Good Novel
Chapter 105
Chapter 105
“It was my brother,” Ashley says, chin lifted defiantly.
At least she isn’t lying. Her honesty isn’t enough to temper my anger though. The mention of her
brother sets my teeth on edge.
“Plotting another attack, were you?”
She narrows her eyes at me. “No. He called to see where I was, and I answered. He’s concerned about
my safety. If you want me to hand him over to you, I’ve got to know where he is. He has to trust me, or
he’ll vanish.”
I scoff at her use of the word “trust.” I’m not sure she knows what it means.
“And before you go accusing me of things again, I didn’t plan that attack. I didn’t know those wolves
were there,” she says.
“But you knew the wolves.”
I phrase it as a statement, not a question. She shakes her head, but I’m not fooled this time.
There’s no adrenaline or fear now. There’s no other reason for her heart rate to spike or for sweat to
gather at the nape of her neck.
She’s lying.
“Ashley, I’m not going to tolerate another lie. You knew those three wolves. You knew the attack
formation. It wasn’t until the second wolf attacked that you tried to intervene because you knew the first
was a decoy. You know them.”
Her throat bobs as she swallows.
“Okay, fine. I know them. But I didn’t know they were going to attack.”
Yet again, the truth isn’t satisfying. Not from her.
“And you didn’t think to warn me about Philipe’s little welcome party?”
“I would have, if I’d known they were there!” she protests.
It’s not good enough. No answer is good enough.
“They could have killed you without even meaning to. If they’d wounded me more seriously, you could
have been stranded out there with no way to communicate with Cam. You might never have seen
Merilee again. How can you pretend that Philipe cares about your safety?”
“He’s my brother!” she says, exasperated. “He’s all I have left—him and Merilee. Our pack is scattered
and our parents are dead. He’s my only family, Eric. You can’t expect me to turn my back on him so
easily.”
It’s a step too far.
Before I walked into this bedroom, Ashley was responsible for about half of my bad mood. The other
half came from our supply issues and seeing Mia and Cam together, reminding me of what Mia and I
shared, and what I’d lost when I met Ashley.
Now the percentages are closer to seventy percent Ashley and thirty percent everything else.
“Don’t you ever talk to me about losing family as if I don’t understand,” I tell her. “Corinne was my only
family, and you killed her just as surely as you killed your own mother.”
“I did what I had to do,” she says. “I’m sorry about your sister, but I didn’t kill her.”
“You did!” I roar. “You brought the wraiths that took her from me. Not just her—the Ravens, too. Rachel
and Lianne, Jessica and her mate—he didn’t survive long enough to see her body brought home.
Lianne’s mate still hasn’t come out of his house. They hadn’t had a formal ceremony yet, or he’d be
dead, too. Those women all had families and people who love them. I loved them—they were part of
my pack! There’s a trail of bloodshed across this country, and it all leads right to your feet.”
“I didn’t have a choice!”
I shove a hand through my hair. Choice. Again and again, it comes back to choice, and our problem is Property © 2024 N0(v)elDrama.Org.
that Ashley and I don’t agree on what that means.
“There is always a choice. Always.”
“But Philipe—”
“Philipe should have protected you!” I spit. “That’s the choice he should have made. It’s what I would
have done in his place if it were me and my sister. I would have defended her against her attackers.
And if she got hurt anyway, I would have helped her heal. I would have fought against her pain, not
wielded it like a weapon for my own gain!”
I’m angry at myself now, too. For getting caught up in another cycle of “what if.” For not being there in
New Orleans when Corinne needed me.
Hell, I’m even mad at myself for sending my wolves up to Alaska in the first place.
Ashley glares at me, and her anger triples mine. It’s infuriating that she can’t see the truth about how
Philipe is using her.
“Philipe isn’t concerned about your safety. He isn’t concerned about you,” I say. “If he cared about you,
he wouldn’t have done this to you. He used you to do all this dirty work, so all the consequences land
squarely on your shoulders, while he watches from afar, laughing at us all. That’s not what family does,
Ashley. He’s not your family. He’s your pimp.”
Her hand flies out. I don’t bother stopping the slap; it’s loud, but I barely feel the sting of it.