Chapter 42 Chapter Forty-Two
The silence was deafening.
A stillness so absolute, it rang louder than any outcry. Not a breath stirred. Not a rustle of cloth or scrape of boot against the floor. Just the weight of anticipation pressing down on every soul in the chamber.
And then — finally — Alpha Garrick looked at her.
Kaelani’s breath halted.
It was the first time his eyes had met hers since she’d been dragged into that chamber, since the lies began pouring from his mouth. Now, in that single glance, she saw it all — the guilt, the strain, the crumbling edges of a secret too long buried.
Her face hardened, though disbelief and betrayal pulsed behind her eyes.
All this time… he knew who my father was.
The Elder’s voice broke through the quiet, calm but edged with finality.
“If you refuse to answer, Alpha Garrick, you will wait in a cell of your own while the Council conducts its own paternity test. You will not delay these proceedings further.”
Garrick was sweating now. Maybe not visibly, but the shift in his posture, the tightening of his jaw, the way his throat bobbed — it was all there.
The silence stretched on again. Longer this time. He said nothing.
A sharp nod from the Elder.
“Guards. Take him into custody.”
The hiss of movement broke the tension. Several guards approached the glass enclosure — their steps swift, sure, in unison.
Garrick shot to his feet.
“It’s me!” he exclaimed. Then softer, collapsing into the truth as though it tore itself from him. “It’s me… I am… Kaelani’s father.”
Gasps cracked like thunder through the chamber.
Elara’s mouth shot open as if the air had been ripped from her lungs, her eyes wide with disbelief. The smug composure she always wore like warpaint crumbled in real time — shock contorting into rage, into something feral and ugly.
That Omega rat. That bitch. Her sister?
Christian recoiled like he’d been struck, his head jerking back as the truth landed with violent force.
The color drained from his face, and his expression shifted from confusion to horror as he stared at his father — betrayal etched in every line.
But Brielle — Brielle clutched the straps of her handbag as if it were the only thing anchoring her. Her lips trembled. Her eyes welled. Fury and heartbreak warred across her face.
Across the chamber, Julian sat frozen. His mother’s hand pressed against her chest, stunned. His father, always stone-faced, had gone utterly still.
And beside them, Jace exhaled — a long, low breath of release. The truth he’d carried alone for days now danced freely in the air, heavy but unburdened at last.
Kaelani didn’t move at first.
She couldn’t.
Not from shock, but from pure, unfiltered anger.
It rooted her there, pulsing through every vein like wildfire.
Her entire body trembled as the truth settled—no, seared—into place.
Her life. Her entire life.
All those nights on a threadbare cot in the orphanage, alone. Cold.
All those mornings, rising before dawn to scrub floors and cook for people who never even looked at her like she mattered.
She’d waited on them—on him, on his family. She endured his daughter’s mockery and sneers, his son’s disgusting behavior, while every other privileged child laughed as she bled from their pranks.
She’d been called a stray. An Omega rat. A dirty orphan. A wolfless nobody.
But she hadn’t been abandoned by someone nameless.
It had been him.
It was always him.
Now she was staring at him, and he knew.
He saw it on her face—the realization, the betrayal, the unrelenting rage.
Her hands were clenched so tightly her nails carved half-moons into her palms.
The tears in her eyes didn’t fall—they burned, held back by pride alone.
Garrick flinched under the weight of her glare, then snapped.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he barked, voice rising in pitch. “You were taken care of, weren’t you? You had shelter. Food. Clothes. I saw to it you were given autonomy, didn’t I? Freed from the shame of being wolfless. I gave you money to start your life—”
Kaelani’s voice cut through him.
“No,” she said, voice razor-sharp.
Her head shook slowly, like she couldn’t believe he had the audacity.
“You didn’t free me.”
“You did what you do best…”
“You buried your mistakes and called it mercy.”
Brielle surged to her feet from the Council gallery, sharp and sudden, eyes blazing, voice trembling with outrage. “You betrayed the mate bond!”
Gasps rippled again—softer this time, stunned by the outburst. But she didn’t care. Her gaze was locked on him now, the man she mated, bore children with, stood beside for decades. A man she no longer recognized.
