Page 51 of Alpha's Revenge Luna

As I sit in the dining hall next to Tara.

My stomach twists in hunger, but it’s overshadowed by coiling anxiety as I reach for a piece of toast, only for the server to whisk it away from my grasp.

The bacon floats in front of me, fat and greasy, and the smell is enough to make my mouth water.

Yet, I rather leave, feeling the tension rise in the room.

Tara’s voice rises in defense: “Madeline, she needs to eat. She hasn’t eaten in days.” Tara’s voice is a mix of anger and concern, but it’s no match for Madeline’s growling retort.

“You would really stand up for the traitor? She got our pack members killed,” Madeline sneers at us, her words like venom.

I shake my head, too tired to argue and feeling defeated.

“It’s fine, Tara. Just take me to Dion’s office,” I mutter, desperate to escape the hostility that hangs in the air like a thick fog.

Tara’s concern is palpable as she insists I eat, but the servers’ refusal is clear—they’d rather see me starve.

“You need to eat,” she insists softly, but I can only shake my head, my voice barely above a murmur. “The Alpha ordered me.”

Madeline’s hostility only escalates as Tara reaches for some bacon, and again the tray is pulled away. “Seriously, what are you trying to do? Starve her to death?” Tara’s frustration is evident.

“We could only hope,” comes Madeline’s cruel response, and that’s when the chaos breaks out.

Tara reaches for another tray when a scuffle between Tara and Madeline erupts like a sudden storm, and I can only watch, heart pounding, as my one ally in this place is berated and pushed for her loyalty to me.

Chairs scrape, voices rise, and I’m suddenly on my feet, heart racing, as another woman grabs Tara’s hair.

I pull Tara away, my own voice shaking with fear and urgency. “It’s fine, Tara, just take me to Dion’s office,” I repeat, but Dion’s order holds us back. We’re trapped until I eat something, anything.

When Tara finally manages to snag a cheese cube, she holds it out to me with a trembling hand. “Come on, eat that,” she urges, insisting I eat it so she can leave. I oblige, swallowing not only the food but also the guilt and shame that come with it.

As we walk toward Dion’s office, Tara’s apologies are a bitter reminder of how far I’ve fallen in the eyes of the pack. “I’m sorry, Emery, I am,” she says, her voice heavy with emotion.

“It’s fine; they will give up eventually,” I tell her, trying to offer some comfort even though I feel none.

“No, I am telling Dion, you need to eat. Especially since he is feeding on you,” Tara insists, her gaze flicking to the marks on my neck. Heat floods my cheeks as I touch my neck, embarrassed and cornered.

“No, please don’t. I don’t want more drama started; they will lay off eventually. I don’t want anyone in trouble because of me, it will make things worse,” I plead, my voice desperate.

Tara stops and glances at Dion’s office door.

“Please,” I beg her. The last thing I need is more drama.

She frowns but nods slowly. “Fine, I’ll let you tell him.

You have until tomorrow; if not I will tell him, Emery,” she warns me.

That was not the answer I was hoping for, but for now, I will take it.

Tara’s hug before she leaves is a small solace, but Kyrio’s arrival only adds to my unease. “Everything okay?” he asks, and I force a smile, hiding the turmoil inside while he stares after his mate. “Everything is fine,” I assure him, my voice steady despite the lie.

“If something happened, you’d tell me?” he asks, and I nod.

“Of course,” I tell him, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me. Yet, he turns, jogging after Tara and grabbing her arm.

Tara casts a nervous glance at me, but I slip through the door, wanting away from everyone.

Inside Dion’s office, I’m enveloped by silence as he’s on the phone. He motions for quiet, and I nod, wandering the room, my fingers brushing over the shelves when I stop, picking up a heavy paperweight, lost in thought when I notice the small library attached.

The library beckons, and as I push the door open, Dion’s warmth envelops me from behind. “You can go in,” he says softly, and I look up at him,

“Did you have breakfast?” I nod, knowing if I give a spoken answer, he’ll sense my lie.

His presence behind me in the library is both reassuring and terrifying. “Pick whatever you want, you can take some books back to the room if you want?” he offers, but I’m silent, the shelves a towering maze around me.

“I’m waiting on a couple of calls, but when they’re over we’ll go to pack training,” Dion tells me, and I freeze.

“Pack training?” I ask, my voice tinged with fear.

“You can train with me; I won’t let my pack hurt you. Not again, Emery,” His assurance that I can train with him does little to ease my nerves.

