The Alpha’s Secret Obsession Now novel Chapter 57

Zane’s POV

The axe bites into oak with a crack that reverberates up through my arms and settles somewhere in the hollow space behind my ribs.

Thwack.

I knew. I knew the moment I walked through that door, before my eyes found Morgan standing in the corner of the living room like a woman bracing for impact.

The scent hit me first—Paul’s musk threaded through her hair, clinging to her skin, saturating the air of the house with evidence of exactly what they’d done while I coordinated patrol schedules and pretended my brother wasn’t claiming the woman I love.

Thwack.

The wood splits clean down the center, two halves falling away from each other like they were never meant to be joined. I grab another log from the pile and position it on the stump, my movements mechanical, my mind somewhere else entirely.

I told myself I was prepared for this. I told myself that sharing a mate was theoretically possible. I told myself that loving Morgan meant accepting she might love Paul too, that my feelings didn’t grant me exclusive rights to her heart.

Thwack.

Turns out, telling yourself something and believing it are entirely different experiences.

The jealousy burns through my chest like acid, eating away at rational thought, at the careful composure I’ve spent a lifetime perfecting.

I want to hate Paul for touching her. I want to hate Morgan for letting him. Yet, I hate myself for the weakness of wanting what I have no right to demand.

Thwack.

The rhythm becomes a meditation in controlled violence. Each strike channels fury I can’t express, grief I can’t name, a helpless longing that has lived in my bones since the night Morgan came apart beneath my hands and whispered my name.

The boundary situation gnaws at the edges of my anger, adding urgency to emotions already threatening to spiral beyond control.

The scent signatures Cormac’s patrol detected near the eastern markers don’t match any registered pack in our territory—not Silver Moon, not the smaller clans who’ve sworn fealty to Blood Ridge, not even the rogue bands that occasionally drift through unclaimed forest.

These were organized and deliberate. Multiple wolves moving in formation, their trails suggesting surveillance rather than passage.

Someone is watching us. Someone with resources and purpose and enough discipline to avoid direct detection.

The treaty with Morgan’s father brought peace to our primary border conflict, but peace with one enemy doesn’t eliminate all threats. If anything, it makes us vulnerable.

Thwack.

The wood splits with satisfying violence, and I reach for another log, my shoulders burning with exertion I refuse to acknowledge.

Behind me, the back door opens.

I don’t turn around. Her scent reaches me across the clearing—wildflowers and something warmer beneath, and underneath all of it, the lingering trace of my brother that makes my jaw clench hard enough to ache.

The silence stretches between us, suffocating in its weight.

I should say something neutral and kind. Something that acknowledges the impossible situation we’ve found ourselves in without adding cruelty to complication.

Instead, the words that leave my mouth are sharp enough to draw blood.

“You missed a spot.” I keep my back to her, my voice flat. “Behind your left ear. His scent is still there.”

The sharp intake of her breath tells me the observation landed exactly as intended—like a blade slipped between ribs.

I hate myself immediately.

I want to believe her. God, I want to believe her so badly it makes my chest ache.

“Paul told me something,” Morgan continues, and her gaze drops to her hands. “About what you said to him. About believing I’m your mate too.”

The admission hangs between us, raw and exposed.

“I shouldn’t have told him,” I say roughly. “It wasn’t his information to share.”

“But is it true?” She looks up, and the vulnerability in her expression mirrors something I’ve been trying to hide since the moment I first touched her. “Do you really believe I’m bonded to both of you?”

The honest answer terrifies me more than any threat at our borders.

“I believe what I feel.” The words come out quiet. “I believe that when I’m near you, something in my chest settles into place like it’s been waiting my whole life to find its home. Whether that’s a mate bond or just love or some cruel joke the universe is playing on all three of us—I don’t know, Morgan. I just know it’s real.”

Tears gather in her eyes, catching the late afternoon light.

“Being with Paul today doesn’t mean I don’t have feelings for you,” she says, and her voice trembles with the weight of confession.

“It doesn’t mean I chose him, or that what happened between us meant less, or that you’re somehow second place in a competition I never wanted to exist.”

“Then what does it mean?”

She’s quiet for a long moment, her gaze searching my face for something I’m not sure I know how to give.

“Truth is,” she finally says, and the words carry the weight of revelation, “I think I love both of you, Zane.”

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