Chapter 281 Who is the Hunter

Chapter 281 Who is the Hunter

Ella's POV

We thought we were the hunters, but from the start, we were just the prey. Our so-called "preemptive strike" was nothing more than walking right into a carefully laid trap, foolishly believing we had the upper hand.

A massive, suffocating sense of helplessness washed over me.

I felt my knees go weak, almost unable to stand.

"I don't get what you're saying."

Mason's voice stayed steady, showing no sign of wavering.

Owen chuckled softly.

He finally reached out, his long fingers elegantly picking up the envelope. He didn't open it right away but examined the unique wax seal of the family head like it was a piece of art.

"I'm glad you found it. It proves my choice was right. Ella, my sister, you chose a partner who is sharp enough and brave enough. That reassures me."

As he spoke, he gently caressed the deep red seal with his fingertips, his gaze turning to me, filled with a tenderness that could melt hearts, just like the countless times he had looked at me in the past.

But now, that tenderness felt like poisoned honey, making me feel sick and tremble from the depths of my soul.

"What... what are you talking about?" My voice was dry and hoarse, each word squeezed out with all my strength, "Didn't you write this letter? Aren't you the 'Master'?"

The moment I asked, I felt almost faint. I clung tightly to Mason's sleeve, my nails digging into the fabric, as if only by doing so could I draw enough strength to keep from collapsing in this terrifying confrontation.

"Yes and no." Owen's answer was ambiguous, like a fog that could never be seen through.

He finally placed the letter on the table, then walked around the large desk, slowly approaching us.

With each step he took, the drumbeat in my heart grew louder.

Mason held me tighter, his body slightly leaning forward in a protective, aggressive stance.

However, Owen stopped a few steps away from us.

He didn't look at Mason but focused all his attention on me. His face showed a mix of helplessness, indulgence, and even a hint of hurt.

"Ella," he called my name softly, his voice filled with pain, "Is that how you see me? As someone who would send people to hunt down his long-lost sister, as a monster who would use such despicable means against his own family?"

Is that how I see him?

I closed my eyes in agony, afraid to look at his face. I feared that if I did, I would be completely lost in his seemingly sincere eyes, casting all doubts aside.

"The seal on that letter, you admitted yourself, is the symbol of the family head."

I forced my eyes open, making myself meet Owen's gaze.

My voice trembled with despair, "Why? Why would you do this?"

"I had no choice."

Owen's face showed deep fatigue and pain.

He raised his hand, as if to stroke my hair like he used to, but seeing my instinctive retreat and Mason's warning look, he let his hand drop slowly.

That small gesture, along with the perfectly timed hurt expression on his face, made my heart clench again.

"I know you too well, my sister. You are kind, soft-hearted, and sentimental. Forcing you to come back would only cause you pain and conflict, and besides..."

His tone hardened slightly, "Would Alpha Mason easily let you go? A Luna who could bear him the strongest heir, would he willingly let you return to another powerful Pack? I have no doubt that if our two Packs clashed because of this, the result would be a bloody war."

I listened in a daze, feeling my brain completely unable to process.

His words seemed to make some sense. I instinctively looked at Mason, seeking some reaction from him.

Mason's expression remained stern as he looked at Owen, his blue eyes like a frozen lake, deep and unfathomable.

"So, you orchestrated that attack?"

He asked coldly, "Creating chaos, making me lose my memory, giving you a chance to 'rescue' Ella? Making her resent me, so she would naturally go back with you?"

"That wasn't orchestrating, it was exploiting." Owen corrected without hesitation, "I admit, I took advantage of the chaos. But the one who created that chaos was someone else."

"Someone else?" I asked, my heart leaping into my throat again.

"Yes."

Owen's expression turned more serious than ever. He walked back to the desk, took a document from a locked drawer, and handed it to us.

"Do you think I moved the Pack's headquarters from the sunny South to this perpetually gloomy estate for no reason? Do you think I locked myself up here like a prisoner for no reason?"

I took the document, and Mason leaned in to look as well.

It was a long list of names, recording the dates and causes of their deaths.

These people were all members of the Wildheart Pack, including elders, elite warriors, and even some distant relatives.

Their deaths spanned the past five years, with causes ranging from hunting accidents to sudden illnesses to mysterious disappearances.

"These people were the backbone of our Pack."

Owen's voice was low and heavy, filled with an inescapable gloom, "To outsiders, they all died by accident. But I know they were murdered. A mysterious organization has been secretly weakening our Wildheart Pack for years. They are meticulous, ruthless, leaving no trace."

I looked at the long list of deaths, feeling a chill spread through my body.