“How could you?” she seethed, her voice cracking. “You lied to me. To our family. You’ve made a mockery of everything we built.”
Garrick stepped forward in his glass enclosure, palms pressed to the barrier.
“Brielle, no—you don’t understand. I was tricked! It’s not what you think.” His voice pitched with desperation. “She was conceived before you and I were mated. Before the ceremony. It meant nothing—”
But Brielle was already shaking her head, backing away.
Her lips pressed into a thin line. Her silence said everything.
She turned sharply and strode out, the echo of her heels fading through the corridor as Garrick’s voice called after her—strained, hollow.
“Brielle. Brielle!”
She didn’t look back.
Garrick slumped down in his chair, the weight of his own confession suffocating him.
His shoulders had sagged. His hands, once clenched in defiance, now hung limp against his knees. The shame, the guilt—it radiated from him in waves, thick and bitter. He stared down at the floor, jaw tight, lips pressed in a grim line. A man unmade by his own lies.
The Elder exhaled slowly, the sound weary.
“You mentioned she was wolfless,” he said, tone edged in quiet reproach. “Tell me—did you ever seek treatment from your pack’s physician? For her condition?”
Garrick didn’t answer.
“Many times,” the Elder continued, “a wolf fails to emerge because of trauma. Abuse. Psychological damage. Which, given what I’ve seen and heard today, I wouldn’t doubt for a moment this young woman has endured.”
Still, Garrick said nothing. He merely shook his head, slow and defeated.
“No,” he murmured. “I never did.”
His voice was hoarse. And he didn’t look up. He couldn’t. Not at Kaelani. Not at his mate’s empty seat. Not at the dozens of eyes fixed on him with disgust and disbelief.
The Elder straightened in his chair.
“She is your daughter, Alpha Garrick. Your blood. And as such, she is your responsibility. You will ensure she receives the same care your other children would have received in her place. She will return to Silveredge under your watch, and you will see to it that she is treated—by a licensed physician and a qualified psychiatric specialist.”
A rustle of chains broke the air.
“I am not going back to Silveredge!” Kaelani’s voice exploded across the chamber.
The Elder’s gaze shifted to Kaelani.
Something in his expression had changed—no longer stern or impassive, but touched with something quieter. Something closer to sympathy.
He turned to the guards.
“Help her up,” he said. “Remove the restraints.”
They moved toward her with more care this time, one of them gently guiding her to her feet as the other unlocked the shackles from her wrists. A soft clink echoed through the chamber as the chains fell away.
The Elder spoke again, this time addressing her and her alone.
“Miss Kaelani, it is against the Lycan Code for one of our kind to live permanently among humans. Though your wolf has not fully emerged, it is there. You have gone into heat. You carry a scent.”
He glanced toward Garrick without kindness.
“She must be evaluated by a Lycan specialist. With proper care, her wolf may still fully awaken.”
Suddenly—firm, clear, resolute—
“She can come to Blackthorn.”
The words shot across the room like a lightning strike.
All heads turned as Julian rose from his seat, eyes locked on the Elder.
His father reached out sharply, grabbing his arm and trying to pull him back down.
“Have you lost your mind?” he hissed.
But Julian shrugged him off without hesitation.
“I will be her Alpha,” he declared. “And I will ensure she receives the care she deserves.”
A tense beat passed. And then—
“She’s Silveredge property!” Elara shouted, springing to her feet.
Julian’s head snapped toward her, eyes burning with revulsion.
“She’s not a piece of property!”
“Oh, but you want to make her your piece of property, don’t you?” Elara snapped, venom in every word.
“Silence!” the Elder’s voice boomed, reverberating through the chamber like a crack of thunder.
“I’ve just about had enough of you for one day, Alpha Julian.” His voice resounded across the chamber. “Need I remind you that you are still to be held accountable for failing to report your encounter with a misplaced Lycan? Your actions alone violate three separate codes of conduct.”
