The Alpha’s Secret Obsession Now novel Chapter 64

The word “packhouse” lands in my chest like a fist, driving the air from my lungs and replacing it with a panic I cannot afford to show.

“No.” The refusal escapes before I can soften it, before I can construct a reasonable explanation that doesn’t reveal everything I’m hiding about why returning feels like walking back into a trap designed specifically for my destruction. “I’m not going back there, Zane. I can’t.”

Zane’s expression shifts from urgency to confusion. “Morgan, whatever’s happening at the border is serious enough that Paul is calling us both in. This isn’t optional, it’s necessary for your safety.”

“My safety?” The laugh that tears from my throat carries no humor, only the bitter edge of irony that cuts deeper than I intend.

“The packhouse has never been safe for me, and we both know that. Going back means becoming invisible again, means scrubbing floors and fetching tea and sleeping in servant quarters while Sarah reminds me daily that I’m nothing more than property she tolerates because my presence serves her purposes.”

‘Tell him the truth,’ Nireya urges, her presence pressing against my consciousness with fierce insistence. ‘Tell him Sarah sent that wolf to kill us in the forest.’

But if I tell Zane about Sarah, he’ll tell Paul. If Paul learns the truth, he’ll have to choose between justice and peace, between protecting me and protecting his pack from the war that would inevitably follow.

“You won’t be a slave this time,” Zane says, stepping closer with an intensity that demands my attention.

“I swear to you, Morgan, things will be different when you return. You’ll have your own room, a proper one befitting your actual station, not some cramped closet designed to remind you of your supposed place in the hierarchy.”

“And what place would that be, exactly?” The bitterness sharpens my voice into a weapon I didn’t mean to wield.

“The disgraced daughter of an Alpha who believes I murdered my own mother? The omega everyone pitied and no one protected? The pregnant woman carrying a child whose paternity will become the subject of pack gossip the moment anyone notices?”

Zane flinches at the accusations, but he doesn’t retreat. “Your place as a rightful pack member, Morgan. As someone who belongs to Blood Ridge by bond if not by birth.”

The promise sounds beautiful. It sounds like everything I’ve wanted. It also sounds impossible.

“I want to clear my name,” I say, and the confession emerges quieter than I intend.

“Before I can belong anywhere, Zane, I need people to know the truth about what happened to my mother. I need my father to understand that his daughter isn’t a murderer, that the poison in that cake came from hands that weren’t mine.”

‘Finally,’ Nireya murmurs, approval threading through her presence. ‘Now we’re talking about what actually matters.’

Zane closes the remaining distance between us, his hands finding my shoulders with a grip that feels anchoring rather than confining.

“Then let us help you prove it. Paul and I will do whatever it takes to uncover the truth. But we can’t do any of that if you’re not safe, Morgan, and right now, this house isn’t safe enough.”

“Why not?” I search his face for answers he seems reluctant to give. “What’s happening at the border that’s serious enough to drag me back into a situation I barely survived the first time?”

His jaw tightens, and I watch him weigh how much truth to share against how much might send me spiraling further into refusal.

“Paul is closing the border completely,” he says finally. “Until we identify who’s behind the coordinated activity near the eastern markers, no one goes in and no one comes out. The pack will be on lockdown.”

The implications settle into my understanding with growing dread. “And if I stay here? Outside the border, outside the lockdown?”

“Then I stay here too.” Zane’s grip on my shoulders tightens.

“I’m asking you to trust me.” Zane’s hands slide from my shoulders to cup my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. “And to trust Paul, and to believe that we will burn down anyone who tries to treat you as less than what you are. You’re our mate, Morgan.”

The possessiveness in his voice wraps around the terrified parts of my heart like armor I didn’t know I needed.

‘He means it,’ Nireya confirms, and certainty colors her presence. ‘Whatever else we might doubt, his intention to protect us is genuine.’

I think about the folder hidden in my bag, the evidence that could clear my name if I can figure out how to use it.

I think about the baby growing beneath my skin, the child who deserves better than a mother too frightened to fight for her own survival.

I think about Ricky, whose silence grows more ominous with each passing hour, and the questions I cannot answer from the safety of suburban isolation.

“Promise me,” I say finally, the words scraping past the resistance still lodged in my throat. “Promise me that when we find proof of who really killed my mother, you and Paul will stand beside me when I present it to my father. Promise me I won’t face that alone.”

Zane’s thumb traces across my cheekbone, catching the single tear that has escaped without my permission. “You will never face anything alone again, Morgan. I promise you that with every breath in my body.”

The surrender feels less like defeat than I expected.

“Fine,” I say, and the word tastes like trust and terror in equal measure. “Let’s go back to the packhouse then.”

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