Page 55 of Alpha's Rejected Warrior
“Of course. I know. But he says he doesn’t remember what happened. I’m just trying to figure out what could make him black out.”
He seems to relax a little, but says, “No. I’m not aware of any condition Jayme has that would cause something like that.”
“Maybe something that happened when you were kids? Like a head injury that’s only affecting him now.”
Branson shakes his head. “We’ve endured more than our fair share of hardships. We were taught to trust no one, and to train as if war was always on the horizon. But I can’t pinpoint any particular trauma Jayme suffered that I somehow escaped. Whatever shaped him shaped both of us, together.”
A slight twinge in Branson’s tone catches my ear. There’s more there. “So, Jayme. . . he’s like everyone else, right?”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s like all other Lycans? There’s nothing about him that makes him different from you, or Akila or Conan or Rhiannon, that would have made him attack the Elder’s daughter, is there?”
Branson stops dead in his tracks, glaring at me now.I’ve insulted him.
“No,” he says like he’s slamming a door shut. “There isnothing.” He tilts his head sharply, challenging me. “So, what’s your assessment, then? Am I being truthful?”
This is where I should respond with “I’m asking the questions here,” but I have to remember that he could crush me like a bug with just his pinky.
“Branson, I’m not your enemy. I want to protect your pack by finding out the truth.”
“And I have told you the truth, as did Jayme.” Anger ripples across his face. “My brother did not do it. This investigation is a farce.”
Before I can respond, the alarm rings, clanging like a church bell and echoing throughout the fortress. We both look up to see guards running in the direction of the dungeons. We exchange glances, then follow them.
It doesn’t take long to catch up to them, because we’re only feet away when we see Holden stumbling out the door. He clutches his abdomen, blood seeping between his fingers. Branson rushes to him, catching him before he collapses into the dirt.
“Get Olcan. Now!”
Chapter 21 — Rhiannon
“Three attacks in two days,” Xander says. He’s pacing behind his chair in the study. For once, I’m the only one sitting.
Olcan had just finished wrapping my wound when Branson and Ethan burst through the infirmary doors carrying Holden between them. His mid-section was drenched crimson, the blood soaking through his clothes at an alarming pace. Olcan rushed him to a separate exam room.
Despite Ethan’s attempts to make me rest, I demanded we inform Xander at once of the situation. The issue had gone from bad to worse, and I couldn’t afford to have him hear it from anyone else.
Not long after I informed Xander of the attacks on Ethan and Holden, Elder Stasio appeared and the two of them had it out in the halls. I’m certain that their shouts could be heard throughout the entire fortress before Elder Stasio had stormed off, seething with rage.
Now, we’re gathered in Xander’s study. Ethan stands on one side of the room with Thea and Gemma. Conan, Branson, and Akila stand around me.
“Do you think Jayme could have escaped and stabbed you while aiming for Ethan?” Xander asks, lines deepening across his forehead.
“No, it wasn’t Jayme.” I hold Xander’s gaze without blinking. “He would never.”
The memory of that moment flashes through my mind again. The glint of the dagger hurtled toward Ethan, and a fury erupted inside me. I didn’t even think. My body just moved.
I’ve always been protective of those under my command, but this was different. When I jumped in front of that knife, it wasn’t strategic or calculated. It was raw and personal. Almost desperate. My wolf didn’t hesitate or question. It simply knew that Ethan’s safety mattered more than protocol, more than my own safety, more than anything else.
Why did I react that way?The question lingers as I flex my bandaged arm, testing the pull of the wound.
My wolf stirs in a way that unsettles me. This intense feeling for a human, it’s not something I was prepared for.
Xander stops pacing and gives me a skeptical look. “You’re certain? With everything that’s happened—”
“I’ve trained with Jayme for years,” I cut him off, my tone of voice leaving no room for doubt. “I know his movements, his fighting style, his scent. I knowhim.Even in a cloak, I would recognize him instantly, if I believed it could’ve been him in the first place.”
Conan nods. “I would’ve recognized him as well. It definitely wasn’t Jayme.”
