The War God Alpha's Arranged Bride (Evelyn and Alexander) novel Chapter 171

**Steps Along Forgotten Roads**
**By Sophia Reed**
**Chapter 171: Back To Silverwood**

[Evelyn’s POV]

“You are absolutely not returning to that house,” Alexander declared with a firmness that brooked no argument.

After weeks of restless nights, I had finally experienced a semblance of peace. My muscles, usually coiled tight with tension, felt almost relaxed, and the frayed edges of my nerves had begun to settle. Yet, a part of me was ready to chastise myself for allowing this madness to persist for so long.

In Alexander’s embrace, I found a sanctuary, a balm for the relentless pain that had plagued me for days on end. We had navigated through our turbulent waters, and now, it felt as if nothing could come between us anymore.

No more secrets. No more misunderstandings. No more barriers.

Yet, the reality was that a myriad of challenges still loomed ahead, with Isabella standing at the forefront of those challenges.

Having just stepped out of the shower, I reached for a towel, glancing up to see Alexander’s reflection in the mirror above the sink. His face was etched with concern, a heaviness in his gaze that I couldn’t dismiss. I understood his worries; I had no desire to return to the very site where my life had hung by a thread.

Yet, I felt cornered. Despite Alexander’s efforts to temporarily lock down Liam’s pack, I knew Isabella was unpredictable. There was no guarantee she wouldn’t find a way to infiltrate the house again.

If confronting the darkest chapter of my life was what it took to protect my brother, then I would face it head-on.

“Alexander,” I sighed, steeling myself for his response.

“No. The answer is a resounding no,” he insisted, his voice unwavering.

I exhaled slowly, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m not asking for your permission. This is me asserting what I need to do.”

I could feel the weight of his gaze, intense and unwavering, from across the room. It was no surprise that he didn’t agree with my plan; I was astonished he was even allowing me the chance to voice my thoughts.

“I need to return to that house to prove Isabella’s guilt in my brother’s near-fatal incident. I overheard your discussion with Oliver yesterday in the office. If we can’t substantiate the claims of her orchestrating my murder attempt, we need a backup plan. Henry mentioned he found traces of Hemlock in Edward’s IV bags.”

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Alexander’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Hemlock? How in the world did she manage to get her hands on something so lethal?”

I shook my head, my voice low. “My guess is the same way she acquired that damned aphrodisiac,” I muttered, frustration lacing my words. “But beyond just searching for the Hemlock, I need to find out where she was distilling it.”

We both understood that there was no alternative; I had to go back to that house.

As I dried off and slipped into my clothes, I felt Alexander’s presence behind me, his eyes locked onto mine through the mirror. He wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me close until I felt the warmth of his chest against my back.

His cheek rested against my head as he let out a long, weary sigh. “I know what needs to happen,” he murmured. “But I’m worried about the psychological toll that place could take on you. Facing Samantha is one thing, but returning to the very site of your torment is something else entirely.”

He spoke the truth, and I couldn’t deny it. I was aware of the risks I was taking. Just hours ago, I had revealed my scars to him, and now I was preparing to revisit the scene of my greatest anguish.

It wasn’t the most prudent choice, but we were racing against time.

“I just don’t want to see you triggered and spiral into another dark place,” he added, concern etched into his features.

A jolt of unease surged through me when we reached the living room. Alexander halted, positioning himself protectively at my side.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to go in there,” he whispered, his voice soothing. “We’ll take this one step at a time.”

I stiffened, feeling the tension coil within me. He gently cupped the side of my head, guiding me back toward the main hallway. It was as if he could sense the horrors that had transpired in that very room…

I loathed that my childhood home had become a repository of terrible memories, all thanks to Isabella and her wretched daughter. It was a heartbreaking reality.

“This way,” I murmured, leading us toward the gardens—or what remained of them. Isabella had clearly neglected the grounds, allowing them to fall into disarray. The overgrowth screamed for attention, a testament to her disregard. Yet, I steered us toward the greenhouse, a place that held both promise and peril.

“Wait,” I said, my heart racing as I spotted a large padlock on the door that had never been there before. A wave of dread washed over me, a knowing sense of foreboding.

“Why lock the door unless you have something to conceal?” I questioned, my voice trembling.

I picked up a nearby rock, channeling all my pent-up anger as I swung it down onto the padlock. It took several strikes, but eventually, the lock shattered, clattering to the ground in pieces.

With a determined glint in his eye, Alexander reached for the handle, and together, we stepped inside.

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