Chapter 27: Main-Character Energy

"Jessica Ashfang, don’t you dare." Kira’s voice came out low and dangerous. "I know that guilty look. What do you know about my mother? Spill. Right now."

Jessica’s breath hitched, her eyes dropping instantly to her lap. She began picking at a loose thread on her jeans, her silence shouting louder than any confession. "Please... don’t make me, K," she whispered.

"Make you?" Kira leaned forward, her voice trembling with a mix of surprise and rising fury. "This is my life, Jess. My mother. The woman I’ve spent twenty years imagining. Tell me what you know."

Jessica looked up and exhaled shakily.

"Promise you won’t spiral."

Kira stared at her best friend as if she had suddenly sprouted a second head. "How do you all know things about my own mother that I don’t? Why is everyone hiding her from me? This feels like a betrayal, Jessica. You’ve known this entire time and stayed quiet?"

Jessica swallowed hard, the guilt etched into every line of her face. "I don’t know much, I swear. I just... I overheard my dad once. He said Alpha Rolf scrubbed her from every record because of... betrayal. Kira, your dad might not have been lying about the cheating."

Silence settled over their small corner table like a heavy blanket. Kira sat perfectly still, trying to process the words. For years she had built entire daydreams around the mother she never knew, a woman who was gentle, kind, and tragically taken. To hear that she might have been the villain, the one who broke the bond, was a bitter pill that refused to go down.

"And you’ve known this for how long?" she asked quietly.

"Not long. I swear." Jessica’s eyes were pleading now. "I didn’t want to ruin the version of her you loved. I thought... maybe that’s why he remarried so fast. Because Luna Lydia is his true mate."

"And my mother wasn’t?"

Jessica gave a small, miserable shake of her head. "I heard he just... fell for her. I’m sorry, K. I was trying to protect you."

Kira drew in a slow breath, her resolve hardening behind her eyes like steel slowly cooling. "I want the whole story. I want to be absolutely sure about that, and I also want to know who was responsible for poisoning me, and why they wanted my wolf silenced." She met Jessica’s gaze squarely. "Will you help me get answers from the omegas? If anyone should know who was poisoning me, it would be them."

Jessica looked utterly helpless. "How am I supposed to get that?"

"You’re smart, you’ll find a way," Kira insisted. "One of them had to be the one physically putting it in my food."

"We both know it was ’Daddy Dearest’ or his Luna," Jessica muttered under her breath. "But fine. I’ll poke around."

"I need to be certain," Kira said stubbornly. "And I need to know why those poisons didn’t finish me off. There’s something different about me, Jess. We need to find out what it is."

Jessica studied her for a long moment. She nodded once. "I’ll sniff around. No promises, though. You know your dad hates me lurking near the kitchens. But we’ll figure it out. Especially the part where you’re apparently poison-proof. That’s some serious main-character energy right there."

Kira managed a small smile. "Thanks, Jess."

"Always." Jessica nudged Kira’s foot under the table, trying to break the heavy tension. "Now, can we please go back to talking about how ridiculously hot your bodyguard is? I need something light before I start my career in espionage."

Kira groaned, rolling her eyes. "You’re impossible."

"And you love me."

"Yeah," Kira admitted softly. "I really do."

***

Derek shoved open the heavy oak door of his office and stepped inside. His tie already hung loose around his neck, shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows, but the knot of tension between his shoulder blades hadn’t eased since the boardroom meeting ended. He hadn’t even reached his desk before the door swung open again behind him.

Uncle Crane walked in without the courtesy of a knock. Dressed in a pristine dark suit, his face was set in that terrifying, brittle calm that usually preceded a storm. He had followed Derek straight from the boardroom, silent the entire walk down the corridor.

Derek didn’t bother turning around. He knew exactly what this was about. He gave his tie another irritated tug and dropped into his leather chair. "If this is about the quarterly projections, Uncle, they can wait until tomorrow," he said without looking at his uncle.

"It’s not about projections." Crane closed the door softly. "My son didn’t show up for work today. I’m told his face looks like it’s been put through a meat grinder. Care to explain?"

Derek finally looked up, his fingers steepled in front of him. "Why are you asking me about your son’s face, Uncle? Does he not have a mirror?"

Crane stared at him for a heartbeat. "You did that to him this morning. In front of the men."

"We just sparred. That’s all."

Crane’s laugh was short, sharp, and entirely devoid of humour. "You and I both know that wasn’t a spar, Your Grace. That was a beating. It wasn’t random, and it wasn’t for training."

Derek’s gaze turned cold and flat. "What do you want, Crane?"

The older man took a measured step closer. "Is this about the werewolf girl?"

Derek returned his attention to the tablet on his desk, scrolling without really seeing the numbers. "I fail to see how a session in the training yard has anything to do with my marriage."

"Come on, Derek. Don’t play the fool with me. What else would have possessed you to hit him like that? Why on earth did you even marry a werewolf in the first place? You of all people know the history—"

"My marriage," Derek snapped, the words vibrating with a low, animalistic warning, "is none of your business."

Crane’s composure finally snapped. He stepped even closer, voice rising just enough to reveal the real anger that had been simmering beneath. "You exiled my son for years! Years, Derek. He finally returns, tries to rebuild his life, and the first thing you do is batter him in front of the entire guard because of... what? Whatever some werewolf girl whispered in your ear? A wolfless traitor’s daughter you dragged here for your own twisted reasons? It’s been years, Derek. You can’t keep crucifying him for a mistake he made when he was a boy. It’s time to let it go."

Derek’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Crane planted both palms on the desk and leaned in, close enough that Derek could smell the faint cedar of his aftershave. "Remember this: Brian is still a Wolfe. He still holds a claim to that throne until the crown is officially on your head. If you start a family war over some girl, you’ll lose a lot more than your temper. Half the council already thinks you’ve lost your mind by marrying her. Push this too far, and they will push back. Hard."