Chapter 4 - The Ex Who Knew Too Much|
Preston had not slept.
By sunrise, the video of him slapping Hazel had spread through the private pack networks. The ballroom recording showed the blow, the fall, and the moment Adrian Blackthorne appeared above the crowd.
The comments were merciless.
Some wolves called Preston reckless. Others questioned whether he had ever deserved his Alpha title. A few wondered aloud why the king had reacted so strongly to a woman the pack records described as a powerless latent.
Preston hated that last question most of all.
Genevieve stood in his office, scrolling through the messages.
“You need to control the story,” she said.
“I know.”
“Then tell people she attacked me.”
“She didn't.”
“Tell them she threatened you. Say you were protecting me.”
Preston glared at her.
“You want me to lie about something everyone watched?”
“I want you to survive the consequences.”
He paced behind his desk.
For years, he had treated Hazel's quietness as weakness. She had organized his appointments, remembered the names of his allies, and listened when he complained about the burdens of leadership. She had never demanded a public claim or challenged him in front of other wolves.
He had mistaken patience for submission.
Now the Alpha King had intervened, and Preston could not understand why.
“Find out what Blackthorne wants with her,” he ordered.
Genevieve stopped scrolling.
“Why would he want her?”
“Because he doesn't interfere without a reason.”
She hesitated, then said, “My father has heard rumors about a surviving Moonveil heir.”
Preston turned.
“You knew?”
“I heard stories. Nothing confirmed.”
“What does Moonveil have to do with Hazel?”
Genevieve's silence was answer enough.
Preston seized her wrist.
“Tell me.”
She pulled free.
“Don't touch me like that.”
He stared at her, momentarily startled by his own behavior.
Then Genevieve straightened her dress.
“Hazel's mother worked in our territory before she died. My father believed she had stolen a royal archive file. If Hazel is her daughter, she may know where it went.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know Hazel was important until last night.”
Preston felt a cold understanding settle over him.
The woman he had dismissed for five years might possess something powerful enough to change the balance of the entire wolf kingdom.
He ordered a private message sent to the royal residence.
It was short.
I need to speak with Hazel. Alone.
Adrian's response arrived ten minutes later.
No.
Preston slammed the phone onto his desk.
Meanwhile, Hazel sat in the royal library reading copies of her mother's records. She had expected to feel relieved when the truth began to emerge. Instead, each answer opened another door to questions she had never known to ask.
A childhood medical file listed repeated injections. Several pages had been removed. A school report described her as unusually resistant to Alpha commands, then recorded a sudden decline after a routine examination.
One handwritten note stood out.
Subject displays signs of an unregistered royal bloodline. Continue suppression. Do not alert the council.
The signature belonged to Dr. Malcolm Voss.
Hazel read it again.
“Someone knew what I was.”
Adrian stood behind her.
“Yes.”
“And they decided I was safer if I never found out.”
“Or they believed you would be easier to control.”
She turned toward him.
“Were you involved?”
His expression hardened—not with anger, but with the seriousness of a man who understood why she had to ask.
“No. I had never heard your name before last night.”
Hazel studied him, searching for the smooth confidence of a practiced liar.
She found none, though she knew that was not proof.
Her phone buzzed.
An unknown number had sent a photograph of her mother's grave.
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Beneath it were six words:
STOP ASKING QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR MOTHER.
