Chapter 167: Interrogation

Vespera's POV

Lucian's question hung in the air between us, sharp and dangerous as a blade pressed to my throat.

I stayed on the ground, letting my shoulders shake with manufactured sobs. Let them see the blood on my face, the torn clothes, the bite wound still oozing down my leg. Every detail had to be perfect.

"She called me," I whispered, voice breaking on every syllable. My hands twisted in my lap, fingers threading through each other like I was trying to hold myself together. "Seraphine—Luna—she called my phone around midnight. Said she needed my help getting to Ironfall."

Lucian's eyes narrowed. "And you didn't think to inform us immediately?"

The suspicion in his tone was thick enough to choke on. I let my lower lip tremble, dropped my gaze to the blood-soaked earth.

"I didn't dare refuse." Shame colored my cheeks—real shame, buried under layers of calculation. "I'm just a lowly omega. A broken woman the Alpha abandoned not long ago. How could I disobey a direct order from the Luna? And she was desperate about her sister. How could I just stand by and do nothing?"

It was a beautiful lie. Elegant. Because it played on everything they knew about Seraphine—her recklessness, her obsession with finding Lyralei, her tendency to make impulsive decisions that put herself in danger. And it played on what they knew about me too: an omega with no real power, no ability to refuse a command from someone of higher rank.

"It was me who told her about the sighting of her sister two days ago," I continued, voice gaining strength like I was trying to justify my actions. "So when she called tonight, demanding I take her to Ironfall... I thought—I thought if I went with her, we'll find her sister sooner. But I never imagined we'd..."

I forced out two more tears, mixing with the blood and dirt to make me look even more pitiful. "I swear if I had known about tonight's tragedy, I never would have agreed to—"

One of the guards shifted behind Lucian. Derek. I caught his eye for a split second. He looked uncertain. Good. They were listening. Judging. Deciding if my story held water.

Lucian's jaw clenched so hard I could hear his teeth grind. "But you went anyway."

"I had no choice!" The words came out desperate, pleading. "I'm just a lowly omega, an abandoned and broken woman! She's the Luna! What if she complained about me to the Alpha?"

The silence stretched. Lucian studied my face, searching for any hint of deception. I held his gaze, let fresh tears spill over my dirty cheeks. Scared but honest. Regretful but loyal.

Finally, his expression shifted. Still hard, but no longer quite so accusatory.

"What happened after you met up with her?" His voice was calmer now, more controlled. Like he was building a case rather than preparing to execute me on the spot.

I wrapped my arms around myself, a gesture of self-protection that wasn't entirely false. My leg throbbed where Orion had bitten me, a constant reminder of how real this all was.

"Luna made me move faster through the forest. Said you and Orion discovered her and were chasing her, so we ran fast." I let my voice drop to barely a whisper. "Then they appeared. Six wolves, maybe seven. They came out of the trees so fast—like they'd been waiting. The one in front was huge. Dark fur, silver streaks. Seraphine knew him. She screamed his name. Damien."

Lucian's whole body went rigid. "Damien. You're certain?"

"Yes." I nodded rapidly. "She was terrified. Started backing away, but they surrounded us." My voice broke. "Orion arrived seconds later. He must have been tracking us. He shifted without hesitation and charged at them, threw himself at the leader, trying to protect Luna."

That part was true. Orion had died protecting Seraphine. Died believing he was doing the right thing. Died like a fool.

"They tore him apart." The words came out hollow. "He fought so hard. Got a few good hits in. But there were too many. The leader—Damien—He grabbed Orion by the chest and just... tore him open. Like Orion's life meant nothing."

One of the guards behind Lucian made a choked sound. I kept my eyes on the ground, on the blood-soaked earth beneath Orion's body.

"I tried to help. Shifted and lunged at the one closest to me." I gestured to the wound on my leg. "But he was faster. Caught me mid-leap, threw me against a tree. His teeth sank into my leg and I thought he was going to kill me too. But Damien called him off."

Lucian crouched down, bringing himself to eye level with me. His gaze was intense, searching. "Why would he spare you?"

This was the crucial moment. The lie that had to be perfect.

"Because they heard you coming." I let humiliation color my voice, let my cheeks flush with shame. "Damien realized Orion had been buying time. That reinforcements were on the way. He said they didn't have long."

The words landed with exactly the impact I'd hoped for. Lucian's expression darkened, fury blazing in his eyes. Not at me. At them. At Damien for being smart enough to retreat before the fight turned against him.

"He took her," I continued, voice breaking again. "Snapped a silver collar around her neck and dragged her away. She was screaming. Fighting. I could smell her skin burning." I covered my face with my hands. "Then she just... went limp. And they vanished into the trees."

My shoulders heaved with sobs. "I crawled to Orion. Tried to help him. But he was already gone. And they'd carved that message into his back. Like his death was just a way to send a message to Alpha Kaelen."

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. I could hear the wind in the trees, the ragged breathing of the guards, the distant call of a night bird. Finally, Lucian stood. His movements were slow, deliberate. When he spoke, his voice had changed. Softer. Almost gentle.

"You should have come to us immediately when she called. Even if she threatened you with punishment. You should have trusted that we'd protect you from any consequences."

I looked up at him, letting hope and guilt war across my face. "I know. I thought—I thought if I was with her, at least she wouldn't be alone. That maybe I could keep her safe until you arrived. But I was wrong." My voice cracked. "I failed her. Failed Orion. Failed the entire pack."

Lucian reached down, offering his hand. I took it, let him pull me to my feet. My injured leg buckled and he caught me, his grip strong and steady.

"You're badly hurt. We need to get you back to the hospital."

"I don't matter," I protested weakly. "Find her. Please. Before it's too late."

He studied my face for a long moment. Then nodded. "We will. I promise you, we will bring Luna Seraphine home."

Liar. Just like me.

He turned to his guards. "Saber, Jenna—escort Vespera back to the packhouse. Stay with her. Make sure she gets medical attention. And protection."

"The rest of you, spread out. Search pattern alpha. Look for tracks, scents, anything that might tell us which direction they went." Lucian's voice was pure command now. Beta authority that made even the most dominant wolves straighten up.

"And someone bring Orion home. He deserves a proper burial. He died a hero."

A hero. Sure. If throwing yourself stupidly at overwhelming odds counted as heroism.

"I just wish I'd been stronger," I whispered. Let my voice crack. "Maybe then Orion would still be alive. Maybe then Luna would be safe."

"This isn't your fault," Lucian said firmly. "You did everything you could against impossible odds."

Yes. I did.

Saber and Jenna began guiding me through the trees, back toward pack lands. I let myself lean heavier on Saber, let exhaustion show in every line of my body. Behind us, I could hear Lucian giving more orders, his voice tight with barely controlled rage.

The hospital lights appeared through the trees ahead. Home. Safety. Or at least the illusion of it.

My mind was already racing ahead. Calculating. Damien had Seraphine. Kaelen would return to find his mate gone and his Gamma dead. The pack would be in chaos. And I—cast-out, forgiven omega who'd tried so hard to help—would be right there when he needed someone to lean on.

Someone who understood his pain. Someone who'd always been there. Someone who wasn't Seraphine.