Page 55 of Alpha's Revenge Luna

“You are not staying in the car, I want you at my side,” Dion tells me.

I nod climbing out of the car with them and he grabs my hand.

Once again, we find the place eerily quiet.

Even once inside the morgue, I can’t shake off the chill that’s crawled under my skin.

Kyrio seems just as unsettled, his eyes flickering around nervously.

We pass no one as we walk the dimly lit halls.

Dion’s posture is rigid, his face set in a hard line, and I can tell he’s deeply troubled.

“What did you find?” I finally ask, my voice quivering slightly.

Dion doesn’t answer immediately. He pauses, deep in thought, his jaw clenched.

The morgue attendant approaches us hesitantly, his hands visibly trembling. “Alpha Dion—” he stutters.

“You need not fear me, Allan,” Dion tells him and the man visibly relaxes when Kyrio speaks.

“Where is everyone?” he asks.

“The pack?” the man replies, leading us into the huge room full of what appear at first to be lockers.

“You’re the first person we’ve seen,” Kyrio answers. The man nods moving toward the steel lockers. Gripping the handle, he pulls it out, revealing a body covered by a sheet.

“The council took most in for questioning, some have returned, but they’ve said nothing to me. I’ve left them be. I can tell they’re scared,” he answers.

“Scared?” Dion asks.

“Yes, because they know all this fuss over a war that never happened. They know the council is trying to cover it up,” he admits.

“So they know it wasn’t Alpha Callum?” he nods, grabbing his note board and checking the tag on the foot of whoever is under the sheet.

“The two men who found his body also haven’t returned from the council’s questioning.”

“Who are they?” Dion asks.

“Farren’s Beta and Gamma,” he says, giving Dion a look that seems to say something I can’t decipher. Yet, Dion’s grip on my hand tightens slightly.

I step cautiously closer, and my heart sinks when Allen pulls the sheet off Alpha Farren’s body. I scrutinize the body, my gaze fixating on the unmistakable puncture marks on his neck. It’s a clear signature of a vampire. Dion turns to the attendant, his eyes narrowing.

“Vampire,” he states, watching as the attendant shudders, his fear palpable in the stale air of the morgue.

“Yes, Alpha Dion,” he stammers. “The council... they didn’t want to cause a panic. They instructed me to list the cause of death as blood loss from a challenge.”

“But there was no challenge, was there?” I press, my instincts on high alert. The man’s nervous glance only confirms his fear also.

“No, Alpha. And Alpha Callum is innocent; he left with his daughter that night and never came back. The council took all the CCTV footage, too.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but the implications of his words echo loudly in my mind.

“And you were supposed to cremate the body?” Dion asks, his voice low but carrying an edge of authority that demands truth.

“Yes,” the attendant admits, his eyes darting around the room.

“They knew you were coming today and were worried you would inform other packs about a vampire attack. Once you leave, I will be putting it in the incinerator. If they find out you saw the body, I fear the repercussions. I actually thought when I spoke to Kyrio it was a set-up.”

Dion clenches my hand making me jump and his grip instantly loosens as he gives me an apologetic look.

The council’s deceit, their manipulation…

it’s all becoming crystal clear. They’re covering up the presence of a vampire, and now, they’re trying to bury the evidence, but why?

Sure it would cause panic, but isn’t it better for everyone to be on the lookout than be blindsided when their pack is attacked.

“Thank you for your honesty,” Dion says, his tone icy.

“This information stays between us. If the council finds out you’ve spoken to me, it won’t end well for me,” Allan states.

“We think we may have been seen at Alpha Farren’s pack house.” The man stiffens, and nods stiffly. “If you need protection, you are more than welcome to come back with us.”

The man sucks in a breath.

“I can’t do that; my sister is here. I can’t leave until I know she has been returned by the council,” he tells us, and Dion glances at Kyrio.

Dion tells him to call him if he changes his mind, and that he and his sister are welcome to stay at his pack before we leave.

“Alpha Farren... he was killed by a vampire,” he says, his voice edged with a mix of fear and anger.

I gasp, covering my mouth with my hand. “A vampire? Here?” The words tumble out in disbelief.

