Chapter 7
Dante POV:
I carried Chiara into the manor, my heart pounding with a rhythm that felt wrong. Every step away from the park felt like I was tearing a muscle in my chest.
*Alessia.*
I shouldn't have left her. My wolf was pacing in my mind, snarling at me, biting at my mental barriers. *Mate! Go back to Mate!*
"It hurts, Dante," Chiara moaned against my chest. "My core... it feels like it's shattering."
I kicked open the doors. "Get the pack doctor! Now!"
My Beta, Marcus, ran down the hall, followed by Dr. Evans.
We laid Chiara on the sofa in the living room. My prospective in-laws, Marco and Isabella, hovered anxiously.
"Is she dying?" Isabella wailed. "Oh, my poor angel!"
Dr. Evans, a no-nonsense woman with graying hair, placed her hands over Chiara's chest. She closed her eyes, extending her senses to read Chiara's energy signature.
The room was silent, save for Chiara's theatrical gasps.
Dr. Evans frowned. She moved her hands to Chiara's head, then her stomach. She opened her eyes, and for the first time in thirty years, I saw fear in them. Not for the patient, but for herself.
"I can't do this anymore," Dr. Evans whispered, her hands shaking. She looked at Marco and Isabella. "You told me he wouldn't find out. You told me the girl was secure in prison."
"Shut up!" Marco roared, stepping forward.
I stepped between them, my Alpha aura flaring hot and dangerous. "Let her speak."
Dr. Evans scrambled back, clutching her medical bag. "They blackmailed me, Alpha. Seven years ago. They said they'd have my license revoked, said they'd frame my son for selling drugs. I had to fake the records."
"Fake what records?" I asked, my voice deadly calm.
"All of them," Dr. Evans cried. "Chiara isn't sick. She never was. Her core is perfectly intact. It's average, perhaps a bit weak naturally, but there is absolutely no damage. There never has been."
Chiara sat up, her tears instantly drying. "You're lying! You incompetent quack!"
"And the pheromones," Dr. Evans continued, pointing a trembling finger at Chiara. "That's *Alpha Musk*. It's illegal. It mimics distress signals and dulls the cognitive functions of any male in the vicinity. That's why you've been so foggy, Alpha. She's been poisoning your senses for years."
The silence in the room was deafening. The fog in my brain seemed to lift, replaced by a clarity that was sharp as a knife.
"But..." Marco stammered. "We've spent millions. The treatments. The special diet. The trips to the spiritual spas in Bali."
"She didn't need any of it," Dr. Evans said.
The front door opened. Giuliana walked in. She looked pale, clutching a leather-bound book.
"Giuliana?" Isabella asked. "Did you hear? The doctor says-"
"I know," Giuliana said. Her voice was trembling. "I stopped by the witch doctor's hut on my way back. The one Chiara claims to visit for her 'herbal remedies.' He told me she hasn't bought medicine in years. She buys suppressants to hide her scent and fake symptoms."
Chiara scrambled off the sofa. "You're all lying! You're trying to frame me!"
Giuliana ignored her. She walked straight to me.
"And then," Giuliana said, tears streaming down her face, "I went to the attic. I found this under the loose floorboard."
She handed me the book. It was a cheap notebook with the Federal Silver Prison logo stamped on it.
"Read the entry from July 14th, seven years ago," Giuliana whispered.
My hands shook as I opened the book. The handwriting was cramped, written by someone in pain.
*Day 4 in the cage. The silver burns my skin. I can't sleep. But I am glad he is alive. I can still feel the phantom pain in my arm where they put the needle. Four pints. I gave him four pints of blood. Mother held me down while Father found the vein. They told me I was useless, that my blood was the only good thing about me. But it worked. Dante is breathing. Even if he never knows, even if he hates me for the crime I didn't commit, he is alive because of me. That is enough.*
The world tilted on its axis.
I couldn't breathe. The air in the room felt like solid lead.
"Four pints..." I whispered. "That's... that's nearly fatal."
"It was Alessia," Giuliana sobbed. "It was always Alessia. We tortured the savior and worshipped the parasite."
I looked at Chiara. She was backed against the fireplace, her face twisted in ugly panic.
"No!" Chiara shrieked. "She's lying! That diary is a fake!"
"And the Ancient Tongue?" Marco asked, his voice hollow. "At dinner. Alessia spoke it. She understood everything we said about her. Every insult. Every curse."
"She heard us call her a soulless waste," Isabella whispered, covering her mouth with her hand. "While she carried the scars of saving our Alpha."
I dropped the book.
My knees hit the floor.
A howl built up in my chest, a sound of pure, unadulterated agony. My mate. My True Mate. The woman I had sent to prison. The woman I had just abandoned in a park for a liar.
*Alessia!* I screamed into the Mind-Link. *Alessia, answer me!*
I threw my mental voice out toward her bond, desperate to apologize, desperate to beg.
But instead of her warm presence, I hit a wall.
It was a cold, solid barrier of brick and mortar.
She had blocked me.
"She's gone," I whispered, staring at the floor. "She cut the link."
*
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