Chapter 28 Twenty eight
Harper’s pov
Everyone was looking at each other, whispers sliding through the hall like restless wind. Fear, doubt, curiosity—it was everywhere.
Alpha Derek exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw as if the entire situation was nothing more than an inconvenience.
“What’s happening here?” my mother called out, her voice shaking slightly as she looked at him. “Derek?”
I watched him carefully.
He didn’t look panicked.
He didn’t look exposed.
He looked… calculated.
“Well,” he said, stepping forward, straightening his suit as if preparing for a speech at a charity gala instead of defending the imprisonment of his own son, “I suppose I have to come clean.”
My stomach tightened.
Come clean?
What was he about to say?
There was no way he could deny that video. It was clearly Koda chained in a dungeon. Clearly screaming. Clearly—
Possessed.
Alpha Derek walked toward the center of the stage as the lighting adjusted, casting him in a golden glow. The hall quieted instinctively. Wolves respected power, and Derek carried it like a crown.
He lifted a hand, commanding silence without raising his voice.
“I would first like to welcome everyone who came today,” he began smoothly. “Family. Friends. Pack members. Allies.”
Murmurs softened.
“As you all have seen,” he continued, glancing briefly at the frozen image of red eyes on the projector, “my son is going through… a great deal.”
He paused deliberately.
Sympathy bait.
“I did not want this to overshadow what should have been a beautiful union,” he added, nodding toward my mother, who looked utterly confused. “But perhaps the Moon Goddess believes the truth should be shared.”
Oh, he was good.
Too good.
“Well, you see,” he continued, lowering his voice just enough to sound vulnerable, “my son was attacked as a child. Many of you know this.”
Some older wolves nodded.
Kai’s jaw tightened beside me.
“A rogue wolf,” Derek went on, “one that had already been corrupted by dark magic. During the attack, something happened. A fragment of that creature attached itself to Koda.”
Gasps rippled through the hall.
“It was not his fault,” Derek said quickly. “My son has been fighting this… presence… for years.”
Presence.
He made it sound like a mild illness.
I clenched my fists.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” someone shouted from the back.
“Because,” Derek replied calmly, “we were handling it.”
Handling it.
By chaining him underground?
He sighed deeply, as though burdened by fatherly pain.
“As Alpha, I carry responsibilities beyond my own blood. When the possession began to worsen recently, I had to make a difficult decision.”
His eyes swept the crowd.
“I restrained him.”
Restrained.
The word was so clean.
So gentle.
“You chained him in a dungeon!” someone yelled.
“To protect this pack!” Derek thundered suddenly, his aura flaring just enough to silence the room.
The chandeliers trembled slightly from the surge of power.
“If that entity fully takes control, none of you would survive,” he said darkly. “You heard it yourselves. Its threats. Its rage.”
The crowd shifted uneasily.
He was redirecting their fear.
Smart.
“He has attacked guards before,” Derek continued. “He nearly harmed Kai when we first discovered the extent of the corruption.”
All eyes turned to Kai.
Kai didn’t deny it.
That silence worked in Derek’s favor.
“I consulted elders,” Derek added. “I sought witches. I sought healers. Nothing has worked.”
He bowed his head slightly.
“So yes. I confined my son. Not as punishment. Not out of cruelty. But because I love him. And because I love this pack more.”
A wave of murmurs rose again.
Confusion.
Sympathy.
Doubt.
“He’s lying,” I whispered under my breath.
Kai shot me a warning look.
Derek stepped forward again, lowering his voice to something almost fragile.
“No father should have to chain his child,” he said. “But I would rather have my son hate me than have any of you dead.”
That line hit.
I saw it.
The shift.
A few people nodded.
My mother’s face softened.
No.
No, no, no.
He turned toward me then.
“And Harper,” he said gently, as if I were a misguided child, “I understand why you are upset.”
The audacity.
“You stumbled upon something terrifying without knowing the full story.”
Full story?
“You exposed a private family matter during what should have been a sacred ceremony,” he added, not harshly—but firmly.
Now the room was looking at me.
Judging.
“She was protecting us,” someone argued weakly.
“From what?” Derek countered smoothly. “From my son’s suffering?”
The screen behind him still showed Koda’s glowing eyes.
Derek gestured to it.
“That voice you heard… that is not Koda. That is the entity inside him. It manipulates. It lies. It twists truth.”
He looked directly at the audience.
“If you believe for one second that I would endanger this pack for power, then you do not know me.”
His aura flared again—controlled, dominant.
Alpha energy.
Wolves responded to strength.
“And today,” he continued, “I was marrying Samantha not for politics—but because I wish to build a stable future.”
He reached for my mother’s hand.
She hesitated.
Just slightly.
“I wanted transparency eventually,” he said softly. “But not like this.”
The crowd began murmuring again, but the fear was no longer aimed solely at him.
It was divided.
Split.
Strategically redirected.
“You buried him!” I shouted, stepping forward. “He begged for help!”
“And what did it say while begging?” Derek snapped, his patience thinning for the first time. “That it would kill all of you.”
Silence fell.
“He is unstable,” Derek said more quietly. “Until we find a permanent solution, containment is necessary.”
Containment.
Again with the soft words.
“You’re using him,” I said, my voice shaking but loud. “You’re hiding something bigger.”
Derek’s gaze hardened.
“Be careful, Harper.”
The warning wasn’t loud.
But it was heavy.
My mother stepped forward suddenly.
“Derek,” she whispered. “Is he… dangerous right now?”
Derek looked at her like a wounded hero.
“Yes.”
Just one word.
“Yes.”
Gasps.
Someone near the back stood. “If he’s possessed… can it spread?”
“No,” Derek replied immediately. “It is bound to him.”
Convenient.
