After I left, the twin Alphas went crazy novel Chapter 129

A crack of thunder pulled me back to the present.

Lirian’s promise lingered, echoing in my mind, bridging the past and the present. He had always been true to his word. And tonight, I was reminded again of that loyalty.

That night, I stayed at Lirian’s villa. When I walked into the guest room, I felt a strange sense of déjà vu.

The decor was simple yet familiar: shabby curtains, a white wardrobe, and a bed covered in soft, cream-colored linens.

I smiled, remembering how I’d once dreamed of decorating my home like this after I married Ryan. I’d wanted something comfortable, inviting, something that felt like me.

But Ryan had brushed off my ideas, never listening to what I wanted.

Eventually, I gave up and accepted a home that wasn’t mine in any way. I later learned that every piece of furniture, every decoration, had been chosen by Linda, the one he truly listened to.

The thought made my chest tighten, but I pushed it aside. This was a new life. I didn’t have to dwell on old wounds.

Exhaustion pulled me into a deep sleep, but the next morning brought a new challenge. The elders from the Moonshadow Pack had returned, and they demanded a meeting.

They called both Arman and me home, saying that a dispute between siblings couldn’t be ignored.

As I prepared to leave, Lirian appeared beside me, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “I’m coming with you,” he said firmly.

When we arrived, Arman was already seated on the sofa, his face carefully blank as always, though a gauze wrapped around his forehead hinted at our last encounter.

Linda sat beside him, her usual white dress matching her innocent, doe-eyed expression. Her eyes were slightly red, as if she’d been crying. A performance for the elders, no doubt.

Uncle Dennis, the former Beta of Moonshadow and a man who still held a respected position within the pack, leaned forward, his gaze sharp. “We heard from Arman about yesterday’s events.”

My heart pounded, but I met his gaze without flinching.

“Arman claims you were bullying your classmates, so he stepped in to discipline you. Said he didn’t use a knife,” Uncle Dennis said, his tone skeptical.

Arman froze, his face impassive but his eyes narrowing slightly. He hadn’t noticed my injuries last night, or maybe he simply hadn’t cared.

Either way, his reaction was brief, and before I could speak, Linda took her opportunity, shifting into her well-practiced act with impeccable timing. She let out a sob, wiping at her cheeks for effect.

Not in this life.

Summoning a steady breath, I faced the elders, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. “I want you all to know what my childhood was really like. What Arman did to me, how he treated me, and how Linda encouraged him at every turn.”

As I spoke, memories spilled out in sharp, painful bursts.

I described the cold shoulder, the whispered insults, the times he’d let Linda taunt me without a word of defense.

I recalled moments where his disdain cut deeper than any physical blow, the way he looked at me with barely concealed disgust whenever Linda twisted the truth to paint herself as the victim.

When I finished, there was a tense silence.

The elders’ faces had shifted, reflecting a mixture of shock, sadness, and anger.

My uncle Dennis’s expression was especially dark, his jaw clenched as he processed my words.