Chapter 13
803words
Three hours later, I dragged my weakened body to the dungeons.
I had to know.
I had to know what game Ariana was playing.
"The true heir of the North"—why would she say that in front of everyone?
Why would she want to destroy everything I had built?
The dungeon guards saw me and immediately bowed their heads.
"Alpha, you're here."
"Where is Ariana?"
"In the deepest solitary cell. As you ordered, we've given her clean clothes and food—"
"Get out of my way."
I shoved the guard aside and stalked toward the deepest part of the prison.
Ariana was sitting in the corner of her cell, hugging her knees, looking pitiful.
When she saw me, she rushed to the iron bars.
"Byron! You came for me!"
I ignored her tears and stood coldly outside the cell.
"Tell me," my voice was a low growl. "Why did you mention the North's exiled traitor at the ceremony?"
"What?" She blinked, feigning confusion. "When did I—"
"Stop pretending!" I slammed my fist against the bars. The loud crash echoed through the dungeon. "You screamed 'the true heir of the North is backing me' in front of every pack representative! Were you trying to destroy me?"
Ariana flinched back from my rage, then started to cry pitifully.
"I... I was just so scared..." she sobbed. "Everyone was accusing me, I didn't know what to do, I just wanted them to know I wasn't someone they could just push around..."
"So you dragged me down with you?" I snarled. "Do you have any idea what your words mean? Now every pack thinks I'm allied with the northern rebels!"
"I didn't mean it!" she cried harder. "Byron, I really didn't! It was just a slip of the tongue in a moment of panic!"
I looked at her tear-streaked face, and my anger cooled slightly.
Maybe... maybe she really was just panicking.
Maybe there was no malice in it.
"Byron," she whispered, her hand reaching through the bars. "It was one mistake. One slip. You can't abandon me over that. Remember? You owe me your life."
She saved my life.
There it was again.
"Yes," I took a deep breath. "I remember you saved me."
"That's all that matters." Her crying stopped, a flash of satisfaction in her eyes. "Byron, you owe me your life. No matter what I do wrong, you can't abandon me. Besides, who else is going to help you save Sandra? You need me. You need Killian."
I stared at her.
At this woman who claimed to have saved my life.
Suddenly, a thought flickered in my mind.
A deeply unsettling thought.
"Ariana," my voice became quiet, but my gaze sharpened. "Tell me how you saved me when I was kidnapped."
"What?" She froze for a second. "You... you want to hear about that?"
"Yes." I stared hard into her eyes. "Tell me every detail."
A flicker of panic crossed Ariana's eyes, but she quickly composed herself.
"That... that was eight years ago. Why are you bringing that up now?" She forced a smile. "You were kidnapped and taken to an abandoned factory on the outskirts of town..."
"Which factory?" I cut her off.
"Uh... the steel mill in the North District," she said. "You were tied to... tied to a chair, and the kidnappers were pointing guns at you..."
I frowned.
A steel mill?
In my hazy memory, the place was...
"And then?" I pressed.
"Then I... I snuck into the factory and untied you while the kidnappers weren't looking." Her voice started to sound unsteady. "We escaped together, but I was grazed by a bullet in the back during the escape..."
You were shot in the back?
My memory grew even cloudier.
In my faint recollection, the person who saved me... wasn't injured in the back.
"How exactly were you injured?" I kept pressing. "Which direction did the bullet come from?"
"From... from the right?" Ariana stammered. "I don't remember clearly, it was all so chaotic..."
"The right?" My gaze grew colder. "The right? You're certain?"
"I... maybe it was the left?" She was starting to panic. "Byron, why are you asking me all this? It doesn't matter how it happened! All that matters is that I saved you!"
"It doesn't matter?" I sneered. "A person who saved my life can't remember how she was injured?"
"I... I was too scared at the time, my memory is a little fuzzy..."
"Is that so?" I stepped closer to the bars. "Then tell me, what season was it?"
"Summer... no, it was spring..." Her voice trailed off. "Byron, why are you asking all this?"
I didn't answer her. I just watched her panicked eyes.
"Ariana," my voice was ice, the suspicion in my heart growing heavier. "Don't you dare lie to me, Ariana."
