Chapter 77: Veins of Vengeance

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ALEXANDER

~Failure.~

Fucking arrogance.

Useless.

Weak.

These words echoed in his mind as he threw another punch. ~And another~.

He blamed Jason, but he wasn’t the one who deserved the blame. It was on ~him~. He should have been certain.

He should have stood over that damn grave from dawn to dusk, day after day. He should have made sure. He should have ensured that he couldn’t breathe again, that his heart wouldn’t beat again.

But he hadn’t.

He was arrogant. He thought he was stronger. He thought he was superior. It cost him the safety of his mate, the safety of his child.

He could lose everything because he was an arrogant fool who thought he’d won.

Olivia was his mate, and he hadn’t been able to face her. He hadn’t been able to hold her and look at her while accepting the harsh truth.

She was in this situation because of him. He’d promised her that Will would never hurt her again, and he’d broken his promise. He had lied to her. He had to make it right.

He punched the brick wall again, the sound of his knuckles threatening to split open echoing in the silent night. He’d circled the building five times already. He checked every nook and cranny.

Maybe they planted something, maybe they were spying on them somehow. He used all his senses but found nothing. There was nothing.

Lina’s phone was already smashed to bits.

He didn’t want her to have intentionally or unintentionally downloaded anything on her phone. He wasn’t going to take any risks. She claimed she didn’t know anything. He didn’t know how much he believed her.

She seemed honest, but then again she had hidden so much from them.

Her grandmother—~his~ grandmother.

She had to know.

He needed her to know because he couldn’t control the rage swirling in his chest.

It was like a beast trying to break free, demanding blood in revenge for the betrayal that had occurred right under his nose. Jason had warned him he was distracted. He hadn’t taken it seriously enough.

If it weren’t for everything, for her, for her constant heats, would he have noticed something sooner?

Would he have somehow known that the damn bastard was alive?

It felt like the answer was yes.

If he were a better alpha, he would have known.

He should have known but he didn’t.

Alexander knew it wouldn’t end well for Olivia if another pack got their hands on her. Of course, it wouldn’t. But now, it somehow felt worse.

For the pack to help him—they must be doing it for their own benefit. He knew how an omega could be perceived. He’d offered a tempting promise. A breeding bitch.

Will had spent years manipulating Olivia psychologically.

Alex knew she was strong, but he knew if Will ever tried to get his hands on her, he’d try to break her. He’d try to take her back to that place, that time when she was all alone and broken and thought that all she had was ~him~.

He’d spin another false narrative.

Adding physical abuse to the mix? She’d eventually give in. Anyone would.

An omega, ready to be bred. One that could be used and controlled. They had an alpha.

He’d exerted such force on her. He’d dominated her, misused his authority, and she’d become so susceptible to his influence. She wouldn’t have a life of her own. She’d be a plaything, an object. A tool for his purposes.

Just the thought of it was enough to make his blood seethe. He’d rather die than let her suffer such a fate. He’d rescued her all those years ago, and it wasn’t for her to exist like this.

To be nothing more than a vessel for offspring. She was more than that. She was Olivia. He ~loved~ her. She was ~his~. And he was ~hers~.

He couldn’t live without her.

She was omnipresent. In his mind. In his heart. In the very air he breathed.

He’d always had a clear mind, but she clouded everything. Her presence was like a sheer curtain draped over his life. It didn’t block his view, but it added meaning to everything he did.

He finally understood why he kept striving, why he had to keep moving forward.

~And now there was the baby~.

A child that was both theirs.

A piece of him. A piece of her.

Another precious thing to love, to guard.

But also another vulnerability.

He slammed his fist into the wall again, blood spraying from the wounds on his hand. The wall was already stained, but it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t be enough until he fixed this mess. Until she was safe.

Until their family was secure.

Alex had thought the game had ended, but he was mistaken. It was still in progress, but he wasn’t about to lose. If that bastard wanted a battle, he was going to get one.

And it would conclude with Will’s head on a fucking stake. He would behead that jerk himself, display his head as a warning to anyone who’d dare to threaten him ~or her~.

He wouldn’t stop until there was carnage, until all their heads rolled and not a single one of them was left alive.

He would show no mercy.

The only option was ~death~.