Chapter 302

I stepped out of the Council building, the air suddenly feeling too heavy to breathe properly. My feet seemed to move on their own accord, carrying me further and further away from the labyrinth of questions and revelations I had just left behind.

“What do you think, Steel?” I asked my wolf, mentally conversing with the other side of me that was more than just instinct and raw power. He was a part of my soul, a partner in navigating the complexities of being both man and beast. And he always had something astute to say.

The wolf grumbled in confusion and uncertainty. “It’s hard to say, Nathan. We know Layla speaks the truth, but it’s a hard truth to swallow. It could throw a wrench into your already complicated dynamic with Olivia and the twins.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” I sighed aloud. My hands clenched into fists, my fingernails digging into my palms. The idea that I could be a biological father to another child, and Layla’s child at that, was a shock to my system.

“If the child is ours, we cannot abandon him,” my wolf said solemnly. “We cannot be like Ryan.”

“I have no intention of becoming anything like that bastard,” I snapped out loud, feeling my blood boil at the mere mention of that name. “But what does that mean for Olivia? For us?”

“That’s a bridge we’ll just have to cross when we get there,” my wolf replied wisely. “But we can’t run from this. We owe it to ourselves to find out the truth.”

I knew my wolf was right, but that truth was like a tightrope over a chasm of consequences. What would happen with Olivia if it were true?

I couldn’t imagine losing her, not after everything we’d been through. Despite what she seemed to think, I did love her. I was just… angry. And hurt. But our love wasn’t something you found every day, and the thought of putting it at risk tormented me.

As I wandered aimlessly, my thoughts drifted to my sister, Jenifer. We used to be so close, but her need for revenge and my father’s cruel actions drove us apart.

However, despite her issues and the bad blood between us, a part of me still missed the relationship we once had. Maybe, in some strange way, talking to her would offer some perspective on this messed-up situation.

As I walked toward my car, I remembered the last time I talked to Jenifer months ago, and how she had seemed more collected and lucid thanks to her treatment. Even though it had been ages since I had last seen her, I hoped that she would still be open to talking to me.

…

As the car sped down the highway, I couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of dread settling in my stomach.

It had been months since I had last seen Jenifer, and the heaviness of my recent discovery weighed on my mind. Talking to her seemed like a fitting distraction, maybe even a source of guidance, despite the complicated mess that our relationship had become.

It was still a shock when the mental institution finally came into view, a sterile building surrounded by tall iron fences. The atmosphere felt cold, unwelcoming.

Parking the car, I took a moment to collect myself. I felt like a bundle of raw nerves, every cell in my body buzzing with tension. I sighed, forced myself to calm down, and got out of the car.

Walking into the building, I took note of the sterile walls and linoleum floors. It looked just as I remembered, but knowing Jenifer was inside somehow made it different, almost tainted.

Approaching the front desk, my eyes met those of the receptionist. She looked tired but professional, her eyes widening a bit as she recognized me.

“Alpha Nathan, how may I assist you today?” she asked.

“I’m here to visit my sister, Jenifer,” I stated, my voice tinged with a mix of reluctance and hope. I needed this, a connection to my past, however fraught it might be.

The receptionist’s fingers clenched the edge of the desk. “Alpha Nathan… I thought you knew.”

At the receptionist’s words, I felt my heart sink for reasons unknown. My chest filled with dread almost instantly. “Knew what?” I asked.

“Jenifer escaped some time ago.”

My eyes widened, the weight of her words hitting me like a sledgehammer. “What do you mean, ‘escaped’? And why wasn’t I notified?”

“We tried to contact you, Alpha,” she said, her eyes flicking down, not meeting mine. “There were several attempts to reach you over the phone. After so long, we figured that you knew and had dealt with it on your own.”

My hand immediately went to my pocket, pulling out my phone. Scrolling through the call log, my heart sank.

Multiple calls from a private number stared back at me, each one a missed opportunity, each one a stab of regret. I had ignored them, dismissing them as likely spam.

“I… I didn’t know,” I muttered, more to myself than to her. “Why didn’t you leave a message or send someone to find me?”

“We did speak with one of the Elders,” the receptionist said hesitantly. “We were told that the message would be relayed to you.”

My fists clenched involuntarily, a bitter taste flooding my mouth. Of course it was the Elders. But why hide something like this from me? Why knowingly allow Jenifer to walk freely when she was still under treatment?

“How… How long?” I stuttered in disbelief. “How long has she been gone?”

“A few weeks, sir,” she replied, her eyes still avoiding mine.

Weeks. Jenifer had been out there for weeks, and I had no idea. The news wrapped around me like a vice, tightening with every breath I took.

“Thank you for informing me,” I said curtly, my voice barely hiding the storm of emotions brewing inside me.

“You’re welcome, Alpha. If there’s anything else—”

“There isn’t,” I interrupted, turning swiftly on my heels and exiting the building.

As I walked back to my car, my mind was a hurricane of thoughts, whirling faster and faster until it was all one big blur. I unlocked the car and slid into the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. The interior of the car felt suffocating, as if the walls were closing in on me.

“Damn it,” I hissed under my breath, my vision clouding as I battled the onslaught of anger and guilt crashing over me.

Jenifer had escaped, and I hadn’t even known she was missing.

I was losing control, not just over the present circumstances involving Layla and a child that might be mine, but even my family ties were frayed and broken. I couldn’t keep the most vulnerable among us safe, and the realization hit me like a ton of bricks.

My fingers trembled as I started the car, pulling out of the institution’s parking lot. My grip on the steering wheel was unsteady, just like everything else in my life at that moment.

The drive back was a haze, the road stretching infinitely before me, each mile marker a reminder of how far I had fallen, how much I had lost.

Jenifer was out there somewhere, her mental state unknown, her location a mystery. I hadn’t even known she was gone. If I was honest with myself, I hadn’t been present in a long time.

And that realization was the hardest to swallow.