was never her son, Elara. I was a charity case she tolerated because your father insisted."

The pain in his voice was raw, despite his cold tone.

"Whatever you saw in that journal, forget it," he said. "My problems are mine alone."

I wanted to argue but felt the wall between us was too thick. So I changed the subject, and by morning, it was like our conversation never happened.

---

The bell chimed as I entered Moonlight Remedies. Samuel looked up from the counter, his smile fading when he saw my face.

"Rough delivery?" he asked.

I forced a smile. "Just tired. Anything happen while I was gone?"

"Just inventory waiting to be organized," he said, pointing to boxes of supplies. "Marcus wants everything cataloged by tomorrow."

For an hour, I lost myself in sorting herbs. The routine task kept my mind off Caleb.

The bell rang, interrupting my work. Kevin, a regular customer, walked in with his usual swagger.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced to just Samuel and me, "feast your eyes on this beauty."

He dropped a small velvet pouch on the counter. Inside was a moonstone pendant, shimmering with blue and silver light. It was stunning – and extremely rare.

"Where did you get this?" I asked in amazement.

Kevin smirked. "Gift from an admirer. A wealthy lady who's not happy with her fiancé."

"I'm looking to sell," he continued, leaning on the counter. "Thought you might be interested, given your business."

He was right. Moonstones had powerful healing properties. This one could make dozens of high-end remedies.

"May I?" I asked, reaching for the pendant.

Kevin nodded as I lifted it. The stone was warm, pulsing with energy. I checked it carefully for any signs of tampering.

"It's authentic," I confirmed. "And excellent quality."

"So what's it worth to you?" Kevin asked eagerly.

Samuel moved closer. "Marcus should really be here for big purchases."

"I can call him," I said, "but we can start negotiating. Do you have proof of ownership?"

Kevin's smile faltered briefly. "The lady wanted discretion. Paperwork wasn't part of the deal."

"Kevin..." I gave him a stern look.

"It's not stolen," he insisted, hands raised. "Wolf's honor."

After calling Marcus for approval, we agreed on a price. Just as we finished, the door opened again.

Three unfamiliar wolves entered. Their scents carried aggression. The leader – a burly man with a scar on his cheek – looked around with calculating eyes.

Kevin pocketed his money quickly. "Thanks for the business. I should go."

He hurried past the newcomers, avoiding eye contact. His behavior worried me.

"Welcome to Moonlight Remedies," I said calmly, though my wolf was on alert. "How can we help you?"

The leader stepped forward with a cold smile. "Nice place. Business seems good."

"We do alright," I replied carefully. "Are you looking for something specific?"

He chuckled. "Name's Rex. People call me 'Big Boss.' I provide... protection for businesses around here."

My stomach dropped. Protection rackets weren't uncommon in commercial areas.

"We're already protected by pack patrols," Samuel said firmly.

Rex turned to Samuel, his expression hardening. "Pack patrols can't be everywhere. Bad things happen when businesses aren't properly... insured."

His companions moved to flank him threateningly.

"How much?" I asked directly.

"Smart lady," Rex grinned. "Two thousand a week ensures nothing happens to your inventory or your pretty face."

Samuel tensed beside me. "We don't respond to threats. The patrol office is just down the street. One howl and they'll be here."

"Bold talk from a pup," Rex growled. "Even if I get arrested, I have friends who would enjoy disrupting your business while I'm away. Fires start. Accidents happen."

I squeezed Samuel's arm, feeling him shake with anger. A fight now would destroy the shop.

"I understand," I sighed, moving to the register. "No need for trouble."

Rex followed me, smiling in triumph. "Wise choice."

As he leaned in to watch me count money, I struck. I grabbed his collar and slammed his head against the metal cash drawer.

"Samuel, now!" I shouted.

Samuel shifted instantly, his wolf form attacking the closest thug. I partially shifted, claws extending as I vaulted over the counter to face the third intruder.

Glass shattered as display cases tipped over. Herbs and potions spilled everywhere. Rex recovered quickly, shifting into a massive black wolf.

I dodged his first attack, using the shelves to block his larger size. Samuel was holding his own, teeth deep in his opponent's shoulder.

The fight was fierce but short. My years in exile had taught me to fight dirty, to survive against bigger enemies.

When the bell rang again, I feared reinforcements. Instead, pack patrol officers burst in.

"Pack law enforcement! Everyone freeze!"

Rex and his men were quickly subdued and restrained. The shop was a mess – broken glass, spilled remedies, toppled shelves.

"They tried to extort protection money," I explained, wincing at a cut on my arm.

At the sheriff's office, Rex changed his story.

"We were just passing through," he claimed innocently. "Looking for supplies. They tried to sell us fake herbs, and when we questioned the quality, they attacked us."

The sheriff looked skeptical of both versions.

"She's unstable," Rex continued, pointing at me. "Exiled for killing a pack member? Now selling questionable remedies? We're the victims."

Samuel started to protest, but the sheriff silenced him. We were at a standstill – our word against theirs.

The door opened, and Marcus entered. Despite his missing arm, his presence filled the room. His face was calm, but his eyes burned with fury.

Rex paled visibly, shrinking in his chair.

"Marcus," the sheriff greeted him respectfully. "What brings you here?"

"These two," Marcus indicated Samuel and me, "are my business partners and employees. If there's an issue with my apothecary, I should be involved."

The fear on Rex's face told me everything. Marcus's reputation as a former elite warrior still meant something, even to rogues.

"No issue," the sheriff assured him, giving Rex a knowing look. "Just clearing up a misunderstanding."

Marcus stepped toward Rex. "A misunderstanding that won't happen again, I'm sure."

The threat hung in the air, unmistakable.

Rex swallowed hard, suddenly changing his tune. "Actually, I think there has been a genuine misunderstanding. Perhaps we should withdraw our complaint."