Chapter 25 The Truth

Chapter 25 The Truth
Maya Pov

"You're lying." I found my voice again, found the strength to stand and face him across the table. "You're twisting the truth, manipulating evidence, creating a narrative that justifies what you did to me. Those medical records we found today—that's the real evidence. That's proof of your crimes, not mine."

"Medical records of me trying to help genetically modified wolves control their violent impulses." Marcus's expression was patient, understanding, the picture of a misunderstood savior. "Records of treatments designed to suppress the dangerous aspects of their modifications before someone else got killed. Yes, some of those treatments were painful. Yes, some patients complained about abuse. But would they rather I did nothing? Rather I let them become murderers like you?"

The logic was twisted, horrifying, but I could see it working on the assembled pack members. Fear flickered in their eyes as they looked at me, fear of what I might be capable of, what violence might lurk beneath my surface. Marcus was painting me as a ticking time bomb, and them as potential victims if I wasn't controlled.

"The Council will hear about this." Ryker's voice was ice cold, Alpha power flooding every word. "They'll investigate your claims, examine this supposed evidence, and determine the truth. You don't get to convict Maya based on a letter that conveniently appears after twenty years."

"The Council already knows." Marcus smiled, and something in that smile made my blood run cold. "I contacted them this afternoon after your people broke into my private storage and stole confidential medical files. They're sending investigators tomorrow to interview all parties and examine the evidence from both sides. I'm confident they'll reach the correct conclusion."

My legs nearly gave out. The Council was coming. They'd see the confession letter, hear Marcus's version of events, look at me with the same fear and disgust I saw in the pack members' faces. And what defense did I have? Denials? Claims that I didn't remember writing a letter my own DNA confirmed was real?

Ryker's arm wrapped around my waist, holding me upright. "This conversation is over. Maya needs rest, and we need time to prepare our evidence for the Council's arrival."

"Of course." Marcus gestured graciously toward the door. "Please, take all the time you need. The guest wing is yours for the night. Though I should warn you—after tomorrow's investigation, Maya may be placed in Council custody pending a full psychiatric evaluation. For everyone's safety, you understand."

The threat was clear. Marcus had maneuvered us into a corner where even if we presented our evidence of his abuse, he could counter with evidence of my supposed violence. The Council would have to weigh his systematic cruelty against my potential for murder, and which would they consider more dangerous?

We left the dining hall in silence, the weight of dozens of stares following us down the corridor. No one spoke until we'd reached our room and locked the door behind us. Then Kade exploded.

"That letter is fake. It has to be. There's no way Maya wrote that at age seven."

"The handwriting analysis says otherwise." Owen paced the room, his analytical mind already working through the evidence. "If Marcus fabricated this, he did it years ago and did it perfectly. The paper aging, the DNA evidence, the handwriting—it's all too precise to be a rush job."

"Or Maya actually wrote it and doesn't remember." Ryker spoke the words I'd been thinking but couldn't say aloud. "Trauma can cause memory loss, especially in children. If she did have a psychotic episode, if she did write this confession, her mind might have blocked it out as a protective measure."

I sank onto the sofa, my hands still shaking. "I don't remember writing it. I don't remember anything about the night my parents died except waking up in Marcus's custody. He told me they'd been killed by rogues, that I was lucky to survive. I believed him for years."

"Because you were seven and traumatized." Ryker knelt in front of me, taking my hands in his. "Whatever happened that night, whatever role you may or may not have played, you were a child. A child who'd been experimented on by her own parents, who was dealing with modifications she didn't understand. None of that makes you a monster."

But the doubt had taken root. I could feel it growing in my chest, dark and poisonous. What if Marcus was right? What if I had killed my parents during some kind of episode triggered by genetic modifications? What if the violence he'd spent years trying to suppress was real, and I'd just been too damaged to remember it?

"I need to meet Leo." The words came out before I'd fully thought them through. "Tonight. In the garden like his note said."

"Absolutely not." Ryker stood, his expression hardening. "It's obviously a trap. Marcus is using his son to lure you out alone so he can—"

"So he can what? Kill me? He could have done that anytime in the five years I lived here. Frame me for more crimes? He's already done that with the confession letter." I stood to face him, feeling anger replace the doubt and fear. "Leo called himself my brother, Ryker. He mouthed the word across the dinner table where everyone could see. If he knows something about my past, about my real family, I need to hear it."

"Then I'm coming with you." Ryker's tone left no room for argument. "You can meet Leo, talk to him, ask your questions. But I stay close enough to intervene if anything goes wrong."

We stared at each other, neither willing to back down. This was our first real argument, our first clash of wills where compromise seemed impossible. I needed autonomy, needed to face this mystery on my own terms. But he needed to protect me, couldn't bear the thought of letting me walk into potential danger without backup.

"Fine." I spoke first, breaking the stalemate. "You can shadow me from a distance. Stay hidden, don't interfere unless Leo tries something violent. But this conversation needs to happen, Ryker. I need to know if he's really my brother, if there's more family out there I never knew about."

"And if it is a trap?" Owen asked quietly. "If Marcus is using Leo to get to you?"

"Then we'll deal with it." I looked at each of them—Ryker, Kade, Owen—these people who'd become my family, my pack, my home. "But I can't spend my life running from every potential threat. Marcus has controlled me through fear for too long. That ends now."

The hours until midnight crawled past like years. We reviewed the medical records again, looking for any connection between the documented abuse and the confession letter. Kade worked on verifying the letter's authenticity, using software to analyze the handwriting and paper composition. Owen researched Council procedures for psychiatric evaluations, trying to determine wh
at rights I'd have if they decided to detain me.