Page 32 of Sasha's Wounded Wolf

“What’s he doing here?”

“Byrd,” Nico snarled.

My father took a couple of steps away from Nico.

“What’s going on, son?”

“Nico is Sasha’s brother.”

“That girl you were going to—”

“My mate,” I barked, cutting him off.

“She’s gone, Rowan. Died the same day of your accident. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I figured one of the boys with you would.”

“Murdered,” Nico snapped.

“What?” my father asked, gaze bouncing between Nico and me.

“My sister was murdered.”

“Well, now, I don’t know about that. Heard she was up on the ridge with a group of male wolves. Things got a little rough, and she went over and into the falls.”

There was no controlling my wolf’s anger this time as a growl tore from my throat.

“A little rough?” I asked, forcing the words past my clenched teeth.

“You make it sound like she was hanging out with those men. As if they didn’t hunt her down and beat the hell out of her before she went over the ledge,” Nico raged.

“I don’t know anything about that,” my father denied. “All I know is my boy is alive and home. Everything’s going to be fine now.”

“He won’t forget me.”

Sasha stepped out. She wore something similar to what she’d worn when I’d taken her to meet my father. I’d always maintained I’d waited to introduce them because I’d been greedy of my time with her. Now, I wondered if I hadn’t subconsciously known he wouldn’t accept her.

“What? Who said that?” My father whipped his head back and forth, looking around the cavernous building. I smelled the whiskey on his breath and knew the fact he’d already started drinking would make this even easier.

“I did.”

Sasha moved, grabbing my father’s attention.

“No one said anything,” I countered seconds later. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, God. She’s there. Why is she there?”

Nico and I looked at each other.

“Who the hell is he talking about?” Nico asked.

I glanced around, skimming over my mate as if I didn’t see her.

“There’s no one here.”

“You killed me,” Sasha accused. “Took me from my mate. He’ll never get over me.”

“Why won’t you go away?” my father cried, holding his hands out toward her and waving frantically. “Just go away.”

The way he spoke made me think my mate must haunt him. It also showed me she’d been right. He’d had everything to do with the attack on her.

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