The Alpha Who Broke Me

CHAPTER NINE

My mind reels, but before I can form a coherent thought, a voice cuts through the air behind us—cold, hard, and achingly familiar.

"What the f**k did you just say?"

My blood freezes in my veins. I spin around, my heart nearly stopping in my chest.

Vincent stands before us, his powerful frame rigid with tension, his dark eyes burning with fury. The careful composure he wore during our earlier confrontation has completely shattered, replaced by something primal and dangerous.

Why the hell did he have to hear what Lewis said?

The silence stretches between us, heavy and suffocating. Around us, I'm dimly aware that other guests have begun to notice the tension. Conversations quiet, heads turn in our direction. The string quartet continues playing, but their melody feels distant and surreal.

Vincent's gaze burns into mine, his fury rolling off him in waves that make my wolf cower. I see it all written across his face—the possessiveness, the disbelief, the raw rage. Like I've somehow betrayed him by merely existing in another man's presence.

But Lewis doesn't flinch. He remains tall and seemingly relaxed, but I can feel the tension coiling beneath the surface. His jaw tightens almost imperceptibly, shoulders squaring as his stance shifts slightly in front of me. Like a predator watching his enemy, calculating.

"I must've heard wrong, right, Thornfield?" Vincent says with a dangerous smile, stalking toward us in his tailored black suit. Each step is measured, controlled, but there's violence simmering just beneath the surface.

"Why would my conversations be any of your business, Lopez?" Lewis replies, his voice deceptively smooth yet laced with hostility.

"Because she's mine." Vincent's words drip with possessiveness, his gaze never leaving my face as he moves closer.

Lewis's laugh is cold, humorless. "I think we both heard what my wolf just recognized."

"Doesn't mean s**t to me. She's mine, so stay the hell away from her."

"You must be delusional to think you can keep me away from my mate just because she's your secretary."

"Secretary?" Vincent's voice drops to a growl. "Kaia is far more than that."

"Oh, you mean your ex-girlfriend?" Lewis's smile turns predatory. "That ancient history doesn't give you any f*****g right over her."

"But you see, that's where you're wrong." Vincent locks eyes with me for the first time since this confrontation began. His gaze is filled with an emotion I can't name—something stronger and more desperate than the possessiveness from earlier. "Kaia—"

"Stop." The word tears from my throat before I can stop it. Both men turn to look at me, and I realize my hands are shaking. The whiskey glass trembles in my grip. "Just... stop."

I can feel every eye in our section of the ballroom on us now. Talia appears at the edge of my vision, her face pale with concern. Other pack members whisper behind their hands, and I catch fragments of their conversations.

"Is that really...?"

"The Thornfield Alpha and...?"

"What did he call her?"

The weight of their stares, their judgment, their curiosity crashes over me like a wave. This is exactly what I've been trying to avoid—being the center of pack drama, being fought over like a prize.

"I need air," I manage, setting down my glass with shaking hands.

"Kaia, wait—" Vincent starts, but I'm already pushing past both of them.

I flee toward the terrace doors, my heels clicking rapidly against the marble floor.

Behind me, I hear Lewis's voice, low and urgent: "This isn't over, Lopez."

And Vincent's response, deadly quiet: "You're right. It's not."

VINCENT

I haven't slept since the gala three nights ago. Every time I close my eyes, I hear Lewis Thornfield's voice saying those two words that have been eating at me like acid: "My mate."

The bastard is wrong. He has to be wrong.

I'm reviewing the same quarterly report for the fourth time when James, my head tracker, knocks on my office door. The sharp scent of forest and exhaustion clings to him, telling me he's been running patrol all night.

"Come in," I call, grateful for the distraction from my spiraling thoughts.

James steps inside, closing the door behind him. He's a solid wolf, mid-thirties, with the kind of steady reliability that makes him perfect for border security. But right now, his expression is grim.

"We've got a problem, Alpha," he says without preamble.

I lean back in my chair, every muscle in my body tensing. After the gala confrontation, I'm on edge about everything. "What kind of problem?"

"The northern border. We found more dead birds this morning. Dozens of them—ravens, hawks, even a few owls." He runs a hand through his dark hair. "All of them have their necks snapped clean. No other injuries, no signs of predation."

My stomach drops. This is getting worse, not better.

"Any patterns?" I ask, though I already know the answer.

"Same as before. Arranged in circles, like some kind of ritual. But there's no scent, no tracks, nothing to indicate what's doing this." James's voice drops. "Alpha, this is the fourth incident in two weeks. Whatever's killing them, it's not natural."

