Chapter 272Â
ALEXANDERÂ
I didn’t need to step outside to know what was happening.Â
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The moment Irene’s voice rose–in that quiet way of hers–I was already on my feet, moving toward the window. I stopped just short of it, my hand braced against the glass as I looked down at the entrance.Â
Diana was on the ground.Â
For a split second, something ugly flickered in my chest–not guilt, not sympathy, but irritation. Deep, bone–tired irritation. The kind that came from having your boundaries trampled over and over again and still being expected to explain yourself.Â
Diana pushed herself up slowly, one hand pressed to her cheek, eyes wide with disbelief.Â
“You-” Her voice shook with outrage. “You put your hand on me?”Â
Irene didn’t flinch.Â
“Yes,” Irene said flatly. “And I’ll do it again if you ever raise your hand to anyone in this pack.”Â
Diana let out a sharp laugh. “You think you can just-”Â
“These guards are following orders,” Irene cut in. “Orders from the Alpha. Disrespecting them is indirect disrespect to Alexander himself.”Â
I watched Diana’s expression twist, denial flashing first, then something darker.Â
“But of course,” Irene added coolly, “your desperation wouldn’t let you see that, would it?”Â
I exhaled slowly through my nose.Â
That was Irene–always precise. Always knowing exactly where to cut.Â
Diana straightened fully now, brushing dirt off her clothes like the ground itself had insulted her. Then she laughed, tilting her head.Â
“Oh, I see,” she said. “So this is what it is. You’re the one organizing all this in Alexander’s name, right?”Â
I clenched my jaw.Â
She pointed at Irene. “You’re using his name to push me out. But I’m not going anywhere untilÂ
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Alexander himself comes down here and tells me why I’m suddenly not allowed into the packÂ
house.”Â
The entitlement in her voice was staggering.Â
And exhausting.Â
I reached for my phone.Â
“Kyle,” I said when he picked up.Â
“Yes, Alpha.”Â
“Diana Brown is at the gate. I need you to place her under arrest,” I said calmly. “Lock her up.”Â
There was a pause. Just a fraction too long.Â
“…Understood,” Kyle replied, surprise coming through despite his effort to hide it.Â
I ended the call and stayed where I was, watching as Irene folded her arms and Diana continued to talk, unaware that her fate had already shifted.Â
I felt no satisfaction.Â
Only relief.Â
DIANAÂ
My cheek was still burning when I heard footsteps.Â
Heavy footsteps.Â
I turned sharply, my heart leaping for reasons I refused to examine too closely. For one foolish, desperate moment, I thought-Â
Alexander.Â
Instead, Kyle emerged from the corridor, flanked by two soldiers.Â
My stomach dropped.Â
Kyle stopped a few feet away from me. Irene turned too, her posture instantly rigid, alert.Â
“In the name of Alpha Alexander of Blood Crescent,” Kyle said clearly, “Miss Diana Brown, you are under arrest.”Â
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The words didn’t register at first.Â
“What?” I let out a laugh, sharp and disbelieving. “That’s not funny.”Â
Kyle didn’t smile.Â
He gestured slightly with his hand. “Take her.”Â
The soldiers stepped forward.Â
Something snapped inside me.Â
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“Don’t touch me,” I snarled, my fangs flashing before I could stop myself. The familiar rush of power surged through my veins, instinct screaming at me to fight, to lash out, to prove that I couldn’t be handled like this.Â
The soldiers hesitated, just for a breath.Â
Then I saw it.Â
The truth.Â
If this order came from Alexander, there was no fighting it. No escaping it. No winning this byÂ
force.Â
Slowly, deliberately, I retracted my fangs.Â
I lifted my chin. “I’ll walk.”Â
Kyle studied me for a moment, then nodded.Â
As they turned toward the entrance, something unexpected bloomed in my chest–not fear.Â
Hope.Â
This was better.Â
Arrest meant audience.Â
It meant Alexander couldn’t ignore me anymore. Couldn’t hide behind guards or Irene or silence. He would have to look at me. Speak to me. Tell me himself why he’d done this.Â
Maybe then I could explain.Â
Maybe then he’d understand.Â
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ALEXANDERÂ
By the time I finally headed down, the corridors were quiet.Â
The guards stiffened when they saw me and moved aside without a word.Â
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Diana was sitting on the narrow bench inside the cell, her back against the wall, her head tilted slightly forward. Her hair was a mess now, strands loose around her face, her earlier fire burned down. She looked… tired. Not weak. Just spent. Like someone who had fought too hard for something already lost.Â
When she lifted her head and saw me, she let out a soft, breathy laugh.Â
I didn’t return it.Â
“So,” she said, her voice quieter than I thought, almost gentle. “This is what it comes down to.Â
I stopped a few feet from the bars, hands at my sides, posture neutral.Â
“If anyone had told me,” she continued, shaking her head slowly, “that one day you’d have the heart to arrest me–lock me up like some common criminal–I would’ve laughed in their face.” She looked at me then, really looked, her eyes searching mine for something. Anything.Â
The tone she used might have undone me once. Years ago. When I still confused a lot- history with entitlement.Â
It did nothing now.Â
I didn’t answer her.Â
Instead, I said calmly, “I’ve already contacted the police.”Â
Her expression faltered.Â
“They’ll be here to formally take you into custody,” I went on. “I’m having everything documented. Legally.”Â
Her brows knit together. “Alexander-”Â
“I intend to file a report,” I said, cutting her off without raising my voice. “For harassment.”Â
The words landed hard. I saw it in the way she stiffened, the way her breath caught, like she hadn’t expected that.Â
“And,” I added, “for repeated violations after being denied access. You were told not to comeÂ
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to my office at the company. You ignored it. You were told not to enter the pack house. You ignored that too.”Â
She stood abruptly, moving closer to the bars. “Harassment? I wasn’t harassing you. I–”Â
Her mouth opened, then closed again. Her hands curled around the bars, knuckles whitening.Â
I continued, “I’m filing for a restraining order immediately. You are not to come near me, my mate, my home, or my place of work.”Â
Silence stretched between us.Â
I could see the reality settling in, piece by piece. This wasn’t a warning. This wasn’t something that could be smoothed over with apologies or tears or shared memories.Â
This was final.Â
“I’m telling you all this,” I said, my tone controlled, “so you understand the seriousness of the situation. What happens to you next depends on the choices you make.”Â
Her voice trembled when she spoke again. “You’re destroying me.”Â
I met her gaze without flinching. “I’m protecting myself. And my family.”Â
Something in her eyes shifted then–hurt giving way to something like fear.Â
“I will make sure your family’s land remains secure,” I added. “Not because of you, but because of your family.”Â
I turned.Â
Behind me, I heard her inhale sharply.Â
“Alexander,” she called, her voice suddenly soft, stripped of its edge. Just my name. No accusation, no argument. Just the sound of someone realizing–too late–that there was nothing left to fight for.Â
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