Page 129 of Lonely Alpha

“When she wins, she goes more frequently,” he explained. “Multiple days in a row sometimes. She never keeps winning though. This woman is terrible at poker and has horrible luck betting on fights.”

“Fights?”

My voice went high pitched. I clutched Dash’s hand in a vice grip. Ambrose came up behind me and rubbed my shoulders.

“Yeah, like underground human fights, not super fucked up shit like dog fights or anything,” Dash said.

He tried to go deeper into my mother’s illicit history, but I wasn’t listening anymore. I was reeling.

This was what I should have figured out sooner.

The connection point that made everything make sense.

Edith Winston was a gambler, and she’d bet on the fight that she was holding as blackmail over me right now. She’d been there—I bet she’d figured out a way to take those damn pictures herself.

Pictures of one of my brother’s alphas, far before they’d met.

He’d killed someone in that fight, through no fault of his own. The guy was already injured, beaten up from days of cage fights. One wrong hit to the head and he’d gone down, convulsing. Anyone could see it was an accident, even from the photos.

The Gold Pack and Rogue Enforcement Agency wouldn’t see it that way, not when the violent alpha who’d killed a man was a rogue.

Dangers to society, rogues were alphas who could break the rules that bound normal alphas. They could go feral, too, their auras turning them into mindless killing machines if they lost control.

My brother’s alpha wasn’t like that, but he wouldn’t be allowed to live his quiet domestic life if the pictures my mother had got out into the world. He’d be imprisoned for life or worse for crimes that a normal alpha would only get a few years in prison for.

Mercury slammed a mug of coffee down in front of me, jolting me from the daze. I wrapped my hand around the handle, realizing my arms were shaking when I tried to bring it to my mouth. All three of them were staring at me, oblivious to the swirling shame and panic that threatened to overcome me.

I’d never wanted a pack bond before.

In this moment, I wished it was that easy. I wished I could open up a bond and let my emotions flow through, letting them experience how I felt. It was impossible to put into words, but I wanted them to know.

I’d never wanted anyone to know my feelings before, either.

“My brother’s alpha,” I said quietly. “She knows something about him that the world…doesn’t. Something they can’t.”

Dash went stiff, the hand still in mine clenching tightly. “He’s a rogue, isn’t he?”

My brother’s pack had three alphas, but they knew which one. It was obvious when you were aware of the history—and Dash had been obsessive over my brother for the first few years after he was rejected.

A week ago, I would have hesitated. I would never have confirmed that secret to the Loranger pack. They had hated my brother’s pack for claiming their scent matched mate when they couldn’t.

Today I didn’t hesitate.

“Yes.”

“That isn’t the end of the world. It’s not like rogues are tossed in prisons for existing. It would suck, but—”

“And what do they do to rogues that kill people?”

My question hung in a sudden, deathly silence. I cleared my throat, shakily bringing the mug to my lips and taking a huge sip.

“My mother has pictures of him killing someone in an underground fight. I don’t know the context. I haven’t asked him about it, because my brother and his pack don’t know that she has this. I’m trusting that it was an accident and he’s worth protecting, but the GPRE don’t believe in accidents involving rogues.”

“Why was he even in underground fights? I didn’t think his situation was that bad before he met your brother,” Ambrose said.

I laughed. It started as one short sound but devolved into full on guffaws.

Because wasn’t that the icing on the cake?

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