Chapter 124

Tyler POV

"Just because they put her in a bag doesn't mean she was giftwrapped for death. There are potions to slow the heart, stop breathing, make someone seem dead even when they're not---I'm asking you if you think Patrick Flores would be capable of lying about your mother's death for his own gain?"

I could tell Rachel was thinking of all the scams Patrick had pulled in her life; I thought of all the times he'd lied to me, personally, lied right in front of me, an Alpha, lied to others, and I couldn't deny it was possible.

"Maybe? I don't want to say 'yes', Art. We're talking about my mother. And the man I thought was my father for my whole life. If he faked her death, where has she been?"

"Richard Campbell faked her death and she just walked away. Whose to say she didn't walk away this time? With the right incentive?"

"No!" Rachel shouted at him.

She finally releasing her death grip on my shirt to instead raise her hand to Art with every intention of slapping him silly until I grabbed her arm first.

I had no doubt Art would have let her slap him, but I didn't want to know what the Alpha Inspector would say or do to Rachel after she did.

"My mother would never have walked away from me or Ethan. Never."

"Then he's kept her somewhere. Somewhere she can't get out. He could do that. I have no doubt he'd do it for the right price."

"Who would pay him? There was no money from my mother's death, Art. None. I had no idea she was from a wealthy Alpha House or the heir to a pack the size of Moonglow."

"Richard Campbell would have known though. He would have had the resources too. Who says he didn't find your mother? Who says he hasn't known about you and Ethan all along? With his resources, Rachel, there is very little he couldn't do."

I found Rachel turning cold in my arms, freezing up almost as I imagined her mother had been when she'd lain still in her supposed deathbed.

"Why would they go to the trouble?" Rachel asked though I could already guess what Art was going to answer.

"Blood money is a big motivator. Blood is a big motivator. This world is made up of more monsters than you know, Rachel. We're all slaves to the blood trade in one way or another. Now I just need permission to start looking into Elena Campbell."

"If you're asking me for it? You have it. Just. Tell me everything. No matter what you find out. I want to know. Deal?"

Art offered her his hand and I released my grip on her arm so she could shake it with the firmest grip her shaking hand could manage.

"Deal."

"I'm going to hold you to that one, Windsor."

It wasn't so much a threat as it was a promise: Art Windsor would not open the possibility of returning Rachel's mother to her without following through on it to the bitter end.

For good or evil, we'd have answers.

"I would expect nothing less, Wright."

He gave me a look which conveyed exactly how much he relished the idea of challenging me and I was struck all over again by how different my view of the world had become since learning Rachel carried our child.

I would have been hungry for a fight with an Alpha as powerful as Windsor before learning I was to be a father. Now? I didn't want to take the chance he'd kill me to preserve his own status in our world.

Art had told the truth when he'd spoken about wolfen views of omegas.

I had been taught my whole life to disregard an omega as unworthy of my attention. Omega wolves were useful to pad the numbers of a pack, pick up the servile jobs no self-respecting Alpha would ever do, and keep the pack land flourishing as it was up to the omegas to do most of the general 'living' in a territory.

"Let's get back to the waiting area. I don't like the idea of leaving Lewis alone with Lindy as our only source of information if someone comes to give an update."

It was a flimsy excuse and I knew it just as I knew Art Windsor knew it---but we were both trying to do our best to handle Rachel without upsetting her beyond the point of reason.

Her mood swings were getting more volatile as her pregnancy progressed. I had heard women could become irrational from the hormones, but I realized I'd been given no clear idea of what exactly pregnancy could do to a woman beside increasing her weight for a time.

Rachel let us lead her back to the Surgical Waiting Room with no complaint. I probed at our mate bond to get an idea of how she was feeling and was unsurprised to find her in almost a state of shock. Her aura still felt cold to me; I wrapped an arm around her shoulders to pull her flush against my side as we walked.

"Any word?"

I could tell from the bored look on Lewis's face no one had come to tell him anything. I asked for Rachel's sake all the same.

I'd rather look a fool for her comfort than let her stress build up again.

Her tears cut into me deeper than any claws ever could.

Lewis only shook his head. He didn't want to say the words out loud any more than we both knew Rachel wanted to hear them.

I considered offering her the comfort of the old saying 'No news can be good news.' only to realize she'd likely hurt herself trying to hit me for it and chose to keep my mouth shut.

Leading Rachel to the bank of chairs across from the ones Lewis occupied with Lindy, I tried to get comfortable in the hard seat.

The waiting room was a dismal place to be trapped; I realized if I was uncomfortable in the chairs, Rachel must be feeling miserable. There was no way for me to make her more at ease either. The chairs were bolted to the floor as were the side tables which bracketed each row of seats.

All the room boasted other than the seats and chairs was an old-fashioned coiled cord phone fixed to the wall beside a sink area with a coffee pot which didn't offer the option for anything other than boiling water to be dispensed.

There wasn't even an icemaker available.

"I need to do something about this room. If we're going to be here for an indeterminate amount of time, you can't continue trying to sit upright in these awful chairs. We can't even get your ice water in here. It's a disgrace."

"Is that what you and Art were discussing for so long? Redecorating?"

Leave it to Nathan Lewis to have Wynd raising his hackles with only a few words. I focused on controlling the anger inside me by carefully thinking over what I would tell him of the conversation we'd just finished.

I was intending to tell him only the vaguest hint of Windsor's worries when Rachel beat me to speaking.

"Art thinks Patrick faked my mother's death, too. Probably because he could have taken the idea from her directly. She had to have told him about Moonglow Pack. Patrick wouldn't have let her keep her whole life before him a secret. He's always looking for the next con. You know how he is," Rachel shrugged, leaning against me as if sitting up on her own was too much for her.

"He thinks your mother is still alive?"

Lewis sounded as gobsmacked as Rachel had and I wondered how well he had known Elena Campbell. Or knew Elena Campbell? Should I start to think of her as a living, breathing possibility or continue to remember she was a part of Rachel's past I would never know?

"It's a possibility," I snapped, "We're trying to consider every angle. We want to be prepared in case Rachel is confronted with more fallout from her inheritance out of House Campbell."

"What inheritance? She can't take the Alpha House. She's mated to you."

Lewis said it as if Rachel's mating to me was something filthy he'd rather not touch on and I found myself pushing Wynd down even more firmly in my mind.

At least I knew if it came to a fight with Lewis? I wouldn't have to worry about who would come out the victor. Wynd was much stronger than Lewis's wolf; Lyon would be no match for Wynd in a challenge whereas I wasn't sure what kind of risk I'd be taking if Wynd tried to invoke right of challenge with Windsor's Merlyn.

"Rachel stands to inherit more than the Alpha House from Moonglow Pack. House Campbell funds the whole pack. There's got to be something left aside for her heirs."

"Why wouldn't Patrick have forced Elena to go after that inheritance directly then? Why fake her death? What would he gain from hiding her away?"

Lewis made good points and I hated him for it.

More than I hated him, I hated I didn't have answers for him. I hated sitting in this dim, lifeless room with my pregnant mate waiting on news about her only family's fate.

"Even more importantly---what are we going to do to find out the truth?"