“I have the situation under control,” he assured them. “There is no threat to this wedding. No threat to this pack.”
The confidence in his voice wrapped around the room like a blanket.
Safety.
Authority.
Reassurance.
He turned back to the officiant.
“I apologize for the interruption,” he said smoothly. “Shall we continue?”
And that’s when I realized something terrifying.
He wasn’t losing.
He was winning.
The fear I tried to ignite was being reshaped into loyalty.
Doubt was being painted as protection.
Koda’s suffering was being turned into sacrifice.
My mother looked at me, conflicted.
“Harper,” she said quietly, “did you… know about this?”
I opened my mouth.
But what could I say?
I couldn’t prove more than the video.
And Derek had just wrapped that video in a narrative strong enough to hold the room.
“He’s not telling you everything,” I insisted.
Derek smiled faintly.
“Perhaps,” he said calmly, “when Koda is healed, he can tell you himself.”
If he’s healed.
If.
The officiant cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Shall we… proceed?”
The room hesitated.
Alpha Derek lifted his chin.
Power radiated off him again, not aggressive—just dominant.
Slowly.
Reluctantly.
People sat back down.
My chest tightened.
Was this really happening?
Was he really going to walk away from this?
My mother looked torn, but the pressure of the room was heavy. Expectations. Politics. Status.
Derek leaned closer to her.
“You trust me,” he murmured softly enough that only those close could hear.
She closed her eyes for a second.
Then nodded.
The officiant lifted his book again.
“I now pronounce you—”
And I stood there, heart racing, realizing something horrifying.
I had shaken the hall.
But I hadn’t broken him.
And if he survived this…
Koda would never see the light again.
Not as a victim.
But as a weapon.
And I suddenly understood—
Alpha Derek wasn’t afraid of the truth.
He was prepared for it.
Which meant…
He had been planning for this possibility all along.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife.”
The words echoed through the hall like a final hammer striking a coffin.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Alpha Derek turned to my mother—Samantha—and placed his hands on her waist with practiced tenderness. The crowd leaned forward. Cameras lifted. Phones recorded.
And then he kissed her.
Applause exploded through the hall.
Cheers.
Clapping.
Whistles.
It sounded like celebration.
To me, it sounded like defeat.
My ears rang as if I were underwater. The projector screen behind them had already gone dark. The evidence I’d fought to present was now reduced to whispers and excuses.
He had twisted everything.
Turned chains into protection.
Turned cruelty into sacrifice.
Turned my warning into an outburst.
And the worst part?
They believed him.
I stood frozen while people lined up to congratulate the “strongest alpha” and his “brave bride.”
Samantha looked radiant. Smiling. Glowing.
Clueless.
Or maybe choosing to be.
My throat tightened painfully.
I failed.
I was supposed to stop this.
I was supposed to save her.
Save Koda.
Instead, I handed Derek a stage.
A spotlight.
A chance to rewrite the narrative.
Slowly, Derek pulled away from my mother and whispered something to her that made her laugh softly. Then his gaze lifted.
And locked on me.
The smile on his face didn’t falter.
But his eyes changed.
Cold.
Sharp.
Victorious.
He excused himself from the crowd and began walking toward me.
Each step felt deliberate.
Predatory.
My heartbeat picked up.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
He stopped in front of me, towering as always, his presence swallowing the space around us.
“Impressive attempt,” he murmured quietly, just loud enough for me to hear over the music beginning to play again. “Very bold.”
I swallowed.
He leaned slightly closer, his voice dropping.
“But this isn’t over.”
The words slid down my spine like ice.
“You embarrassed me today,” he continued smoothly. “You exposed private matters without understanding them.”
“You’re lying,” I whispered, though it sounded weak even to my own ears.
His lips curved faintly.
“Truth,” he said softly, “is whatever people believe.”
My stomach dropped.
“And today,” he added, glancing around at the laughing guests, “they believed me.”
He straightened his suit jacket.
“You should have stayed out of this, Harper.”
The warning wasn’t dramatic.
It was calm.
And that made it worse.
He stepped past me, returning to the crowd as though we had just discussed the weather.
My hands were shaking.
My heart wouldn’t slow down.
Maybe… maybe I should have taken the One’s offer.
The thought came suddenly.
Unwanted.
But persistent.
He said he could destroy the wedding.
He wasn’t wrong.
Alpha Derek was cunning. Calculating. Ten steps ahead.
And I had walked right into his game.
My chest tightened.
No.
No, I couldn’t think like that.
The One wasn’t the answer.
He was worse.
But standing there, watching my mother smile beside a man who chained his own son, I felt something inside me crack.
My mother.
My life.
Everything ruined.
Music swelled around me as the reception began. People were dancing now. Laughing. Drinking.
How could they celebrate?
How could they move on so easily?
I tried to take a step back.
The room tilted slightly.
I blinked.
Why did everything look… blurry?
I shook my head, trying to focus.
But the lights seemed too bright.
Voices overlapped strangely, stretching and echoing.
My heart was beating too fast.
Too loud.
I pressed a hand to my chest.
Breathe.
Just breathe.
I tried to walk toward the exit.
One step.
Two.
The floor felt uneven.
My vision split slightly.
Doubled.
I blinked harder.
People’s faces blurred together.
Laughter warped into something distorted.
My head spun.
What’s happening—
“Harper?”
The voice sounded distant.
Like it was coming through water.
I turned slightly, but the movement made everything worse. The chandelier above fractured into two. Then three.
My ears rang.
I tasted metal.
My knees felt weak.
No.
Not now.
Not here.
I reached out to grab onto something—anything—but my hand closed around empty air.
The last thing I heard was someone shouting my name.
“Harper!”
Then—
Darkness rushed up to meet me.
And the world disappeared.