My Mate's Vanishing Truth

Ryan burst into my room in the middle of the night, his Delta warrior uniform disheveled, and dropped an envelope on the table before leaping out the window. My mate, Alpha Damien Hansen of the Shadowmoon Pack, whom I’d loved for years, immediately grabbed the letter and used his Alpha authority to call the pack’s enforcers, accusing me of encouraging suicide. Without hesitation, I was sentenced and confined to the pack’s holding cells.

Wesson, the former Alpha of the Shadowmoon Pack and my father-in-law, visited me during my confinement. His once commanding presence was diminished, his inner wolf withdrawn. I pleaded with him to tell me what was in that letter, but a look of fear washed over his face, and he mumbled, “Don’t ask me, don’t ask me.” The pack’s guards then escorted him to the healer’s facility, where he was admitted for psychiatric treatment.

Three years later, I was released, and Alpha Damien was there to pick me up. His towering frame, muscular and imposing, stood like a fortress, yet his eyes were clouded with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. “Luna,” he said, his Alpha tone softening slightly, “I did all this out of love for you.” But when I asked about the contents of the letter, he hesitated, and I discovered that Wesson had attempted suicide.

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“Alpha Damien, your father tried to take his life,” Zhuri’s frantic voice echoed through the phone, her words laced with desperation. Damien didn’t seem shocked at all, as if he already knew. “Understood, Mother. I’ll be there soon,” he replied calmly, his Alpha composure unshaken. Yet, when I glanced back at him, tears silently streamed down his face, his eyes filled with sorrow. I felt this sadness wasn’t for Wesson but somehow for me.

We hurried to the hospital, only half an hour after receiving the news. The pack’s enforcers were already there, questioning Zhuri, the former Luna, whose once warm demeanor was now shattered. “I was in the room taking care of him when a letter appeared on the table. His face turned to terror, and then he jumped out the window,” she recounted, tearing at her hair in despair at the surgery room door.

The enforcers relentlessly repeated their questions. “What happened to that letter?” “I don’t know.” “We sent someone to check, and it wasn’t found.” “I really don’t know.” “Did you see what was in it?” “No, I didn’t.” “Has this letter appeared before?” “Yes, when my younger son died.”

The enforcers seemed to focus on that detail. “Your younger son died by suicide too?” Zhuri broke down into inconsolable tears, unable to answer any more questions, burying her face in her hands. Until I approached, she suddenly stood up and rushed toward me, her once nurturing presence now filled with venom. “You murderer, tell me, what have you done?” she screamed, her voice echoing through the hospital halls. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

Zhuri glared at me with bloodshot eyes, lunging at me,