The Exiled Alpha

Chapter fourteen

My hair is draped over my face like a curtain of privacy. I rest my forehead against my hands, but sadly, not even I could block the loud talking out of my head.

"How certain are you?" My father's voice comes to my ears and I have to shake my head again to relieve some of the stress. "I am a hundred percent certain." I mumble out, lifting my head to look to him. The living room is filled with pack members and I feel claustrophobic, confined between bodies that keep on staring at me. My father is one of those bodies, accompanied with the Betas and Gammas. And then there are me, my brothers and Sam.

"How can we trust them? This is Frederick's son we're talking about." Knox speaks up and my wolf growls quietly at him, angry at the fact that he's speaking foul of my mate. "Because he saved me from Max maybe." I answer back with a clipped tone, looking into Knox's hazel eyes that don't look anything like Elliot's. Knox's eyes have more specks of honey brown in them, but Elliot's have specks of jade green.

"What if it's an act?" Drew speaks up, his doubts starting to form lines on his face. I feel more and more frustrated with all of them and I just wish I could tell them to trust my mate. Because he wouldn't do anything to harm me or my pack.

"But what if it's not? Just think about it. A small group inside of Frederick's pack helping us." Petra has hope shining in her eyes, but her brother Knox quickly dismisses the idea. My father is silent, letting most of us talk it out, while he gains more and more information.

"I don't think you punch the lights out of a guy just to save the girl from your enemy pack." Tyler says and I almost hug my brother for being on my side. "Or maybe you just act that way so you can actually gain the enemy's trust and then you can take them down easier." Knox fires back and I feel a headache coming to press against my forehead. "Keep your friends close and your enemies closer." Drew adds, agreeing with the Beta who is completely against Elliot. Mary walks up and down the huge living room, her eyes glued to the floor as she thinks. Her brown eyes suddenly turn towards me, a soft look in them.

"Honey, do you trust him?" She asks, her eyes focused only on me. Mary Johnson is one of the few werewolves that knows about my leadership skills and my clear head when everything else is in chaos. I press my lips together as everyone looks to me, waiting for an answer to come from me. "Yes, I do." I answer, nodding. A small smile breaks onto Mary's face as she nods, finally stopping the nervous pacing.

"So do I." Samantha suddenly speaks up, making everyone turn to her. "Believe it or not, but that pack is my worst enemy. Nobody else could hurt me as much as they hurt me. But I trust Elliot. He has changed and matured, something I never expected from a hothead like him, but he is the one leading this small group against his father. He is the one who apologized to me for how they treated me." Sam explains, her eyes holding determination in them. I notice how she squeezes Tyler's hand in comfort, my brother's arm wrapping around her just a little bit tighter. "Plus, Maddison is just like me." Her voice is softer now when she says this. I furrow my eyebrows together, glancing at her.

"What do you mean?" Petra asks, one of her eyebrows raised. Samantha clears her throat and looks at my father. "Maddison is one of the best Healers in training I know. She would never waste her medicine on someone she does not plan on keeping close. And just because she isn't strong enough, her skills are being discriminated, overlooked. She tried to heal someone and Frederick almost killed her, saying that she almost killed one of the pack members." Samantha explains, her fingers lacing with Tyler's. This is a very sensitive topic for her, this is how she became a Rogue who didn't trust anyone.

My father still keeps quiet. I can see he's deep in thought by the way he's scratching the little buds of hair on his chin. The only person who hasn't really spoken at all is Thomas. I glance over to him, seeing his closed palm pressed against his lips. He's just as deep in thought as our father.