Rejected, Abused, I Fall for the Forbidden Alpha (by Riley Scott) novel Chapter 245

Chapter 245

Who knew what they might find in there?

“Stand back,” Aaron said hoarsely and his men reluctantly backed up a few paces.

He lightly touched the top of the box, feeling the hardened wood, eyeing the symbols carved into it.

He swallowed hard and then opened the top, listening to the small creaking noise it made and wincing, half expecting this to be a trap of some kind.

Nothing happened.

He pulled out the first item, a lock of hair tied carefully into a ribbon. A lone photograph of Marissa, where her face had been scribbled out. A small bag of various herbs. A piece of skin that almost made him gag. A vial of blood that was turning dark. Then the second last item. A map, painstakingly drawn, showing every part of The Shadow Pack’s territory, from the boundary lines to the roads nearby and the location of the pack house.

That left one last thing. A scroll tied with red ribbon.

He slowly unfurled it. He couldn’t make sense of it. The words were dark, slashed. It looked like some form of contract, however. A promise. A single bloody fingerprint was next to the name at the bottom, but that wasn’t what made Aaron begin to feel sick. It was the name itself.

MaryAnne Sinclair.

“She’s meant to be dead,” Aaron said out loud, his voice shaking. “There’s no way she can be here now.”

His men peered over his shoulder.

“That signature and fingerprint look recent,” Ronan was quiet as he examined the paper closely, “and the words on the paper, ‘exchange, ritual, blood promise,’ it sounds like a contract with a coven,” he finalised.

That’s exactly what it was, Aaron realized. But even witches couldn’t bring the dead back to life. Nobody could. Which meant there was more to the story than it initially appeared.

What if it wasn’t MaryAnne who died? She’d been clever and always had backup plans. But wouldn’t Marissa have sensed it wasn’t her mother?

“This is messed up,” Lucas muttered.

“Ronan, how can this be possible?” Aaron looked to the tech specialist, who looked as though he was being thrown to the wolves.

“I um…well,” Ronan stammered, “the only thing I can think of is that MaryAnne had a doppelganger or something. I’m not accustomed to how magic works, and well,” he looked at Aaron with a helpless expression, ” witches often don’t help shifters for nothing. It involves an exchange of some kind. Magic always comes with a price, and often those who seek it aren’t willing to pay it.”

“We have to get back,” Aaron said decisively, “and show this to Damien. Maybe he can find someone to shed some light on it.”

“Her daughter probably knows exactly what’s happening. We should lock her in a dungeon and torture her for answers,” Johnathon blurted out angrily.

Aaron’s gaze grew cold. The moron had no idea what he’d just said or the mistake he’d just made.

“I dare you to suggest that to Damien and manage to still keep your head,” he growled. “Nobody is to lift a hand

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against her unless you want it chopped off,” he added dangerously.

Johnathon scoffed but fell silent. The other men didn’t reply. They weren’t stupid enough to.

Lucas went to grab the box, but suddenly the lights turned off in the apartment.

“Ronan?” Aaron asked.

Ronan shook his head, “It’s not me. It’s also not…” he gulped as the inen began to tense, “a power outage. The electrical grid is still active.”

The door slammed open, and they jumped.

“What the fuck,” Lucas whispered, “that wasn’t the wind blowing it open,” he added even though everybody was already vehemently aware of that.

The air grew chilly. The men shivered, already moving from the room, their bodies automatically preparing themselves even though there was nothing there.

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