I stand and walk to the window overlooking the forest, my mind immediately jumping to worst-case scenarios. First Thornfield shows up at the gala claiming Kaia as his mate, now mysterious deaths at our borders. The timing feels wrong.

"Double the northern patrols," I tell him. "And I want to know immediately if you find anything else. Anything at all."

"Yes, Alpha."

After James leaves, my wolf paces restlessly, picking up on some instinct I can't quite name. Something is wrong in my territory, something that goes beyond normal pack concerns. And after what happened at the gala, I can't shake the feeling that everything is connected to Kaia somehow.

A knock at the door interrupts my spiraling thoughts. "Come in."

It's Alfred, my Beta. He's been my father's second-in-command for fifteen years, and when Dad stepped down, Alfred stayed on to help me transition into leadership. He's pushing forty now, with graying hair and the kind of steady presence that keeps the pack centered.

"Everything alright, Alpha?" He closes the door behind him, his brown eyes sharp with concern. "You've seemed... on edge since the gala."

"Fine." I turn back to the window, watching workers move like ants through the construction site below. "Just pack business."

"The omega," he says carefully. "Dawson's daughter. I heard about what happened at the gala. Thornfield's claim."

My shoulders tense. Of course word has spread through the pack. Nothing stays secret for long in our community.

"Thornfield is delusional," I say, my voice deadly quiet.

"Maybe so." Alfred moves closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But his claim has the pack talking. And if there's any truth to the rumors about you and the omega... Vincent, an Alpha getting involved with an omega won't stand. It undermines everything our hierarchy is built on."

My jaw ticks. Alfred's not wrong about pack politics, but he doesn't know the whole story. Never has.

"That won't be an issue," I say. "She's an employee. Nothing more."

The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. The last thing I want is for Kaia to have people like Alfred questioning her place here when I'm still fighting to make her even want to be near me.

Alfred studies my profile, then nods slowly. "Of course. I'll make sure the others understand that.” He leaves without another word.

I'm still lost in thought when my office door opens again. This time it's Talia, and she doesn't bother knocking. That makes three visitors in the span of twenty minutes. What a day!

"We need to talk," she says, closing the door behind her with deliberate precision.

I note the determined set of her jaw. She's been avoiding me since the gala, probably trying to process what she witnessed.

"About what?"

"About Kaia." She settles into the chair across from my desk, crossing her arms. "You have to tell me why you guys broke up. The real reason."

The words hang heavy in the air, the weight of years of unanswered questions pressing down on us both.

"Not this again, Talia. Just drop it. It's better you don't know."

There's an edge to my voice now, a warning she should know better than to ignore. But this is Talia—she's never been good at backing down.

"The more you refuse to tell me, the more curious I am." She presses on, undeterred by my reluctance. "Vincent, what happened at the gala... the way you reacted when Thornfield called her his mate. That wasn't just territorial Alpha bullshit. That was personal."

I lean back in my chair, meeting her determined gaze. "Talia, just let it go. The reason we broke up is better kept a secret. Trust me."

My tone is final, brooking no argument. Some truths are too ugly to share, especially with someone who still looks at you like you're worth something. This is the same reason I haven't told Kaia, even now that she's back—and most especially why I won't bring it up.

Why cut fresh wounds when we're still trying to find our way back to each other? But it doesn't mean I've forgotten what I did. I'll remember for the rest of my life, but I also vow to always secretly make it up to her forever.

She stares at me for a long moment, searching my face for any c***k in my resolve. Finally, she sighs, the fight draining out of her.

"I really want to know, but I can't force you to tell me." Her voice carries disappointment and frustration in equal measure. "But Vincent... whatever happened between you two, it's not over. I see the way you look at her. The way she runs from you."

I don't respond. Can't respond. Because she's right, and we both know it.

"Just... be careful," she continues. "Whatever you did to her, it cut deep. And if Thornfield is really claiming she's his mate..." She doesn't finish the thought, but she doesn't need to.

After Talia leaves, I'm alone with my thoughts and the weight of seven years' worth of guilt. The dare. The laughter. Now Thornfield is claiming she's his mate, and every instinct I have is screaming that he's wrong. That she's mine. She's always been mine.

I pick up my phone and scroll through my contacts until I find James's number.

"I want discrete security around the construction site," I tell him when he answers. "Nothing obvious, but I want to know who's coming and going."

"Any specific threat, Alpha?"

I think about Thornfield's predatory smile at the gala, the way he looked at Kaia like she was a prize to be won. About the dead birds at our borders and the feeling that everything is connected somehow.

"Just a precaution," I say finally. "And James? Make sure nothing happens to Kaia Dawson. She's under my protection now."

"Understood, Alpha."