Bound by Alpha's Deception: My Step-Brother's Secret Vengeance novel Chapter 10

In that moment, Eloise's triumphant expression flashed through Percival's mind.

If the broken seeing-stone could be dismissed as coincidence, these projected memories were irrefutable evidence of her treachery!

He struggled to explain to Alpha Alfred.

The pack's angry snarls grew louder through the communication stone, demanding justice.

Percival severed the connection with Alpha Alfred.

He immediately contacted Eloise through his communication stone.

"Percival! Finally reaching out to me?" Her voice dripped with false sweetness.

"The memory-captures at the ceremony—you released them?"

Eloise's laugh was light and playful, her tone deceptively innocent.

"Of course I did! You seemed unable to complete the hunt, so I assisted. After six years of planning, the trap needed to be sprung. I was only helping you."

Rage surged through him, his body trembling.

"I told you, Dreadhowl pack matters are not your business!"

"Even if revenge was necessary, that was between Rosiane and me. Who are you to interfere? Was this truly for my benefit, or your own ambition? You know exactly what you've done!"

"Don't think I'm unaware of what you said to Rosiane that night. I spared your dignity by not exposing you then. Since you've chosen to discard your own honor, that's cool!"

He terminated the connection and immediately sent instructions to his pack enforcers.

Within a week, the Hawthorne territory rights would be challenged and stripped.

As he set down his communication stone, Alpha Alfred and Hannah entered the den together.

Percival immediately shifted to his knees in a formal position of submission, his head bowed low.

He struck his own face repeatedly with partially shifted claws, drawing blood in the ancient gesture of profound remorse.

"I'm responsible for Rosiane's fate. I accept all blame."

"I believed... I thought Hannah had interfered with your mate-bond with Mother. I never intended... this outcome."

Alpha Alfred's face contorted with fury. He delivered a powerful kick to Percival's chest, sending him sprawling backward.

"You foolish whelp! Your mother left our bond because the silver sickness had claimed her! It was terminal!"

"She chose to spend her final days living freely rather than watching you grieve. I tried to convince her otherwise, but she refused treatment, fearing the burden it would place on you. I've kept this truth hidden, protecting you all these years."

"Hannah only entered our territory after your mother joined the Eternal Hunt. How has she wronged you? What sin has Rosiane committed to deserve such cruelty?"

These revelations hit Percival like physical blows.

All this time, he had believed Hannah's arrival had driven his mother away, causing her death.

He never considered that his mother had chosen to leave them both.

Belated guilt and regret crushed his chest like the weight of the moon itself.

Percival struggled to breathe through the pain.

His lips trembled, but no words came.

After a long silence, Alpha Alfred spoke grimly, informing him of his decision to dissolve his bond with Hannah.

"Despite what you claim, I cannot believe these six years left you untouched. Your wolf knows the truth."

Percival understood this was to protect Rosiane.

It was an attempt to make amends for his terrible misdeeds.

Yet he could offer no words to prevent the separation.

He had no right—not as the architect of this tragedy.

He remained in the formal submission posture outside their den for a full day and night.

When word reached him that Hannah was departing for distant territories, he secured passage on the same journey.

Across the Great Waters, in the territory of the Seraphic Pack, he finally found her—Rosiane, still alive.

Mother and daughter sat on a wooden swing, gently rocking back and forth in the golden afternoon light.

He suppressed his instinct to rush forward, to confirm her scent was real.

Instead, he concealed himself downwind, listening to their conversation.

A merchant ship found me, recognizing the pack emblem I wore around my neck—my mother's legacy.

"The Wilson family crest," the captain said, examining it. "Red Moon Pack territory. We can return you there."

And so the wheels of fate began turning, guiding me back to a place I never thought I'd return—my biological father's pack.

My mother, Hannah, had left Jacob Wilson long before we joined the Dreadhowl Pack. I was barely more than a pup when she took me and fled.

I had only fragments of memories from that time, and the stories Mother told me during our years of wandering between territories.

"Your father loved me once, Rosiane," she'd say, her eyes clouding with bittersweet memories. "But Kiera wanted power, wanted to be the mate of a high-ranking wolf. She made our lives unbearable with her scheming."

Mother had left with me for my protection, fearing that the growing hostility would eventually extend to her half-blood daughter.

My father had been furious, blaming me for "stealing" his mate away. The truth was more complicated—Mother left to protect me, and he couldn't forgive either of us for that.

When the merchant ship docked at the Red Moon territory, I was immediately escorted to the main den. The guards recognized me instantly—I looked too much like my mother to be mistaken for anyone else.

"Rosiane Kensington," one of them muttered. "We thought you were dead."

"It's Wilson," I corrected, the name feeling foreign on my tongue. "Rosiane Wilson."

My father was informed of my arrival, and I was brought to his study.

The moment I entered, I knew things had changed drastically in the years since Mother and I had left. There was a coldness in his eyes I'd never seen before, even in my earliest memories.

"So, the prodigal daughter returns," he said without rising from his seat. "Where is your mother?"

The question struck me like a physical blow. "She... she died in the silver storm."

Something flickered across his face—pain, perhaps.

The door opened, and a tall, blonde woman entered with two younger females—clearly her daughters. One was her spitting image, while the other had softer features and warm hazel eyes.

"This is the half-blood?" the blonde woman—Kiera—asked with disdain. "Hannah's daughter?"

"Yes," my father replied. "She'll be staying with us now."

Kiera's smile didn't reach her eyes. "How... wonderful."

And I would soon learn how unwelcome I truly was.