Scarlet Rogue (Book One)

Chapter Twenty-Three: Betrayal Runs Deep

Ayden

The clear, crystal glass sits in my hand with the brown liquid swirling around as my hand rocks back and forth, contemplating how many more glasses are needed to knock an Alpha out. It's going to be a hell of a lot but ever eager to find out, I bring the glass to my lips gulping down the warm, fiery blend.

Nothing, ten glasses down and barely tipsy. The walls still straight and the pain in my chest stronger than ever, disappearing only for the few seconds the whisky hits my throat.

Alpha, the prisoner is gone. No forced entry, whoever did this had a key.

Erik's mind link confirms my suspicions that Kurt took the prisoner. Going to the Queen's land without insider knowledge would be suicide, everyone is aware of that. That's the only reason, my men haven't been instructed to follow them past the borders. Believe me, I have been tempted to run their myself.

The confirmation earns another pour of the liquid, a double measure this time, which I gulp down faster than ever. Still feeling no different, I let out a growl throwing the glass across the room, watching it shatter as it impacts against the wall. Pieces of glass now on the floor as if done by design.

"Jesus, another glass," Mark says within seconds peaking in from the corridor, making his way inside to the liquor cupboard carefully avoiding the pieces of glass. "You've destroyed all of Mom's glasses."

His accusatory tone earns a glare from me, daring him to remain here to see the brunt of how much more I'm capable of beyond destroying glasses. She's been gone a long time; she's not coming back and neither are Kurt or Kaelynn. They all left and their possessions don't deserve to remain here either.

"Just relax," Mark says bending down to pick up the shattered pieces from the floor.

He's trying to hold on to the last memories of her but can't he see that the false hope is just prolonging the torture. I look at him partly in pity and partly in frustration, wanting to shake the memories out of him so he can move on.

"She's gone, they all are," I say feeling defeated.

"They'll be back, I know it," Mark says, desperation laced in his voice.

"Then why haven't they returned?"

Silence follows my question and why wouldn't it? He can't answer the question until he accepts the sad truth. Mark quietly takes the broken chunks he's picked up and walks out, no doubt he will try to mend the glass. With all the glasses now broken, I take a glug straight from the bottle. The burn giving me a brief second of relief.

As if I want to torture myself further, my last memory of Mom comes back to haunt me as it does every so often.

The smell of freshly made bread wafts through the air signifying the morning has begun. I walk down to the kitchen where Brandon and Mark watch Mom thump the bottom of a loaf.

"That's done!" She says satisfied with the sound, "Now kids, let it cool slightly before eating."

When she sees me, she smiles and at that moment, the smile gives me all the comforts in the world. Soon I'd come to hate the vision of that smile but I didn't know that then. Walking up to the trio, I take a seat on a barstool to tempt fate by biting into the bread despite her warning.

"Ow, ow," I screech as the bread burns the roof of my mouth but that doesn't stop me from eating it.

By then Mom has already left the room and little did I know she had left our lives.

A crunching sound nudges me out of my thoughts. Looking up, I see Dad has stepped on a piece of glass that Mark must have missed. He picks it out of his foot before walking over to my desk and placing it in front of us. Leaving a trail of blood on the floor before he takes a seat opposite me, he does nothing but observe the broken fragment.

"Your mother gave me that on our tenth anniversary."

I've heard the story; I know all the gifts she gave. Heck, I remember everything but those memories do nothing but haunt us. Now I will have Kaelynn and Kurt's memories to add to the pile of hauntings. Gulping down another sip of the whisky, this time letting it linger around my throat, I swallow slowly.

"You're doing well, son. You haven't destroyed the office this time," Dad says trying to insert some humour in.

He's right though, save a few dents and the glasses. Maybe the reality has hit me that everyone leaves and fighting it is pointless, or maybe it's because my anger has dissipated turning to sorrow. I may not want to destroy everything around me but I sure as hell want to destroy myself.

"How did you do it?" I ask Dad knowing he understands full well what I'm asking.

"I just had to. You and your brothers needed me, the pack did too. There was too much on my shoulders to not do it," Dad pauses before saying the rest with a heavy heart. "She'll come back; I know she will."

This is where Mark gets his delusional ideas from. Dad is a dreamer; he always has been but how do I tell him to draw the line and accept his mate is never coming back? Even with Kaelynn running off with Kurt, my heart nor my wolf can fully accept it so how can I expect it from Dad?

I blame the Moon Goddess for pairing us in such twisted ways, giving us mates capable of destroying us. Kaelynn's scent of freshly baked bread is the most twisted fate of all; playing with nostalgia and happy memories only for history to repeat itself.

Seeing Dad's hopeful face gives me the courage to close the bottle of whisky, laying it down on my top drawer for easy access for tomorrow. I'll need it again soon enough. As I begin to close the draw, my eyes fall on Kaelynn's file, pulling it out from beneath the bottle.

Any information inside can't be worse than treason and infidelity. Plucking the courage, I open it scanning through the information noting most of it to be irrelevant. About to call this a wasted task, I glance over at the last page stopping in my tracks, taken aback by what I see.

Picking up the phone, I know exactly who can figure this out, "Baden, I need your help."