Dion nods grimly as we get into the car. He starts the engine, the car rumbling to life. We drive in silence, each of us lost in our own thoughts. I can’t help but feel a sense of foreboding, knowing a vampire is on the loose. The threat seems so much more real and immediate now.

We head back to the packhouse. Dion’s determined to warn everyone and plan our next steps, while my thoughts go to Grandma and if she is safe out there in the middle of the woods by herself.

“What are you thinking?” Dion asks me, snapping my gaze away from the window.

I shrug, unsure myself.

“Something has upset you. I can feel your fear through the bond,” he tells me. “Are you scared of going back to the pack?”

I shake my head because I am not more afraid than normal.

He watches me for a second, searching my face for any deceit. “Maybe you’re not afraid of anything physical, perhaps you’re afraid of your own misplaced trust?” he suggests and I swallow. Kyrio glances at us in the mirror and I turn my gaze away.

“I just can’t fathom my father killing her. It’s hard to know the person you grew up loving and believing loved us in return could do such a thing,” I tell him and he nods.

“Not all parents deserve to be parents. I’m also not saying he didn’t love Trinity, but sometimes betrayal outweighs love and reason. But can you ever truly know somebody?” he asks me, and I furrow my brows..

“Everybody’s mind works differently,” he says. “Everyone’s thought patterns are different—driven by different things. Places, people, and situations. Everyone reacts differently, sometimes differently to how we believe they should.”

Yet, there is an edge in his tone I don’t quite understand. I sense he is referring to me in some way.

“Why does that sound like an accusation?” I ask him and he purses his lips.

Dion’s gaze is intense, reflective as he tries to articulate his thoughts, giving voice to the complex emotions and insights swirling within him. His voice lowers, a note of frustration seeping through.

There’s a brief silence as if he is contemplating his next words.

“But I am also trying to remind myself, you were their child, and a child’s view of their parents is inherently different from the rest of the world’s.

To a child, parents are the first teachers, the first protectors.

They shape the world you grow up in. It’s normal to see them through a lens tinted with affection and trust, even if that view doesn’t align with reality. ”

“So I’m wrong for loving them?” I ask him, but he shakes his head.

“Not wrong, misguided.”

“Like Trinity was,” I murmur.

“It’s hard to question what we’ve always known, especially when it comes from those who raised us. Children wear rose-colored glasses, not by choice, but by necessity. It’s a part of growing up, trusting what we’re given without question. But that trust can mask truths that are harder to accept.”

I nod, understanding his logic, but now that makes me curious why he would be so cruel. “But you didn’t have a problem telling me they were monsters or hating me for hating you,” I remind him.

He chuckles then nods before turning slightly, so he is kinda facing me.

“I couldn’t understand how you didn’t see your parents for what they truly were.

It baffled me that you never questioned their actions, their nature.

From where I stood, their notoriety was evident.

To me, you siding with them was inconceivable, and it angered me. ”

His words are firm, but I sense the guilt coursing through him, it’s evident on his face and the way his hand moves to grip mine as if reminding himself I am not my parents.

“But I’m beginning to realize my perception of you was tainted. I saw you through the lens of your parents, their actions, not as the individual you are. That wasn’t fair to you.”

I peer up at him, my voice barely above a whisper. “And who am I?” I ask, seeking clarity in his newfound understanding.

He meets my gaze steadily, a softness touching his eyes. “You’re my mate,” he says simply, yet with a profound sense of realization. “You’re not the shadow of your parents; you’re your own person, and I’m only just beginning to truly see that.”

“You see that, but your pack sees me as a murderer.”

Dion’s expression softens, a hint of regret lining his features. “You’re right; they see you as a murderer,” he acknowledges, his voice tinged with remorse. “And I’ve played a part in fueling that perception. But just as your understanding of your parents was flawed, so is their view of you.”

He pauses, choosing his words carefully.

“Their perspective is clouded. They see your actions as a catalyst for the tragedy, and to some extent, that’s true.

But they overlook the fact that you weren’t the one who actually caused their deaths.

We all make poor choices, Emery, and sometimes, we desperately seek someone to blame.

You, being an outsider, and the pack being bonded through shared trauma, it’s easier for them to point fingers at you. ”