Chapter 3 – Accusations

Mina POV

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The office door slammed open, feet thundering into the room, but one look at the scene had the warriors hanging back. Only three stepped forward, but their approach didn’t move Mina’s fixed stare. She looked at the intricate handle of the blade sticking out of her mother’s chest. Its pale blue shone proud in the candlelight, as it stole the Luna’s life. It was the ornamental blade she had often admired in the office, but she had never been allowed to remove it from its glass case on the wall. In fact, she had never seen it touched, but could see now how well it had been cared for. There wasn't a speck of dust on its surface, only flecks of red marring its perfect sheen. She was certain its silver blade would have been polished to perfection too.  

  

  

  

A warm hand cupped her cheek, gently guiding her focus away from the weapon. The noise around her grew quickly as her awareness spread. There was movement beside her brother’s body, another warrior opposite her at the Luna’s side, more behind her at the door. She might’ve panicked at them seeing her in such a vulnerable moment, if it wasn’t for the calm in Alastor’s eyes. He searched her, but she shook her head. The blood wasn’t hers.   

  

  

  

He released a breath, then focused. “What happened, Princess?”   

  

  

  

She wanted to answer, but her tongue felt like sandpaper, clinging to each word. Alastor gave her a bottle of water, coaxing some past her lips when she fumbled it in shaking hands. It eased the tightness gripping her throat.  

  

  

  

“There was a man. At the window.” It was hard to bring the image of him to mind, though she felt like they had stared at each other for hours. It couldn’t have been, but even a second in his murderous gaze had been too long. “I don’t know who it was.”   

  

  

  

Alastor nodded, his eyes glazing over. Movement sprung about the room again, most of the warriors departing at his instruction. The weight of their attention lifted, and Mina sagged. Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she only felt their tickle on her skin. A thumb brushed them away. She peered up at him. The last time he had looked her way had been the dismissive glare as he left her birthday dinner. She wanted to say something, to bridge the chasm between them, but his attention flickered away too soon. It moved behind her and he stiffened.  

  

  

  

“I’ll find you later.” He promised, before rising.  

  

  

  

Alastor shared a short word with his father before he strode from the office. Only then did Mina realise everyone had left except Oliver and Owen. The latter dropped to her side, while his father checked over Sam. He had been moved, rolled to his back, a cushion placed under his head. He was pale, but she focused on the slight movement of his chest.   

  

  

  

“Are you okay?” Owen searched her over, moving her face this way and that, checking her pulse, feeling her temperature.   

  

  

  

He kept up his fussing until she pushed him away. It was too much. She knew she was fine. She didn’t want to be poked and prodded to be told as much. Especially, when her brother was out cold an arm’s length away.    

  

“I’m fine.”  

He didn’t believe her, and why should he, when she was covered in her mother’s blood. She reassured him again, wishing he’d stop looking at her. After what she had put him through that day, she didn’t want his worry. Anger would’ve been more appropriate, and yet here he was, being his usual caring self. Had he already forgotten what had happened? Was he ready to be her friend again?   

  

  

  

“The window, you say?” Oliver asked, his tone careful.  

  

  

  

The pair turned to him, but he didn’t look their way. “Yes. The one behind the desk.”  

  

  

  

“Owen, check it.”   

  

  

  

When his son started to protest leaving her side, the order was repeated and couldn't be ignored. Then, Oliver stood, his gaze analytical as it swept over the scene. He hesitated on her, the Luna, the window and Sam. Mina watched him. He was the strongest warrior in their pack, the head of the Hayre family and in charge of the pack’s protection. Was he seeing something she couldn’t? Was he questioning his defensive strategy of the pack now someone had slipped in and killed their Luna in her office? Mina wasn’t sure, but she frowned when he asked her to stand.   

  

  

  

“Why weren’t you asleep? It’s late.”   

  

  

  

Her frown deepened. “I couldn’t sleep. It’s been a hard day.”   

  

  

  

Her eyes flickered to Owen, but the edge to Oliver's voice made her continue. He had never spoken to her like that before, but she had heard the same tone used when he reprimanded a delinquent warrior. The urge to talk, to explain, had her repeating the last ten minutes, from when her mother screamed. When she mentioned the man in the window, he cut her off with a simple glance to Owen. 

  

  

  

He stood behind the desk; his brow furrowed. “The window is locked, Mina. Locked from the inside.”   

  

  

  

The words were a blow to her gut, her confusion spilling from her lips. “How? He was right there.”   

  

  

  

Owen started towards her, as if on reflex to her distress.  

  

  

  

“Stay there, Son.” Oliver snapped, making him halt.   

  

  

  

Mina spun wildly on the man, the nape of her neck prickling, sensing the danger in his voice. He was holding a crumbled piece of paper, his features set, hard. “What’s that?”  

  

  

  

“I think you should be telling us.”   

  

  

  

When he said nothing more, she snatched the paper from his hand. She scanned over it once, twice, the blood draining from her face as each word sunk in. It was a note from the Luna to Sam.   

   

“What is this?” She whispered.    

  

Oliver didn’t answer. She threw him a disbelieving look that tipped into desperation at the hard lines of his expression. There was no way he thought the note to be real. Yes, it was her mother’s elegant writing, her speech pattern, Mina could almost hear her mother’s voice reading the words in her mind, but it was also impossible. It had to be.  

  

Her mother hadn’t breathed a word of anything to her, like the note said she had. It lied about that, so it could be lying about Mina too. It must be. It was complete bullshit. However, the Hayre head didn’t reassure her that he thought the same. He didn’t laugh off the outlandish claim, nor insist it was false. Instead, he stared at her as if for the first time, analysing each feature, looking for the secrets beneath.  

  

Mina’s stomach dropped as his stare narrowed. Any kindness it had held of the man who had watched her grow up, been something of a father to her, was gone. Now he was just Oliver, the warrior, his eyes locked to a murderer. 

The situation quickly dawned on her, spreading through her body in a cold shiver that fanned through every nerve. The body on the floor, the blood on her hands, the note in her grip. The note that said she wasn’t really the Luna’s daughter, but a wolf she had raised after losing the rightful heir in childbirth.