Page 130 of The Reluctant Alpha

Ivan was squirming, his lips curled in terror, but it was the fear in his eyes that made the hair rise on my arms.

"Say it," Rhys hissed. "Say what you did."

Ivan looked from Rhys to Phoenix to me like he was searching for a reprieve he wasn't going to get. "I was supposed to restrain a prisoner. Alessandro was done with him, but he needed to be taken back to his cell.”

Rhys frowned and eased his grip. “My sire fed on a prisoner, not a blood-slave?”

“It was revenge,” Ivan whispered, and a sick feeling bloomed in the pit of my stomach, thinking back to what I knew about the day when the silver-skins had come and killed my father and all his men. I didn’t dare glance at Phoenix or Emery, because we both knew Alessandro hadn’t killed everyone.

Ivan met Rhys’s eyes. “Do you have any idea what a blood-slave smells like after my lord had fed?” Rhys curled his lip, but Ivan seemed lost in his head. “I’d never been that close so soon after a feed. It was intoxicating, and I thought…I couldn’t help…just a taste,” he whispered.

“Except a taste wasn’t enough,” Rhys said, almost in defeat. “You drained him.”

Ivan nodded, misery twisting his features. “I knew I needed to burn him, but the wolves came and my lord returned to the ancestors—”

“And you hoped to avoid punishment,” Rhys finished off.

“You didn’t burn the body,” I said, the words tasting like ash.

Ivan shook his head. “No. I ran. I was weak. I left him. I knew it was wrong, but I never thought he would…that he could…”

That he could what? Survive?

“Who?" Rhys snarled, and Ivan's gaze slid to Emery, and we all heard his gasp.

"My dad? You're talking about my dad?"

Ivan's expression was answer enough.

"But he didn't die," Emery said, his voice hollow with horror. “He was turned.”

"It wasn't my fault," Ivan said desperately. "Alessandro didn't drain him. If someone of the blood turns a human, they inherit gifts. He knew that. That's why all the created are destroyed on the coven leader's death to make doubly sure."

"But Alessandro had just fed," Rhys snarled. "Fed enough for blood transference. It doesn't matter who drained him after."

And we'd killed Alessandro before he could make sure Christopher was finished. Ivan draining him and not going back to destroy him had allowed him to be turned, with gifts he'd inherited from Alessandro. He’d been the one to arrange the deaths of the humans in a ritual to mock us, to mock me. I was Micah's son, and the bears were responsible for the silver-skins getting their hands on him in the first place.

I stared at Ivan. It was all so simple. Christopher Valentine, Emery’s father. They’d left him for dead. Instead, he’d gone through the transformation, and in the chaos, nobody had checked the bodies. Nobody had checked, and now he’d come back for revenge.

And he could get through the barrier because of Emery.

“Where is he now?” I demanded.

“He thinks if he has bait…”

“Ben?”

Ivan shook his head, miserably. “He has a contact to the human’s family. refuge.” He glanced at Rhys.

Everything inside me went cold. I took a shaky breath and tried to focus, but my hands were fisted and my bear wanted to rip something apart.

“Christopher Valentine,” Phoenix finally said, voice flat, putting it together. “Shane’s boss is Emery’s father.”

“Was,” Emery whispered.

My phone rang, and I snatched it from my pocket, hoping desperately it was Danny. But the number was unfamiliar. "Hello?" I answered, my voice rough with tension.

"Alpha Olsen," a smooth, cold voice greeted me. "I believe I have something that belongs to you."