Jeffrey's expression hardened at the mention of Camilla. His wolf energy rippled faintly in the air, heavy with disapproval.
"Niece?" he repeated coldly. "That girl isn't part of this pack. You don't need to concern yourself with her."
I opened my mouth to reply, but before I could speak, a low voice cut through the room.
Lewis.
"You should call him Father," he said, calm but firm a warning threaded through his tone that sent a chill racing down my spine.
My breath caught. His eyes were on me, sharp as a blade. I could feel the weight of his dominance pressing against my skin, forcing my wolf to lower her head. A light sheen of sweat gathered at my neck. That small slip calling Jeffrey Grandpa had just slipped out. It was instinct. A ghost from another life.
No one else seemed to notice... except Lewis. He noticed everything.
I forced a small smile. "Right," I said softly. "I only meant that you and my grandfather are around the same age. It came out by mistake."
Thankfully, Jeffrey didn't take offense. His energy softened, his eyes almost kind. Maybe my face reminded him of someone he'd lost. "It's all right," he said, a faint smile curving his lips. "You're new to the pack. It's natural to feel out of place. Come sit."
I sat beside him quietly, feeling Vicky's stare burning holes through my back.
Some things never change.
Whether I was Riley now, or Elena before, women like Vicky always hated me. She craved everything I seemed to attract naturally respect, affection, power. She wore her fake smiles well, but her eyes always told the truth.
I'd seen wolves like her before. Pretty on the outside, rotten underneath.
Jeffrey turned to me again, his voice gentler this time. "I'm about the same age as your grandfather," he said, removing his glasses and reaching for my hand. His touch was surprisingly warm, steady like a leader who'd carried too many winters. "You can call me Father or Grandpa. Whatever feels right to you."
Before I could answer, Vicky stepped forward, voice tight. "Father, wouldn't that… confuse things? She's not "
Jeffrey's warm tone vanished in an instant. The room went cold. "Go check on the kitchen," he snapped. "As long as I draw breath, you don't decide what happens here."
The air pulsed with dominance. Even in his old age, the elder wolf's power still commanded obedience. Vicky's aura shrank instantly. She lowered her gaze and left without another word.
Jeffrey sighed, leaning back. His energy wavered tired, but still strong. "It's good to have you here, Riley. This house has been heavy with silence for too long. Maybe you'll bring it back to life." His smile grew, hopeful now. "Since you and Lewis have already sealed your bond, we should prepare a proper home for you both. Any thoughts?"
My heart skipped a beat. This was exactly what I needed a chance to move closer to the truth.
"I haven't been back long," I said carefully. "But I came across a place called Lafayette Villa. It looked peaceful."
Lewis's head jerked up slightly. His wolf stirred beneath the calm exterior, suspicion flickering behind his eyes.
He knew.
That villa had been the one Julian and I picked out once the home that was supposed to be ours. Suggesting it now was bait. And Lewis… was far too intelligent not to sense that.
"Why that one?" he asked, his voice quiet but cold.
I smiled faintly. "No reason. I just saw it online. It looked… calm."
Jeffrey laughed, waving a dismissive hand. "You're marrying into the Hale Pack. If you like it, we'll buy it. Want ten villas? We'll buy ten."
He turned to Lewis with authority. "Take her to see a few places. Whatever she wants, make it happen."
"Thank you, Father," I said smoothly. The word Father still tasted strange, but I said it anyway.
Jeffrey nodded in satisfaction, then turned to Lewis. "Take her upstairs. Show her your den. Make sure she feels at home."
"Yes, Father," Lewis replied evenly.
I nodded politely and began pushing his chair down the hallway. The packhouse was vast glass walls, black marble floors, and faint runes carved into the doorframes that pulsed with old wolf magic.
When we reached the elevator, I tilted my head, pretending innocence. "So... which floor is your den on?"
"Third," he said simply.
Perfect.
The closer I got to him, the closer I got to the truth buried in this house and in my past.
As the elevator doors slid open, Lewis spoke again, his voice casual but edged with intent.
"Were you close to your grandfather?"
