Who Paid You

Lennox’s POV

The first ritual was over. The crowd had begun to disperse, some heading back to their homes, others lingering in quiet clusters to share old memories. But the rest of us—my family—we returned to the pack house in silence, waiting for the final ritual that would take place later tonight.

Some pack members wanted to come up to us… to offer their condolences, share their grief, speak of Olivia. But we gave the guards strict orders to let no one through. None of us were in the mood to hear sweet words about someone we all failed to protect.

Back in my room, I couldn’t stop thinking about Rebecca.

I kept seeing her fainting in the garden, falling like a feather that had lost its strength to float. For a terrifying second, my instincts kicked in, and I had turned toward her—but I stopped myself. I couldn’t move. Not with all those eyes watching. I forced myself to stay rooted to the ground, to act like I didn’t care. Like I hadn’t just watched someone collapse in the middle of the funeral.

Even when Damien lifted her in his arms and walked off, I stayed. I clenched my fists. Bit my tongue. Focused on the ritual.

But my mind… my mind refused to obey.

Instead, it kept circling back to her. Her pale face. Her trembling hands. That look in her eyes.

Why the hell was I so worried about her?

I didn’t have an answer. So I just stayed in my room, pacing the floor, ignoring the voices downstair, avoiding everyone. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I barely even breathed.

Great-grandmother Hailee’s words kept haunting me.

“Something is coming, Lennox… Something that will shake you and your brothers. It will break you for a while. But don’t be afraid… it was meant to be.”

What did she mean?

And why did her voice echo louder now than it did in the dream?

I let out a heavy sigh and dropped onto the edge of the bed, burying my face in my palms.

A knock suddenly cut through the silence.

I didn’t move.

“Alpha Lennox,” Dustin’s voice came from the other side. “The men have arrived. They brought Silas with them.”

My head shot up.

“What?” I jumped to my feet and crossed the room in two long strides. I yanked the door open and stared at him. “Where is he?”

Dustin stood straight. “They’re holding him in the throne room.”

My heart thudded. “Good. Call my brothers. Now.”

He nodded without another word and turned down the hallway.

I didn’t waste a second. I jumped down the stairs and hurriedly made my way to the throne room. I stormed into the throne room, my boots hitting the marble with a loud sound. The guards stood on both sides, stiff and alert, parting immediately as I entered.

And there he was.

Silas.

Even after all these years, I recognized him in an instant. He sat shackled on the floor, his head turning just slightly as I stepped forward. His eyes narrowed.

Louis and Levi arrived moments later, their presence filling the room with a tense, heavy energy. The door thudded shut behind them, and now it was just us—brothers, guards, and the traitor sitting in the middle of the room like a rat cornered in a trap.

“What is the meaning of this?” Silas barked, yanking at his chains. “Why was I abducted and brought here like a criminal?”

I didn’t respond to his anger. I simply stepped forward and looked down at him. “Why were you running, Silas? This is your home, isn’t it?”

His lip curled. “Release me now. I’ve done nothing wrong. This is abuse of power.”

Levi cut straight through the nonsense. “We know it was you,” he said calmly, but his voice had the weight of anger behind it. “We know you forged Olivia’s handwriting. You wrote those spelled letters that drove us to hate her. We know everything.”

Silas’s eyes flickered—but he shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

That was all I needed to hear. My patience snapped.

“Get me a hot iron,” I said coldly, turning to the guards. “With the fire pot. Now.”

The guards didn’t hesitate. One of them quickly left and returned moments later with a long rod, the tip glowing red-hot and the pot.

Silas’s eyes widened. “You wouldn’t—”

“Oh, I would,” I replied coldly, pulling the iron from the pot. I crouched beside him, holding the heat just inches from his arm. “For every lie you tell… I will press this into your skin. You lie once, you burn once. You lie again… next time it goes in your eye. You know I will do it, Silas. So tell the truth, or start choosing which eye you’re willing to lose.”

“I didn’t—”

The second he started to deny it again, I drove the iron into his forearm.

His scream echoed in the air as his skin sizzled and peeled under the heat. The smell of burning flesh filled the room. He thrashed, but he couldn’t shift—not with the silver-infused collar clamped around his neck, suppressing his wolf completely.

I rose slowly, watching him writhe in pain, his breathing ragged and broken.

“The next one goes in your eye,” I said again, my voice low and deadly calm. “I swear to the Moon Goddess I will do it.”

His body trembled. He tried to catch his breath. Terror filled his face now. He knew I wasn’t joking.

“Fine,” he choked, sweat pouring down his face. “Yes… I wrote it. I wrote those letters.”

I exchanged a glance with Levi and Louis before looking back down at him.

“But you didn’t spell it?” Levi asked.

Silas shook his head weakly. “No. I only wrote it. It wasn’t me who added the spell.”

“Then who?” Louis demanded. “Who paid you to do it?”

Silas hesitated. His lips trembled. He looked between the three of us, panic rising behind his eyes.

Finally, he lowered his head and whispered the words that turned my blood to ice:

“Your parents.”