Page 323 of Alpha Mates

When Oliver had shouted the name, it’d felt like a dual punch to the gut. There was Julian’s dead brother, alive and in the flesh, and he was callinghisname.

Time hadn’t changed him much. He looked almost the exact same. Longer hair, but that was it. It was him.

I’d considered him being behind the rogues, but I hadn’t really believed it. I thought acknowledging the chance would get ahead of the fear. Saying it made it smaller. Containable. Something I could laugh off as absurd. I hadn’t actually believed it.

We will be okay, Aiden,Maximus promises, conviction solid as stone.We will kill this devil and every one of his followers.

Max sounds so sure, but then again, he hadn’t been there when I met this devil. I’d done that alone, and while I wanted him dead, how could we kill every one of his followers if one of those demons is our mate’s brother?

Emitt and Katerina speak in hushed whispers, or maybe that’s just what they sound like to my bleeding ears. I glance at Julian. He’s still staring at the ground.

I squeeze his arm, silently begging him to make this better, but when he finally looks up, I wish I’d left him alone.

His eyes look brighter when he’s so pale, the blue shines and splinters like layers of shattered glass.

“He’s alive?” he whispers, and even though we both know it’s true, he still says it like he’s unsure.

I want to lie. Tell him that it was just a dream. That it’ll be fine. That I can fix this. But I don’t know how to tell either of us any more lies.

“I saw him,” he mumbles, and I nod. I’d seen him too.

“He’s dead,” he states, and we both know he meanssupposed to be. “I saw him. I—I found him.”

That’s the story. So why the hell did we just see him alive and well?

Julian asks me the same thing with his eyes right before the elevator dings, and the tears start again. I hold onto him—because that’s all I can do—and brace myself for whatever Goddess wants to throw at us next.

Beckett steps out first, just like Emitt promised. He’s at Julian’s side in a heartbeat. But he’s not alone. Behind him comes the person I very quickly realise I want to see the least right now.

I thought fear would follow the shock, but it doesn’t. This time, when my father’s eyes meet mine and his expression twist, I feel nothing but rage. The moment stretches—and then I move. I have two fistfuls of his shirt and I slam him against the wall.

A chorus of shouts follows, but it’s as distant to me as my sanity when I glare up at him.

“You said you killed them all,” I grind out as he tries to wrestle free.

“Aiden. What—what are you talking about?” he snaps, hands clawing at my wrists. He tries to pull them apart, but his grip is weak. Everything about him is weak.

“You said you killed them all,” I seethe, rage thrumming through my bones.

Shocked brown eyes gape back at me, flashing for a moment with gold, and the sight of them almost brings me to my knees.

“Aiden,” he hisses with an alarmed glance back at the others.

My eyes must be glowing, bright red, and here I was, letting others see them in broad daylight. I should care, I should be covering up or excusing myself so no one could see. But the reminder only fuels me as my claws tear through fabric and nip at his skin.

“You said you killed them all.”

Tears prick my eyes, but I blink them away, and as I do, my father stills.

“You promised,” I pant, and my breaths are short again. My hands shake, so I tighten them, shoving him back against the wall, but he’s not fighting me anymore. He’s pliant, and the grip on my wrists loosens as he stares at me. “Youpromised…”

It’s the only thing that kept me together. The reason I dealt with half the shit they put me through. I could be what he wanted—the son, the alpha—because he’d save me. That’s what I told myself as a child. That changed with age, but he saved me, so my resentments had limits.

“Aiden,” he whispers my name this time, and I can’t help but laugh.

“It’sAidennow?” I echo, voice breaking into something wild. “You said you killed them all.”

“We did,” he snaps—but there’s a fear behind his eyes, one that’s greater than his fear of others knowing where he’d failed as an alpha to his own son. There’s an understanding, too, that seems to dawn as he looks at me. “We did.” But he doesn’t sound so sure this time.