Chapter 138
Astor’s Pov
I stood at the edge of the freshly dug grave, watching the soil settle over the casket. This was it.
My father. My hero. Gone.
The whole ceremony was been a blur of lowered heads and whispered condolences and pitiful eyes. I had to look strong for the pack. I had to stand tall as the Alpha, but inside, I was just a son grieving and a mate heartbroken.
I turned towards my mother, a woman who was never frail, she was fierce and a pillar of strength, always a perfect luna beside my father. But now, she looked like a broken doll, her spine was bent her eyes were red and watery staring at a spot where the my father was laid.
I walked toward her, my hand reaching out. I just wanted to hold her, to share this crushing pain.
“Mom.” I murmured, my voice cracking.
She flinched as if I’d struck her. Then, slowly, she turned her wounded eyes on me. The raw hatred reflected there stopped me dead in my tracks. It wasn’t the numb grief I expected, it was pure focused rage aimed right at me.
“Don’t touch me, Astor,” she hissed. Her voice was quiet yet it crashed down on me like a powerful
wave.
“Mom, please. We need to-”
“Need to what? Mourn together? I am mourning!” she cried, finally letting the tears fall freely. “I am mourning the loss of my mate. The man who fathered my son and loved me for years. And you,” she spat the word, “you brought the monster who did this into our home. You marked her, gave her kids then build her a castle in our pack so she could burn our lives down”
The words were glass pieces shattering every defense I had left.
“Faith didn’t-” I started, but the lie died in my throat. She did. She confessed.
“She did, Astor. She killed him. She killed him because of a vendetta that started long before you were even born. You knew of her history, you knew she was a threat, and you let your pathetic love blind you” She drew a shaky breath, pressing her fists to her chest. “He died because of your choice, Astor. You let her stay despite knowing her truth.”
She walked away leaving me to suffer over her words.
Her accusation was soul–crushing because, deep down, a terrified part of me knew she was right. I
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had ignored every red flag that came with the fact that she was the daughter of the man that died because of my father and now my father was dead, and I had paved the path for his killer.
I couldn’t stay here. I couldn’t handle the crushing weight of the pack’s pity any longer, the way they looked at me knowing that my mate and their Luna, was the one locked beneath the ground in the pack dungeons.
I went home but as soon as I walked through the door, Marco came barreling toward me and his
brow was furrowed with concern.
“Daddy, where is Mommy?” he asked, pulling at my trousers. His simple, innocent question felt like
a knife twisting in my gut.
My heart shattered all over again.
How was I supposed to answer that? ‘She’s locked in a cold cell because she killed Grandpa.
I know it is impossible for Marco to live without his mother because she has been his one and only
constant.
“She… she is busy right now, kiddo,” I managed, scooping him up and burying my face in his neck, inhaling the sweet and clean scent innocence.
“But she isn’t home often these days” he insisted, his little voice thick with worry. “Is she mad at
me?”
“No, never mad at you,” I whispered, tears stinging my eyes. I looked over at the Kimberly, who shook her head slightly, offering a silent apology for the difficulty of the question.
I spent an hour with the kids, trying to distract them, trying to laugh, but every noise, every glance, every familiar toy, reminded me of the woman who shared this life with me. The woman who had sworn to love me and stand by me, and who had confessed to taking the one person I needed
most.
When they were finally asleep, I walked to the master bedroom–our room.
As the door clicked shut, the world outside faded, and I was enclosed in a suffocating bubble of
memory.
Her scent.
It was everywhere. It clung to the sheets, to the pillows, to the clothes she had left draped over the armchair. It was such a bright, living scent, so incongruous with the death she had brought.
I stumbled to the bed and sank onto the mattress. I grabbed the pillow she used, pulling it tight against my face, trying to inhale her presence, even as my mind screamed that I was holding a
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murderer’s ghost.
How could I forgive her?
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My father was my everything. He taught me to hunt, to lead, how to be honorable. He was my hero. And she had snatched him away in the most brutal way possible.
Nothing will ever bring my father back to me.
I smashed my fist repeatedly into the mattress, the rage and confusion bubbling up until I was sobbing uncontrollably into the silk sheets. Why, Faith? Why did you ruin us? Why did you destroy this beautiful life we were building? Why did you make our children motherless?
She destroyed both our lives, and now our children will pay for it.
My wolf, silent and subdued since the confession, finally lifted its head inside my mind.
She couldn’t have done it, my wolf growled low and insistent. Faith would never hurt our family. Something is wrong.‘
She admitted it.’ I screamed back internally. She told us herself There is no running away from the
truth.’
A bitter knot formed in my stomach. To be honest, I understood why she felt the need for revenge. My father had been responsible for her father’s death.
But her father was a monster. He had to die. He was a ruthless killer who threatened the safety of werewolves as a whole. My father was a good man. A just man. He didn’t deserve to die like an animal just for keeping the peace.
So, now what? my wolf asked, the sorrow in its tone unmistakable.
I leaned back against the headboard, feeling utterly hollowed out. I closed my eyes and faced the cold, hard logic of my position.
I stood before the pack today as Alpha and I promised every single person in this territory that the person responsible for the death of the former Alpha.
But the killer is locked in my dungeon. And she is my mate.
