But I can’t focus on eleven-year-old mysteries when Violet is at her apartment right now. When I still have a chance to fix this.
“What is there to investigate?” I keep my voice level. “The massacre happened over a decade ago.”
“After removal of the bodies,” Strand says quietly, “the site was sealed off. Completely restricted. Nobody has been allowed near it since. Is that correct?”
I nod slowly. “Standard protocol. We had to secure the area.”
“For eleven years?” Voss’s eyebrows rise. “There should have been a multipack investigation conducted immediately. Or at least now, when your father is pushing for the extermination of all hybrids based on that event.”
My throat goes dry. Our pack handled the whole thing internally, my father overseeing every detail. I never questioned it before. We’d lost so many soldiers. The grief was overwhelming.
But now, with these three alphas staring at me like I’m complicit in some cover-up…
“We had survivors,” I remind them. “Physical evidence. The destruction was real. I saw it myself.”
“I’m sure it was,” Calloway says. “Which is exactly why there should have been a proper, multilateral investigation when it happened. You’re asking us to hand over hybrids from our packs, to essentially sentence them to death, based solely on your pack’s account of what happened. Surely you can see why that’s problematic.”
Voss leans forward. “We will investigate your claims ourselves. If the evidence supports the hybrid threat as clearly as you say, we’ll reconsider our position on this matter.”
This could work. Let them investigate, see it for themselves. The bodies are gone, but the destruction remains. They’ll understand then.
Plus, agreeing to their proposal will get me out of here faster. Get me back to Violet.
But there’s one detail that isn’t sitting right with me…
“Why didn’t you push for this earlier?” The question comes out sharper than I intend it to. “If you had concerns about the investigation, why wait eleven years?”
The three alphas exchange a knowing look, one I can’t quite read.
“Your pack has only now begun demanding we hand over the hybrids within our territories,” Calloway explains slowly. “Your father is using political pressure, economic sanctions, threats of expulsion from the Coalition. All sorts of dirty tactics to force compliance.” He leans forward, his power filling the space between us. “And we did ask for a multipack investigation, Darius. Eleven years ago, when the bodies were still fresh and the crime scene intact. We were denied.”
The room tilts. They were denied?
I was young then, a teenager, focused on the immediatehorror. My father took me to see the slaughter, the bloodshed. But the political decisions happened above my head.
Why would he refuse an investigation that would have proven our case?
“However,” Strand says, breaking into my thoughts, “we are still willing to investigate your pack’s claims. If the evidence supports what you’ve described, we will reconsider our position.”
“Fine.” The word comes without hesitation. I have full authority to make this decision. Let them look. “You can investigate. Send your people. The evidence supports what happened.”
“Three from each of our packs,” Calloway says immediately. “Our best forensic specialists and investigators. We will arrive in your territory in two days.”
I nod, already standing. “We’re agreed then. Investigation first, then we’ll reconvene to vote.”
“Agreed,” Voss says, watching me with those knowing eyes.
I’m out the door before anyone can add more conditions.
Jeddian catches up to me in the hallway. “That went better than expected.”
I can barely hear him over the relief pounding through my veins. I’ve already checked my phone. Ethan says Violet hasn’t left her apartment. She’s still there.
“Why didn’t my father allow the investigation eleven years ago?” I stop and turn to face him. “You were there. You must know.”
Jeddian’s expression shifts, an uncomfortable look crossing his features. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t ask?”
