Hidden Secrets (editing and improving the story)

Chapter 40 - Revelations

Elektra's pov:

Two days dragged by in absolute boredom. I spent them lingering around the cabin, doing nothing, while my father disappeared for hours on end. Where he went and what he did during those long absences—I had no idea. We only saw each other at lunch and dinner, exchanging little more than a few words. No explanations. No real conversation.

The frustration was eating me alive. I couldn't stay locked away like this any longer. I wanted to return to my pack, to take on my responsibilities. But every time I voiced my thoughts, my father would shut them down with vague reassurances.

"It'll all be over soon," he kept saying.

But I didn't believe him. How could I? He was a fugitive. The entire country was after him, and there was a massive bounty on his head. Yet somehow, he seemed convinced everything would be fine. That he could just keep going like nothing had happened. I was starting to wonder if he'd completely lost his mind.

"Father, what are you doing all day?" I asked him one evening.

"I have a lot to take care of," he replied curtly.

"Can I help somehow?"

"No," he said flatly, rising from his seat.

"Father, wait," I said, standing too.

"What?" he snapped, turning on me with a glare.

"I just want to do something. I can't stay here all day doing nothing," I said, my frustration spilling over.

"What exactly do you want to do?" he asked, his voice like ice.

"I want to go back to the pack," I said firmly.

"Jordan is there," he replied, his tone sharp.

"How long am I supposed to stay here?" I asked, my voice rising with anger. I was sick of this. I wasn't going to sit around while Jordan ran my pack. I wasn't going to be hidden away like some helpless child.

"As long as needed," he said coldly, and then he turned and walked out.

What was that? Why was he being so hostile? What had I done to deserve this? It was obvious now—he didn't want me back in the pack. But why?

I called after him, but he didn't even look back. He left the cabin, shifted into his wolf form, and vanished into the forest.

Once again, I was alone—left with nothing but questions.

Night fell quickly, and I spent the evening wandering the woods, picking fruit and nuts. My father hadn't returned yet, so I ate a few pieces to quiet the gnawing in my stomach. By eleven, I gave up waiting. I ate a simple dinner, washed the dishes, and went to bed—not because I was tired, but because lying down was better than sitting in silence, waiting.

Hours passed. Sometime around midnight, sleep finally claimed me.

The next morning, the cabin was still empty. My father hadn't returned. I got dressed, made coffee, and nibbled on some of the cookies I had baked the day before. With nothing else to do, I'd spent days in the kitchen, discovering I wasn't such a bad cook after all.

But the idleness was unbearable.

I needed to move. Frosty, my wolf, was restless too. I surrendered control to her and ran into the forest, letting instinct guide us. The trees welcomed us, sunlight filtering through blooming branches, birds flitting through the air. It was a beautiful spring day—but even the peace of the woods couldn't quiet the storm inside me.

As dusk approached, I turned back. These woods were unfamiliar, and I had no desire to meet what lurked in the dark. I returned to the cabin, shifted back, and stepped inside.

And froze.

The cabin was a mess—upended chairs, broken dishes, drawers yanked open and left hanging. Then my father emerged from my bedroom, fury in his eyes and a snarl in his throat. His pupils were jet-black. His wolf was in control.

"Where have you been?" he roared. "I've been looking for you since this afternoon!"

"I just went for a walk," I replied, trying to keep calm.

"What's wrong with you?" he snapped.

"What do you mean?"

"You are not to leave this cabin!"

"I was bored, okay? You expect me to sit around all day? My wolf needs freedom."

"Liar!" he bellowed. "You went to your lover!"

"What?" I blinked, stunned. "I don't have a lover."

"Don't lie to me!" he hissed. "Just like your mother. A filthy traitor."

"Father—"

"Stop calling me that!"

Something was wrong. His voice was slurred, his movements erratic. He was drunk. Pacing the room like a caged animal, he dragged his hand through his hair, breathing heavily.

Then, suddenly, he stopped. His eyes locked onto mine.

"You betrayed me," he said, voice low and bitter. "I gave you everything—offered you the world. And you rejected me like spoiled fruit."

"I never—what are you saying? I never betrayed you!"

"You let pride blind you to my love."

"Father, of course I love you!" I cried. "I always have."

"Then prove it," he whispered.

He stepped closer, cupping my face in his hands. His breath hit my skin. His face moved toward mine—too close. My stomach churned.

"What... what are you doing?" I recoiled.

"I'm not your damn father," he growled.

My breath caught. "What?"

"Your father is Andrew—the former Gamma of the Silver Moon Pack."

"What?" I staggered back, reeling. "No... that's not possible."

"You're not my daughter," he said, venom in his voice. "Your mother cheated on me. You're the result of her betrayal."

My heart stopped. The room spun.

"No. This can't be happening."

"You'll pay for her sins," he growled, grabbing my arm.

"Let me go!" I struggled, panic rising. Tears blurred my vision.

"Don't resist me," he said, pulling me closer.

He pressed his lips to mine. I broke free and stumbled backward, gasping in horror.

"Why?" I sobbed. "I never did anything to you! I was always your daughter!"

"You're just like her. A liar. A traitor."

"You raised me! You watched me grow, you taught me—how can you throw that all away?"

"You're not mine," he spat. "You mean nothing to me."

"Father—please—this isn't you. I understand you're angry, but I didn't do anything!"

"I said stop calling me that!" he shouted, lunging forward.

I retreated, but he was faster. He cornered me, gripping my wrists. His breath came in ragged bursts. His fury radiated off him like heat.

"This isn't real," I whispered. "It's a nightmare. I'll wake up soon."

But I didn't.

He leaned in, his voice like ice. "From now on, your life belongs to me. You'll do exactly what I say."

"You're paranoid," I whispered.

"Silence!" he roared.

"Why are you doing this to me?" I cried.

"Because you'll pay for her sins."

"I've always been loyal—"

"Enough lies! From now on, I own you. I will do whatever I want with you."

"No!" I screamed.

Then everything went black.