Chapter 167

Chapter 167
Lucas's POV

Wesley.

Of course it was about that asshole.

Asher somehow got his hands on him and only told Arabella. And worse—he didn't want Alexander to know about it.

I mean, there's only one reason for that, right? He didn't want us involved. Didn't want us getting mixed up in whatever crazy shit he was planning.

But he could've at least told me and Tristan. That's just basic respect.

Did he seriously think Arabella could keep it from Alexander? She's amazing at a lot of things, but lying? Fuck no. Her poker face is absolute garbage. And anyway, she and Alexander aren't just close. They're like... tangled up in each other's heads. Nobody outside gets it.

I've seen it plenty of times.

What he thinks, she feels. What she tries to hide, he digs right out.

That connection between them would make most people jealous as hell.

But me? I'm actually relieved. Makes it easier to keep our woman safe. And it doesn't mess with how I feel about her or Alexander, or even how I've been feeling about Tristan lately, which has... changed.

"Tell me where he is. I won't ask a second time," Alexander growled, his voice low and dangerous as he kept Arabella pinned on his lap.

Tristan and I traded looks. We stayed put, but we were both checking the room's vibe. Ready to jump in if shit got real.

Not that we really thought Alexander would hurt her—he wouldn't.

Even now, with him pissed as hell, most of that anger wasn't aimed at Arabella.

Asher was the one he wanted to rip apart.

But Arabella keeping secrets? That cut deep.

We'd already punished her more than once for not trusting us, for trying to handle everything on her own. I know she meant well, thought she was protecting us, but Alexander wasn't gonna see it that way.

Not right now anyway.

Across from us, Asher was still sitting there with one leg crossed over the other, acting like he wasn't worried, like he was just waiting for Alexander to finish his tantrum.

But I caught it.

That little shake in his fingers around his glass rim.

His jaw clenched way too tight.

He knew.

He knew he was in deep shit. And I think for once, he was actually scared.

He should be.

'Cause if he didn't start talking soon, Alexander might actually kill him.

And at this point? Tristan and I might just grab some popcorn and watch.

"Alexander, she really doesn't know," Asher finally said, trying to sound calm but I heard that nervous edge. "I didn't tell her exactly where Wesley is. Just that she didn't have to worry about that piece of shit anymore."

Alexander's body went stiff as a board.

His burning eyes slowly lifted to Asher, turning darker, hotter.

Like a snake about to strike, he moved Arabella off his lap. Wasn't gentle, wasn't rough either. Just enough to focus on his real target.

"Go upstairs, Arabella," he ordered, his voice hard as steel.

Damn, this was about to get ugly.

Asher, you're so fucked.

But Arabella didn't budge. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring straight at Alexander. "I'm not going anywhere. And whatever you do, Asher won't tell you. He promised."

Alexander's eyes narrowed, his head tilting like he was thinking something over.

"When did you start giving orders, Puppy?" His voice was scary quiet, but I could hear the danger underneath. "This isn't your decision to make."

She lifted her chin. "Since the moment I decided I wasn't leaving your side, this became my decision."

His jaw clenched, his hands gripping the chair arms as he held himself back. "That's not how this works, Arabella. You don't decide what fights I pick."

Arabella's voice got louder, angry and desperate: "And what if you get hurt, Alexander? What about the pack? You think I can sit by and watch the Black Moon declare war on us just so you can personally take him out?"

Fuck, her standing up to him like that was making my dick hard. Her bravery, her fire—I had to shift in my seat to adjust myself, hoping Asher wouldn't notice. That'd be awkward as hell.

Tristan shot me a look, his mouth twitching as he shook his head, silently telling me to get my shit together.

I flashed him a grin, mouthing "Can't help it."

Alexander finally laughed, but it was cold as ice—just darkness and rage barely held back. "Puppy, I'm the Alpha. This shit is my job."

"If there's a war," her voice shook, but she stood her ground, "we all lose. The pack loses."

Arabella climbed back onto his lap, grabbed his face and kissed him—soft but determined, begging him to listen.

When she pulled back, she asked, "You want this to end? Never kissing me like this again, never holding me like this?"

Alexander's nostrils flared, about to speak when she pushed on: "If there's even a tiny chance it could get you—or Lucas or Tristan—involved..." She glanced at us before looking back at him, her voice firm. "Is it worth the risk? For what? Wesley's already dead meat anyway."

I felt proud watching her. She wasn't a fighter like us, but damn if she didn't have balls of steel. She was trying to protect all of us in her own way. Even if she was going about it all wrong.

Alexander's face was hard to read, but I saw the battle in his eyes. His wolf wanted blood—Wesley's blood specifically—but he couldn't ignore her logic. A war with Black Moon would be a disaster, especially with Arabella carrying his babies.

Tristan and I kept our mouths shut, letting them work it out. Sometimes you gotta let Alexander burn through his anger, find his own path to the smart choice. Push him and he'll do the opposite just to prove he can.

The tension in the room was thick as fuck while we all waited. Asher caught my eye for a second, and I saw something rare there—gratitude. He knew Arabella might be the only one who could talk Alexander down.

But one thing was clear—this shit wasn't over. Alexander might back off for now, but he wouldn't forget. And Asher would have to answer for his secrets eventually.

Right now though, I was more worried about Arabella. Standing up to Alexander like that was brave, but it wouldn't go unpunished. I just hoped she knew what she was getting herself into.