Julian’s voice was sharp with conviction. “Isn’t it obvious why I didn’t report her?” He swept his arm toward Garrick, fury bleeding through every word. “Look at the shitshow of a pack she was forced to survive in. The abuse, the cover-up, the negligence. She was thrown away—humiliated, abused, ignored. When her bloodwork came back with dominant Alpha markers, I knew something was wrong. Something was being hidden.”
Kaelani’s brows furrowed, her eyes fixed on him. “Wait…” Her voice was low, stunned. “You ran tests on me?”
Julian froze as he met her gaze, guilt radiating from every line of his face.
“You knew I wasn’t an Omega?” she continued, her tone rising with disbelief. “You knew—and you kept that from me?”
The entire chamber seemed to shrink.
Julian’s lips parted, but no words came out at first. Shame settled across his features like storm clouds. Regret hit him in waves — raw, heavy, and unspoken.
Julian finally spoke, but his voice lacked its usual surety.
“I—I was waiting,” he stammered. “For more answers. I didn’t want to say anything until I—until we—”
Kaelani let out a bitter laugh, eyes narrowing.
“You know what? Save it.”
She straightened as best she could, chains gone but fury still shackled to her limbs.
“I’m not going with anyone,” she snapped. “Not to the Blackthorn pack. And I sure as fuck am not going back to Silveredge.”
The room held its breath as her voice rose, thick with anger and defiance.
“I paid my dues. And I couldn’t care less about your Lycan codes. What the fuck have they ever done for me?”
Her gaze swept across the stunned Council.
“What have your precious codes done for any of us? For the mistreated? The trafficked? The enslaved Omegas rotting away in Silveredge or goddess knows how many other packs just like it?”
Julian’s mother leaned subtly toward Jace, her lips barely moving.
“She’s got some fire in her,” she murmured, a glint of admiration in her eyes.
Jace’s mouth curved into a smirk.
But the Elder’s voice rose again, cutting through the charged air like a blade.
“Miss Kaelani, you will watch your tongue in this chamber, or we will hold you in contempt.”
Kaelani’s eyes narrowed in opposition, but before she could retort, the Elder pressed on.
“You will be returned to Silveredge. It is your rightful pack.”
Her body stilled.
Then—“No,” she said, breath catching in her throat.
She began to back away slowly, step by step toward the chamber doors.
“You can’t do this,” she whispered. Her voice trembled—not with fear, but with mounting panic. “You can’t—”
“Guards,” the Elder ordered sharply. “Do not let her leave.”
The same two guards that brought her there moved swiftly toward her.
Kaelani turned, panic flashing across her face as she made a run for the exit, but they caught her before she could reach it. One grabbed her left arm, the other her right.
“Let go of me!” she yelled, twisting violently. “Get your fucking hands off me!”
The Elder remained unmoved. “It is for your own good. Take her to the medical unit. Have them sedate her.”
He looked at Garrick without emotion. “She’ll return on your private jet with the rest of your family—to her home pack.”
“No!” Kaelani screamed, kicking furiously as they began dragging her toward the door. Her hair whipped across her face, her limbs thrashing in protest.
Julian surged forward, vaulting over the wooden barrier.
“It doesn’t have to be this way!” he shouted, eyes blazing.
A guard fired the taser.
Julian’s body convulsed with a violent jolt before he hit the floor. Two more guards rushed in, pinning him face down as Kaelani’s screams echoed off the chamber walls.
Then—
A violent, unearthly snarl tore through the air. Sharp. Visceral. Not human.
“I said—let go of me!” Kaelani’s voice thundered.
The two guards were hurled into the air—as if yanked by an invisible force—their bodies crashing against the chamber wall with a sickening thud, groaning as they crumpled to the floor.
Everything stopped.
Every head turned.
Every mouth fell open.
Even Julian, still pinned to the floor, twisted to look at her, eyes wide with disbelief.
Kaelani stood in the center of it all, chest heaving, arms tense at her sides. Her wrists still bore the red marks of the shackles—but it was clear now: no chain on Earth would ever hold her again.
Her face was transformed—feral, breathtaking, furious.
Fangs bared in warning.
But it was her eyes that silenced the room.
No longer gray.
They glowed—bright and violet.
It wasn’t just her wolf that had awakened.
It was all of her.
And every last person in that chamber felt it.