Page 159 of Burning Embers

My mother—his fated mate—was killed by Hunters, after all.

Grayson doesn’t respond, choosing instead to keep his head lowered.

Emery mumbles something under his breath, practically fuming with anger.

“Let me paint a picture of what I think happened,” my father continues, his eyes sparking with wicked glee. Malice. “You began dating Sydney in the hopes of getting an in with some of the local wolves. Is that correct?”

The twins’ mom begins to cry even harder, and Matthew shushes her, stroking her hair.

I don’t know if she’s crying because she cares about Grayson or because she’s hurt on behalf of her daughter. Either way, the sound of her sobs tightens my stomach muscles.

Has anyone ever cried for me like that?

I’m not even sure my packmates would if something were to happen to me. Yes, they care about me and even love me, but our relationship has been strained for years now, even before everything happened with Reid and Ethan. I’d like to say that those events were the two catalysts that destroyed our pack, but I know that’s not the case.

We were broken long before that.

It’s why Isabella should run as far away from us as she can. As far away from this world as she can. She’s human. Innocent. Sweet. Good. Assholes like us will only tarnish and destroy her, vaporizing everything that makes her…her.

My father clasps his hands behind his back and begins to pace in front of Grayson, practically preening from the attention.

“You were able to get close to Larissa and Alixandra through your relationship with Sydney, correct? Perhaps she introduced you to them, and you made the connection that they were also wolves. Or maybe you somehow found documents detailing as such.” My father lifts a shoulder as if the answer to that question doesn’t particularly concern him, but his eyes burn with curiosity. “You would stalk these girls for months, gathering as much intel as you could, and then strike when they were least expecting it. Is that true?”

Even before my father finishes speaking, Grayson’s shaking his head. His raspy voice reaches my ears—soft, as if he hasn’t spoken in a while.

“No. That’s not true.”

“Then why do you have pictures of Larissa and Alixandra on your phone?” My father dangles the flip phone in front of Grayson’s face, but Grayson doesn’t even react.

His expression remains impassive. Aloof. His mask is almost as good as mine.

“Did you plan to kill Sydney next? Was that your plan? Or did you intend to fuck her for more information?”

“Gregor—” Matthew’s voice is harder than I ever remember hearing it before. His eyes flare yellow as his wolf surfaces. “That’s my daughter you’re talking about.”

“A daughter you should feel lucky is still alive,” Dad snaps, and taut lines appear around his mouth and eyes.

I wonder who he’s thinking of. My mother and other fathers, perhaps?

Or is it Christian, the son he’ll have to watch go insane and then inevitably die?

My heart thumps harder at the thought of my older brother, but then I remind myself that now isn’t the time to feel such pesky emotions.

I need to focus.

Learn what I can.

Because something about all of this isn’t adding up.

“You were caught visiting that girl tonight, weren’t you? Isabella?” My father tries to keep his voice neutral, but there’s a sinister undertone to his words that lifts the hairs on the back of my neck.

I don’t want my father to even think Isabella’s name, let alone speak it.

Reid growls sharply, and the twins go rigid on either side of me. Matthew looks uncomfortable with this turn of conversation, but then again, it wouldn't surprise me if the twins told their father the truth about who Isabella is to us. Even if they didn’t explicitly come out and tell him she’s our fated mate, I wouldn’t put it past them to hint at their growing feelings for her.

My father’s either oblivious to the sudden tension saturating the room or chooses to ignore it. He continues to pace back and forth in front of Grayson, that smug grin of his never dissolving from his face.

The first sign of life has seeped into Grayson’s eyes. They harden, turning cold, and his teeth grit together.