Chapter 8: Information
1219 Words
-Rider-
It was the middle of the night when a sudden crash jolted me awake. Disoriented, I scanned the dark room for the source of the noise. Another loud bang echoed through the house, prompting me to leap out of bed and pull on a pair of sweatpants.
I exited my bedroom and peered down the quiet hallway, but there was no sign of a break-in. Moving back into the room, I retrieved a gun from a drawer beside the door. The weight of the gun in my hands felt strange—it had been years since I last held one, though I kept it close to my bed.
I crept down the hallway, my back pressed against the wall. Approaching the stairs, I glanced down to the lower floor, seeing only the still, quiet entrance to the house. I descended the stairs cautiously, leaning against the next wall and inching closer to the living room. Finally, I peered around the corner.
“What the hell!” I exclaimed.
I moved away from the wall, lowering the gun and placing it on a shelf above the fireplace before approaching the couch.
“James, what do you think you’re doing?” I demanded, looking down at the pale, trembling figure on the couch.
“Where the f*ck am I?” he growled, glaring up at me.
Despite his high fever and inability to stay awake long enough to eat solid food, he seemed more alert this time. I reached out, intending to help him back onto the couch, but he flinched, almost in fear. It wasn’t surprising—after being in his wolf form for so long, even a simple touch might be overwhelming.
“Your eyes,” he said, struggling to meet my gaze, shifting from the floor to my eyes and back. Although I wasn’t born to be king, I was still an alpha, a pure-blood wolf, and part of the royal family.
“W-Who the f*ck are you?” he asked, his voice trembling.
“We’ve already been over this,” I replied.
He looked at me in confusion and shook his head.
I sighed and reached for him again. “Just let me help you up.”
He hesitated, but eventually, he allowed me to help him back onto the couch. He reclined slowly, pulling the blanket up higher. I checked his IV and examined him for any new bruises or injuries. Other than his fear of my yellow eyes, he appeared to be otherwise unharmed.
“Your eyes,” he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper.
I glanced at him once more before returning to the fireplace to retrieve my gun. I studied its black surface briefly, then turned back to James.
“You should get some sleep,” I told him firmly.
“Who the hell are you?” he growled.
I let his question linger for a moment before answering, “I’m Rider… Valerio’s younger brother.”
James shook his head slowly, clearly in disbelief. It wasn’t surprising.
“That’s not possible,” he said after a few moments.
“No, it shouldn’t be, but it is.”
“You’re dead. You were supposed to be dead.”
“Sorry to disappoint. I’m not,” I replied.
James continued shaking his head. The situation seemed overwhelming for him, and his confusion was gradually turning into anger. “Does Valerio know?”
This time, it was my turn to shake my head. “No. No one knows. At least, not the people who knew me before,” I said.
“Then why… why are you here?”
“It’s my home.”
“But… you’re alive! Your home should be with your brother,” he argued.
“No, your home is with my brother.”
The mention of my brother seemed to silence him. His anger melted into sadness, and he turned his face away, unable to look at me.
“You should have left me out there. I wanted to be left out there,” he snarled, still avoiding my eyes.
“I couldn’t.”
“Why not?” He turned his head to look at me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. The pain in his eyes was difficult for me to bear. I wished I could do more for him, grant his wish to be left alone, but I couldn’t.
“Because it isn’t your time,” I said.
“The hell it isn’t!”
“James—”
“How the f*ck do you know who I am?”
I bit the inside of my cheek, unsure of how to respond. Admitting that I had kept track of my brother over the years, but never revealed myself because of my cowardice, didn’t seem like a good idea. But what else could I say?
“I kept track of my brother,” I told him.
“Yet you never let him know you were alive.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Why not?” he demanded.
“Why didn’t you return and let my brother know you were still alive?”
“Don’t turn this back on me! This is about you,” he sneered.
“No, it’s about you, James. My brother needs you.”
“No, he doesn’t,” James said.
“Yes, he does. And so does the rest. My brother has formed a new council. Did you know that?”
James was silent. Of course, he didn’t know. He had been gone since last December.
“He has formed a new council to appease those who tried to kill him, and to address those who killed your mate,” I explained.
“So, he has rewarded killers?” James growled.
“No, he has made peace. There hasn’t been peace like this in years. People are talking to each other now—alphas, pack members, lone wolves. Everyone has a voice. Octavia has even been officially recognized as queen,” I explained.
“How the hell did he come up with such a terrible idea?”
“It was Damian’s mate’s idea, I was told.”
“What?” he inquired, clearly stunned.
“Yeah, a half-blood who once tried to have Damian killed. Apparently, she was the daughter of someone from the former council. Turns out Damian and she are mates, and it saved them both.”
“Damian found his mate?” he asked, his eyes widening.
I nodded. “He did.”
“When?”
“In April,” I replied.
“What month are we in?”
“July.”
“That’s three months ago,” he whispered.
I nodded again, watching as James processed the information, realizing how much time had passed.
“You have been gone for half a year,” I said.
“Half a year?” he repeated in disbelief.
He fell silent, clearly trying to absorb the magnitude of what I had told him. Then, his eyes focused sharply on me once more. “Has anyone else found their mate?”
“No, not that I know of. It’s been quiet for a while now, and hopefully, it stays that way. But I did hear that a certain person is gone for good.”
“Who?” he inquired.
“Zane’s mother. Clarissa.”
- Writer
