The Alpha’s Secret Obsession Now novel Chapter 70

Paul’s POV

The sedan devours asphalt in the darkness, headlights carving tunnels through fog that has rolled in from the coast like a living thing.

My hands grip the steering wheel hard enough to ache, knuckles white against leather that smells like the hundred drives I’ve taken without feeling anything, the thousand miles I’ve covered thinking about territory and treaties and the endless demands of a position I never asked for.

Tonight, I feel everything.

‘Faster,’ Valdric demands, his presence pacing restless circles through my consciousness. ‘Our mate is alone. Our pup is threatened. Every second we waste is a second Sarah uses against us.’

“Cormac’s team is closer,” I say aloud, as much for Zane’s benefit as my own. “They’ll reach the docks before we do and scout the containers. If Ricky is there, they’ll find her.”

The phone sits in the center console between us, screen dark, waiting for updates that haven’t come.

The silence from Cormac feels like pressure building behind my eyes, a headache that won’t fully form but won’t dissipate either.

Zane shifts in the passenger seat, his profile sharp against the window where fog blurs the passing landscape into impressionist smears of gray and darker gray.

“Do you remember when Grandmother used to take us to the docks during summer? She’d let us climb the containers while she conducted whatever business she never explained.”

The memory surfaces without permission—salt air and rust and the particular freedom of being small enough to disappear into spaces adults couldn’t follow.

My body remembers the sensation of corrugated metal beneath my palms, the echo of Zane’s laughter bouncing off industrial walls, the way Grandmother would watch us from below with an expression I didn’t understand until years later.

She was teaching us to see the world as a chessboard. Every outing, every seemingly random adventure, was a lesson in observation and strategy.

“She was preparing us,” I say, and the words taste like understanding that arrived too late. “Even then, she was showing us the territories that would matter when we grew into our positions.”

“She showed you the territories.” Zane’s voice carries an edge I haven’t heard before—sharp with something that’s been pressed flat for too long. “She let me tag along because separating us would have required effort.”

‘He’s hurting,’ Valdric observes, and curiosity threads through his restlessness. ‘The spare carries wounds we never noticed.’

“Is that what you think?” I ask, keeping my eyes on the road because looking at my brother right now feels like looking at a mirror I’ve been avoiding. “That you were an afterthought? That I saw you as less than essential?”

Zane laughs, but the sound carries no humor. “I think I spent our entire childhood being trained for a role that everyone hoped I’d never have to fill, Paul.”

The fog thickens as we approach the coast, moisture beading on the windshield in patterns that distort the world outside.

I activate the wipers, and they sweep across the glass with a rhythm that feels almost meditative—back and forth, clearing and clouding, an endless cycle that accomplishes nothing permanent.

“I never thought of you as the spare.” The admission comes out rougher than I intend, scraped raw by emotions I’ve spent years avoiding.

“I thought of you as the only person who saw me as something other than the heir or the Alpha or the position.”

Zane turns to look at me, and I feel the weight of his attention like a physical pressure against my temple.

“We were close once,” he says quietly. “Before the weight of all this crushed whatever childhood meant. I miss that version of us, Paul.”

“I’m not asking anything.” Zane meets my gaze with an intensity that mirrors my own.

“Morgan asked. I’m just delivering the message and waiting to see if you can set aside your Alpha pride long enough to give her what she actually needs.”

The silence that follows stretches taut between us, filled with the hum of the engine and the whisper of fog against metal and the distant crash of waves against docks we haven’t yet reached.

‘Decide,’ Valdric urges, and impatience sharpens his presence. ‘Our mate is alone and frightened. This is not the moment for wounded pride or territorial posturing.’

He’s right. The situation is too precarious for the luxury of jealousy.

“Fine.” The word tears itself from my chest, leaving rawness in its wake. “If that’s what Morgan wants, if that’s what will make her feel secure in a bond that’s already unconventional, then we do it together. But Zane—” I turn to look at him fully, letting him see the warning in my eyes. “If you ever make her regret choosing both of us—”

“You’ll tear out my throat and leave my body for the crows.” Zane’s mouth curves into something that’s almost a smile. “I know, brother. The same applies in reverse.”

The phone buzzes between us, shattering the fragile peace we’ve constructed.

Cormac’s name flashes across the screen.

“They found her,” I say.

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