Chapter 62: The Ugly Truth
Kaiser:
I stared at Alastor.
For several seconds after his words fell into the silence, I genuinely thought I had misunderstood him.
We’ll talk later.
Later?
My fingers curled slowly at my sides. I looked at him. Then at Charlotte. And then finally at the papers still spread across the table.
The evidence. The confession. I had laid everything out in open. And somehow it all ended up with a...
Later?
I opened my mouth. Ready to ask him if he had lost his mind. To ask whether he understood what just happened. To ask how exactly we reached a point where someone could practically confess to arranging assassinations and the response was postponing the discussion.
But before a single word left me, Charlotte suddenly gasped. It wasn’t subtle. It was sharp and painful. Her hand flew to her belly, and her entire body folded slightly. Her face turned pale as she cried out.
Immediately, everything changed. Darien moved first. Instantly. He reached her before she could even finish her breath. His expression shifted completely into concern, protectiveness, and urgency. His hands reached her shoulders as he asked if she was alright.
Alastor moved too. His attention snapped away from me so quickly it almost looked instinctive. His eyes immediately landed on her stomach and his jaw tightened.
And suddenly, nobody was looking at the papers anymore. Nobody was looking at me. Nobody was looking at the confession.
I stood there. And watched. Watched my brothers gather around the woman who had just accidentally exposed herself. The woman accused of ordering deaths. The woman accused of trying to hurt... Rose.
Our Rose.
My chest suddenly felt strange as something heavy and cold settled there.
Charlotte leaned against Darien. Her breathing looked uneven. And Darien guided her carefully back into her chair.
Alastor crouched beside her, and his voice softened as he asked if she felt pain. Or if she needed a doctor. If she was stressed.
I stared while the realization hit me hard that I no longer recognized the men I had known my entire life. My own brothers.
Alastor finally looked at me. His face remained controlled as he repeated. "Kaiser, let’s drop this matter."
Something inside me went quiet. And what I realized made my chest hurt more than anger ever could. It wasn’t that they didn’t suspect Charlotte. It wasn’t that they hadn’t noticed things. It wasn’t that they were blind.
No.
That would have been easier. The truth was worse, far uglier. They never wanted to know, because knowing meant making choices. And those choices would destroy everything they had convinced themselves they were protecting.
I looked at them and finally asked, "So that’s it?"
Nobody answered.
I looked at Charlotte. Then at my brothers. And then asked quietly, "Are we keeping a murderer?"
Darien looked up first and his expression hardened immediately. His jaw tightened as he asked, "What do you want us to do?"
I stared.
His voice remained steady. "What if she killed those men? She is the Luna of our packs."
My stomach twisted.
And then he added, "She is carrying our child, Kaiser. What exactly do you want me to do?"
The room became silent.
For a second, I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. But then anger surged back. I looked directly at him and corrected, "Your child, Darien. She’s carrying your child."
His expression shifted, but he didn’t back down. Instead he said, "No." His voice stayed calm. "She’s carrying the future heir of our pack."
Something broke at that point. Not loudly, nor dramatically. But quietly inside me. Because suddenly, everything became clear.
I stared at my brother for a few moments before slowly turning to look at Alastor. And then I asked the only thing left. "What about Rosalie?"
Both their expressions changed instantly. But it wasn’t guilt or regret like I expected or wanted, but more like something uncomfortable.
I held their gaze and asked again, "What about her?"
But all I got in return was silence. For a moment I thought they wouldn’t speak at all, but then Alastor answered in a voice that sounded far too calm and reasonable like we were discussing weather.
"We still don’t have proper evidence confirming Charlotte did something to Rosalie."
I stared at him in disbelief. In that moment, I genuinely couldn’t speak.
No proper evidence?
I looked at the papers. Then at Charlotte who still looked like she was having a mental and physical breakdown because of me. But I didn’t miss the clear shine of victory in her eyes that was calling me a loser.
I shifted my attention back to Alastor. My throat suddenly felt too tight. I had been disappointed in my brothers before, ever since they dragged Charlotte in my life and forced their decisions on me by reminding me of my duties toward our packs.
I had been disappointed in them over their stupidity, over their choices and decisions, over Rosalie. But nothing... absolutely nothing prepared me for this. Because this wasn’t choosing wrong. This was refusing to see.
Alastor looked at me. Then asked quietly, "Do you remember why we did all this?"
I answered immediately. Because I knew. Because I repeated it to myself a thousand times.
"For the packs."
He nodded once before asked another question. "Then what are you doing now?"
I looked at him in confusion for a moment before suddenly I understood exactly what he meant.
If I pushed this, if I exposed Charlotte, if this exploded... it would affect the packs. Exposing her crimes would affect politics, our image, the alliance, the future. Everything. It would mess up the exact things we had sacrificed for. The exact things we had convinced ourselves mattered more.
And suddenly, I hated myself. Because I had agreed with them. I had participated in their plans even though I was practically manipulated to do so. I too had told myself Rosalie would understand. That we would fix things. That she would stay. That she would forgive.
So I asked quietly, "What about Rosalie?"
Again both of them stiffened. And this time, it was Darien who answered. The words probably spoken more to himself than to me.
"She will come back. And things will go back to how they used to be."
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