Page 90 of The Alpha's Forsaken Vow

I stand up, stretching my hand out when he finally approaches me.

“Elder Tenno, always a pleasure—”

He ignores my hand and adds a scowl to his face before he spits, “Are you still interested in looking at the other Moonlight Pack records?”

His question catches me off guard.

The last time he gave me the Moonlight Pack records that involved Irene, Ethan and I had barely found anything thatwould lead us to her. Sure, we found out about her disease, but other than that, we’d been hitting dead end after dead end.

Yesterday, when I called him, he said he had nothing more on Irene.

The word “no” is on the tip of my tongue, but I made a promise. As much as the thought of finding Irene while Lila is at home waiting for me to return makes my throat taste like paint, I owe it to the Alpha who entrusted me to find Irene, and I owe it to…Irene, because I might have my suspicions about who she is.

“Yes,” I mutter.

“Then follow me, boy.”

Twenty minutes later, we are in the council building. It reeks of incense and old power, the kind that tells you this building houses everything that has to do with my pack and what was left of the Moonlight Pack.

Instead of feeling right at home, my wolf twitches in discomfort. Stacks of scrolls and books that have eaten more dust than the man walking in front of me greet me from the shelves. I swallow down the sneeze that’s tickling my nose.

Questions float through my mind—a lot of them.

Elder Tenno might be a stubborn old man like the rest of the council, but he’s the kind of man who keeps things to himself until he thinks it’s necessary to let them out to the world. The fact that he wants to share something boggles my mind altogether about what it could be.

He stops right in front of a small desk and taps his cane twice on the ground. A kid who is no more than twenty appears out of nowhere with a large file.

Taking the file, Elder Tenno drops it on the wooden desk, the sound echoing across the great shelves of this entire building.

“A few years ago, you asked me to collect all the archives from the Moonlight Pack. All the records I collected, I gave toyou. You asked me to search for more”, he pauses, his wrinkly hand on the file, “and you were right to request access to more.”

Making eye contact briefly before opening the file, he continues, “I got these files a few days ago. I tried to contact you through your office about them, but someone else came instead of you. He claimed to be acting under your orders, that you sent him here, but he stole the records as soon as we left him with them. We are lucky to have had these backups, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to know what I know now. When you called me yesterday, requesting these same files, I was skeptical about telling you over the phone. I needed you to see these with your own eyes.”

I didn’t send anyone here. And if Ethan had come by here, he would have said something.

Instead of diving into all that, I eye the files suspiciously. “What’s in the files, Elder Tenno?”

Elder Tenno smiles for a bit before he slides the file to me. “The answer to all your problems.”

I take the file with clammy hands.

“Something felt off, so I had the guy followed after he stole the files, and his trail led us straight to Julian. Your nephew was behind the theft, Alaric, and he must already know what’s in these files—”

My ears start ringing the minute I hear Julian’s name. Rage flares behind my eyes, gnawing at my skull for not getting to these files sooner. Of course, it was him. That manipulative bastard beat me to it.

And as my eyes skim through the records, my wolf howling at the revelation that’s contained in these decades-old files, I start to understand why Julian would be desperate enough to send someone to steal records from the council.

Because right there between the files and reports, are two pictures, and one of them is of Irene.

The photo, dated years ago, shows the spitting image of Lina. The eyes. The stubborn set of her jaw. The hint of defiance in her smile. My fingers tremble as I flip through the pages, each one tearing through my composure like claws in flesh.

And then the second photo.

Older.

Her hair is a little longer, her face more mature, but there’s no mistaking it.

The room tilts. My breath leaves my body like a fist punched through my gut. My wolf howls. His Mate. Our Mate.

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