chapter 114
Tori's POV:
I woke to sunlight streaming through the windows and an empty space beside me.
I vaguely remembered him getting up earlier, how he had pulled me against his chest when I stirred.
"Go back to sleep, little wolf," he had murmured, his voice deep with authority yet gentle. "I need to handle some pack boundary issues in the North. I'll be back as soon as I can."
His lips had brushed against my forehead. "Make sure you eat breakfast when you wake up."
I had drifted back to sleep then, lulled by his warmth and the promise of his return.
Lucas had left as he'd said he would, but the lingering scent of cedar and snow on the pillow reassured me that last night hadn't been a dream.
My fingers drifted to the mark on my neck, still sensitive to the touch.
It felt right, like I'd been waiting for this connection my entire life.
I couldn't help myself—I rolled around in the sheets, hugging his pillow close and breathing in his scent.
My phone rang, interrupting my reverie. An unfamiliar number flashed on the screen.
"Hello?" I answered cautiously.
"Ms. Sullivan? This is Roman Pierce, Alpha Grayson's legal counsel. I'm calling to arrange a meeting to discuss your case. Would you be available to meet at Alpha Lucas's residence in an hour?"
The formality in his voice made me sit up straighter. "Yes, that would be fine."
"Excellent. I'll see you then."
Martha had prepared breakfast, a spread of fresh fruit, pastries, and coffee waiting for me when I finally made my way downstairs.
I stared at the food, not feeling particularly hungry despite the delicious aroma.
But then Lucas's words echoed in my mind: "Make sure you eat breakfast when you wake up."
I smiled to myself, imagining his stern expression if he found out I'd skipped a meal.
My Alpha had given me a directive, even if it was a gentle one. With a sigh that was more contentment than resignation, I settled into the chair and methodically worked my way through the plate Martha set before me.
By the time I finished the last bite of blueberry pancake, I had to admit I felt better.
Roman Pierce was already waiting when I arrived, a tall man with sharp features and calculating eyes.
He rose when I entered, offering a brief but professional smile.
"Ms. Sullivan, thank you for meeting with me." He gestured to the chair across from him.
On the desk between us lay a blue folder, closed but clearly filled with documents.
"Alpha Lucas has instructed me to prepare a comprehensive appeal regarding your case from five years ago," he explained, opening the folder. "I've drafted the necessary documents based on the evidence he's collected."
He slid the first document toward me. "This is the formal criminal appeal to the Wolf Council."
"The second document," Roman continued, producing another paper, "is a criminal complaint against Fiona Price for solicitation of harm."
My breath caught. After five years, someone was finally acknowledging what I'd always known—Fiona had set me up.
The validation was both vindicating and painful.
"What happens now?" I asked, my voice steadier than I felt.
"Once you sign these documents, I'll file them with the Wolf Council. Yours will likely be expedited. Fiona will be summoned for questioning within days."
I stared at the formal complaint before me. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself for the inevitable backlash.
The Grayson family would have questions, maybe even anger.
Yet my hand didn't hesitate. I took the pen and signed my name with decisive strokes on every marked line.
This wasn't just about clearing my name—it was about justice for my brother Ryan.
After Roman left with the signed documents, I spent the rest of the day in a state of nervous anticipation.
I expected my phone to explode with angry calls and messages, but strangely, there was silence from the Grayson household.
The calm broke just after dinner.
My phone lit up with Hannah Sullivan's name, and I braced myself before answering.
"How dare you!" Her voice crackled with fury. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"
I remained silent, letting her rage wash over me.
She continued. "Fiona was taken in for questioning this afternoon. Questioning! Like some common criminal! She's pregnant, for heaven's sake! She's carrying Ethan's child—the Grayson baby—and you're trying to destroy her life!"
I kept my voice level.
"Did you ever know Fiona did what to me? "
I could practically hear her indignation through the speaker as her voice rose in pitch.
"It doesn't matter what she did, that's all in the past," Hannah snapped, her words clipped and hostile even through the slight distortion of the call. "Isn't your time in prison enough? Do you need to send her there too?"
I closed my eyes, grateful that she couldn't see my expression.
"Ryan is dead because of her," I replied, my voice dropping to a temperature that seemed to chill the air around me. "Fiona worked with Noah Morris to set me up. They orchestrated everything, and an innocent person died."
The line went silent for a moment, and I could hear Hannah's uneven breathing.
"You've never once asked what really happened that night," I continued. "Not once in five years did you question whether your stepdaughter might actually be innocent. And now you're here defending the person responsible for all of it."
"Ryan's death was his own fault!" Hannah spat. "He should never have interfered."
The casual cruelty of her words stunned me. My fingers tightened around the phone as ice spread through my veins.
Hannah hissed. "And if anything happens to Fiona's baby because of this stress you're causing, I will never forgive you. Hasn't taking one child from me been enough for you?"
I felt as though I'd been slapped.
I knew Hannah had never cared for me—that much had been clear since my childhood. But to hear her speak so callously about her own nephew's death... it elevated my understanding of her coldness to an entirely new level.
There was nothing left to say. No words could bridge the chasm between us.
With a swift, decisive movement, I disconnected the call.