Fated to the Alpha Who Killed Me (by Sherry) novel Chapter 87

Chapter 87

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That night I refused to let my mother sleep alone. We stayed in my bedroom, both caught in separate

spirals of thought. “I keep trying to feel it through the bond,” she whispered in the darkness. “If he really

was with her willingly, I should sense it. But all I feel is confusion and uncertainty.”

I had no answer, just held her while she finally wept herself into exhausted sleep.

Pinewood Café sat on the city’s edge, deliberately neutral territory. Kayla was already seated when we

arrived, looking normal–professional woman in a blazer, no trace of guilt in her posture.

“Let’s skip pleasantries,” I said flatly. “Who sent you? What do they gain?”

Kayla sipped her coffee thoughtfully. “What if there is no plot? What if this is just a woman trying to

protect herself?”

“By blackmail?” I countered.

“By insurance.” Her eyes hardened. “When a man in Marcus Goldcrest’s position has a relationship with a

subordinate, who will people believe? The powerful Alpha or the divorced woman from nowhere?” She

leaned forward. “I needed proof. No one would believe my word against his.”

My mother’s hand clenched her cup. “So you admit you had a relationship with my mate.”

Kayla pulled out a tablet showing more photos and security footage of my father entering a hotel room with

her, unsteady but walking. “He was conscious. He walked through that door on his own feet.”

“This proves nothing,” my mother bit out.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

Kayla slid a medical report across the table. Even before reading it, dread coiled in my gut. “I’m pregnant,”

she said simply. “Four weeks. The timing aligns with that night.”

My mother made a sound like she’d been struck, one hand flying to her chest, breathing going shallow. I

grabbed her arm, squeezing hard.

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Chapter 87

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“You can question the photos,” Kayla continued, voice almost gentle. “But this is real. Undeniable biological

evidence. When this child is born, DNA will settle any questions.”

“What do you want?” I demanded again.

Her eyes moved to my mother. “I want Marcus to acknowledge this child. To end his bond with you and give

this baby a legitimate place in the pack. I want what any mother wants–a father who won’t deny their

existence.”

“You want him to abandon his mate of thirty years,” I translated coldly.

“I want what he promised me!” Kayla’s composure cracked, revealing genuine anger. “What he made me

believe was possible before deciding it was too complicated!”

She believed it–genuinely believed my father had pursued her. Whether true or a carefully constructed

narrative, she saw herself as the wronged party.

Before I could respond, my mother lurched to her feet with a strangled gasp, face white as paper, hand

pressed to her chest. “Mom!” I caught her as she swayed, feeling through our pack bond her heart racing

erratically–bond shock, the violent response to severe mate bond betrayal. “Call an ambulance!”

I eased her down, using my luna presence to stabilize her spiraling system. “Look at me, Mom. Focus on my

voice. Slow breaths.”

The ambulance seemed to take forever. By the time paramedics arrived, she’d slipped into shock–induced

stupor. I rode with her, texting my father: Mom in emergency. Frost Clinic. Heart episode–bond shock. Stay

away for now.

Morning sounds filtered in–monitor beeps, hushed voices, squeaking shoes. I woke in the chair, neck stiff.

From the hallway came familiar voices–Mason Morrison’s rumble, Ruby’s softer responses, from the next

room.

The stairwell door opened and Celeste emerged carrying soup, her face drawn with worry that transformed

to recognition when she spotted me.

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Chapter 87

“Violet? What are you doing here?”

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“Family emergency. My mom had a heart episode–stable now, but they’re keeping her for observation.”

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“Oh no, I’m so sorry.” Celeste’s concern appeared genuine, her brow furrowing with sympathy. “That must be

terrifying for you.”

“What about you?” I asked, noting the insulated container in her hands. “What brings you here?”

“My dad.” She gestured toward the room next door. “He’s having heart surgery tomorrow morning. We finally

got a specialist. He’s supposed to be one of the best cardiac surgeons in the country, but normally the wait

list is months long.” Her expression shifted, gratitude mixing with something more complicated. “We were

incredibly fortunate. A friend helped coordinate everything, pulled some strings to get Dad moved up the

schedule. I don’t know what we would have done otherwise.”

She didn’t name Daemon. Didn’t need to. Combined with his three–day absence and the exhaustion through

our bond, it painted a clear picture.

“That’s good,” I managed, my voice steadier than I felt. “Having that kind of support during a medical crisis

makes all the difference.”

When Celeste excused herself to bring her father his breakfast, she touched my arm with gentle sympathy

that seemed utterly sincere. I watched her disappear back into Mason’s room, noting how perfectly crafted

her sweetness appeared now that I knew what lay beneath it. But maybe that didn’t matter anymore. Maybe

her presence here, her father’s surgery, all these mounting obligations between her and Daemon–maybe it

was all just accelerating what we both wanted anyway. The end.

The elevator opened and Evan stepped out in his white coat, spotting me immediately. “Violet? What are

you doing here? Is Shadow alright?”

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