“Can I stay in the room?” The plea escapes me before I can stop it, and Dion’s firm response seals my fate.

“You’re going, end of discussion,” he says. His phone ringing is a distraction from the tension. He growls glancing at his desk.

“Take it,” I tell him, and he pulls me closer, his lips brush my forehead, a soft gesture that doesn’t match the turmoil within me.

I take a deep breath, trying to calm my shaking body, and step closer to the bookshelves.

I scan the titles, picking out one that looks interesting.

It’s a slim volume on wolves and shifters, and I carry it over to the chaise in the corner.

But as I move to sit on the chaise, my eyes meet Dion’s, and he motions for me to come to him.

I walk back into his office, where he pushes his chair back so there’s room for me on his lap. He pats his knee, indicating for me to sit on it. When I don’t move, he raises an eyebrow at me.

I sigh in defeat and take a few steps forward until I stand between his legs.

He moves to get up, but I roll my eyes before pushing him back into the chair with a hand on each armrest. Once he’s settled again, he grips my wrist and pulls me onto his lap so I’m facing him with my knees straddling his thighs.

Once seated comfortably on Dion’s lap with his arms wrapped protectively around me, I try to focus on reading my book.

But it isn’t easy with Dion playing with my hair or pressing kisses along my neckline as he talks, and Dion’s other hand on my hip is distracting.

His fingers trace small circles, sending shivers down my spine.

I shift slightly, and he tightens his grip, a warning not to move away.

I turn around, earning a growl, but I can’t read comfortably like that.

However, as I do, the conversation on the other end of the phone catches my attention.

“Have you told Emery about Trinity yet?” The name sends a shock through me, and Dion’s tension is a palpable force.

“She may have information that Trinity didn’t tell us.

If she has proof of whom, we can clear your name and reopen investigations,” I look at Dion before pushing off his lap, but his arm snakes around my waist, holding me in place.

I push against him, needing space, needing answers, but his hold is firm. “Wait, I’ll explain,” he says, but it’s too late. What does he know about Trinity?

“I’ll call you back!” Dion snaps at whoever he is speaking to. The call ends abruptly, and I slip from his grasp, but before I can gather my wits and confront him, I’m pinned against his desk, my back pressing into the hard surface, and a million questions racing through my mind.

“Stop,” he growls, his voice a low and menacing snarl. “You haven’t let me explain.”

My eyes narrow as I consider his words. “You know my sister?” I ask, incredulously, knowing he is withholding such information from me. He grits his teeth so hard I hear them grind.

“Yes,” he tells me through tightly pressed lips before settling into his chair with a predatory grace.

Red flags start to go off in my head as I observe him. “How?” I demand, suspicion rising within me.

But before he can answer, he pushes his chair closer, trapping my legs between his muscular thighs. My heart races as I stare into his cold eyes.

“I know you don’t like hearing anything bad about your family,” he says, his voice dripping with malice, “That is why I never told you.”

My mind reels at his words. Did he have her killed? The thought sends a shiver down my spine, and I snap at him without thinking.

“Did you have her killed?” I practically spit the words at him.

Dion’s face contorts in anger, his grip on my thighs tightening. “What kind of monster do you take me for?” he snarls.

My heart races as I stare into his eyes, searching for the truth. But all I can see is cold, unfeeling rage.

“You know nothing because no one gets a chance to explain anything without you jumping to conclusions,” he spits, and I feel a sickening sensation in the pit of my stomach. “Your sister was reckless and paid the price; I told her not to come back here.”

I stare at him in disbelief, struggling to find the words to respond. “You never told me about her,” I whisper, my voice shaking with emotion. “You should have told me.”

Dion’s grip on my thighs loosens, and he reaches up to brush a strand of hair behind my ear. “Every time I’ve mentioned your family, you’ve dismissed me,” he says. “I will tell you, but you won’t like the answers you’re seeking,” he warns me.

My heart aches at his words, but I can’t shake the feeling there’s more to the story than he’s letting on.

“Your sister came to me looking for help.” He pauses.

“She wanted help with your father. She—” I shake my head and move to get up, done with his lies.

He is trying to make me believe my family were monsters.

I won’t let him trash Trinity’s name. Trinity wasn’t allowed out of the house, just the same as me.

Dion growls. “This is precisely what I mean. When I mention your family, you shut down and don’t want to hear it!”