Coming from anyone else, it would've sounded harmless. But from him, it felt like a test.
The truth was, I didn't know much about Riley's past. Her memories still came in fragments, tangled with my own. I had to tread carefully. "I guess we were," I said softly. "Pretty close."
The elevator chimed, saving me. I quickly wheeled him out and asked, "Which room is yours?"
He pointed toward a door at the far end of the hallway. When it shut behind us, I finally allowed myself to exhale and take a quick look around.
Even though I'd been inside the Hale pack's territory countless times in my past life, this was my first time stepping into Lewis's private den. The space carried his scent clean, cool, and powerful. Everything was neat, almost too neat, like he wanted control over every inch of it.
I tried to ease the tension with a small smile. "Alpha Lewis, your den is huge. Feels more like one of those luxury penthouses in the city."
Before I could take another step, his hand shot out and grabbed my wrist the uninjured one. His grip wasn't rough, but the dominance in it made my wolf bristle under my skin.
"What are you doing?" I asked, trying to keep my tone steady even as my pulse raced.
His eyes locked onto mine icy, unreadable, sharp enough to slice through lies. "You said you were close to your grandfather," he said quietly, but his voice carried Alpha command. "But your grandfather has been gone for more than ten winters. How could you possibly be close to someone who's been dead that long?"
My stomach twisted.
For a split second, panic clawed at me. I had underestimated him. Lewis wasn't just any wolf he was calculating, observant. If even he could sense something off about me, how long until the others did?
Would I be exposed before I even had the chance to make my move?
My mind scrambled for a way out. Then I remembered how Camilla used to twist every situation in her favor always fragile, always innocent. So I played her game.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, letting tears pool in my eyes. "He died when I was just a pup. But he was the only one who ever truly cared for me. I still miss him every day." My voice cracked. "Why are you questioning me like this? Do you really hate me that much?"
The tears slipped down my cheek and onto his hand. I lowered my head, shaking slightly. Deep down, I was terrified what if this was a test? What if he was lying, and my grandfather was still alive somewhere in the pack lands?
Then I'd be finished.
But after a long pause, his tone softened. "Sorry," he murmured, pulling his hand back. "I didn't mean to frighten you."
I blinked away the fake tears and gave him a small, wounded look. "It just hurts," I said quietly, "to always be doubted when I'm trying to show I'm serious about our bond."
Something shifted in his expression. The suspicion in his eyes eased. His wolf must've sensed my fear or believed it.
"All right," he said, calmer now. "Take a look around. Tell me if there's anything you'd like to change."
"Okay," I murmured.
I walked through his den, studying everything the leather couch, the scent of cedar and steel. When I suggested changes, I kept them light: softer colors, floral touches, warmer lights. Nothing that would remind him of the woman I once was.
Then, just before noon, a soft knock came. A young pack attendant stepped in and bowed. "Alpha, Beta Julian has returned."
My heart skipped.
It was time.
Lewis's expression didn't change, but I could feel the tension roll off him. I steadied my breathing and gripped the handles of his wheelchair. My hands trembled just slightly.
When the elevator doors opened, I saw them standing there in the main hall.
Julian and Camilla.
The traitors.
Side by side, looking perfect together like the golden wolves of a fairy tale. Camilla wore a white coat that hugged her delicate frame, her curls spilling neatly down her shoulders. Her aura was soft, her smile sweet the same mask she'd always worn when she lied through her teeth.
She turned as we entered, her voice sweet as honey. "I heard Alpha Lewis brought his mate home today," she said with a practiced smile. "I was curious what kind of she-wolf could capture such a strong Alpha's heart..."
Then her gaze found me.
The smile froze.
The color drained from her face.
The gift bag she held slipped from her fingers and hit the marble floor with a dull thud.
I took slow, deliberate steps toward her, the sound of my heels echoing through the quiet hall. Click. Click. Click.
I stopped in front of her, my hands still resting on Lewis's chair. My lips curved into a calm, polite smile as I extended my hand.
"Hi," I said softly. "I'm Riley. Nice to meet you."
Hello, Camilla.
Hello, Julian.
Long time no see