Alpha’s Hybrid Cinderella
Chapter 45

Evan's call came barely two seconds after I fled the kitchen. I had been about to call him myself as soon as the Delta had broken the news, so before the ringer even went off, I had already picked up. "Evan! Are you okay? Is anyone hurt? Oh, my God, I heard about Osborn. Please be careful-"

"Claudia." His voice was gravel-rough, strained. "Go to your room and make sure your windows and door are locked. Don't let anyone in unless it's Peelle. He's coming to pick you up."

"What? Right now? Is he bringing me to you-"

"Claudia. Listen to me. Go upstairs now. Don't stop to talk to anyone. Don't open the door for anyone. Keep me on the phone."

Fear curled in my chest, ice shards digging into my lungs as I hurried up the stairs to the second floor. I wasn't stupid. I knew that tone, and I understood what he wasn't saying. He suspected someone close by might be a threat. And with Osborn dead, there was only one explanation why Evan might believe that.

Someone had killed Osborn, but it was no enemy. Not one who had revealed himself as the enemy, anyway. It was someone close to us, someone who might even be in the Scarlet pack itself. Or someone within the reformed Dark Moon, even! Even if the pack had been... purged and repopulated, there was no guarantee everyone was loyal to Evan. This might not be an attack on Scarlet itself, after all. Maybe this was the beginning of a coup.

"I'm here," I panted after locking the door.

"Windows?"

"Locking them now."

"Stay on the phone with me."

The faint sounds running in the background of the call were mysterious. What was that fuzzy noise? I felt like I should know it, but...

"Evan?"

"I'm here."

"Is that machinery going on in the background?"

A small hesitation. "Yes."

"Are you... at a factory?"

He didn't answer this time, but by now I had figured it out. Those metallic noises weren't small- they were loud enough for me to hear over the phone, for one. Machinery! Gears! Was he at the manufacturing park near the warehouse district? There were three of them within Medea City, Dark Moon's territory, so there was no way for me to know which one specifically.

Wait. That map. I racked my brain, trying to drag up the recollection of every location Peelle had marked for special attention.

"Evan? Did you... Are you the one who found Osborn? Was his - his body in one of the factories?"

"You don't need to worry about it. Just stay on the line. Have you eaten?"

"You being dodgy is making me worry more!"

"I'm sorry."

"What's the point of being sorry! Evan, are you alone still? Are you with anyone?" My heart fluttered. Oh, no. Was he still by himself even now? He had told Peelle he would go alone, but surely he had called in other members of the pack by now-

"I'm fine, Claudia. I'm waiting outside. There were workers here who need to be evacuated first, and the machinery needs to be shut down. They're the ones who found him."

"Wait, you haven't actually see him? The - the body." I stumbled over the word, feeling horrible for being so callous, but I was in too much of a rush to get the words out. "How do you know it's him if you haven't seen it?"

"His hand is here. I followed the scent."

"His hand!"

"I found it nearby."

Hand.. severed hand! Hot bile burned my throat as I suppressed the instant nausea that rose upon realization. But that didn't mean Osborn was dead. Maybe they had hurt him badly, and most werewolves couldn't regenerate whole appendages, but that didn't mean they had killed him. Wasn't that what criminals sometimes did to hostages? Dark Moon used to be a criminal region decades ago, which explained the lingering illicit activity in some districts, and I knew a little from passing conversations in high school. Sometimes, to prove their evil intent and to warn their victims against retaliation, they would hurt their hostages.

Osborn could still be alive.

"You don't know for sure he's dead then," I said quietly. "You won't know until you see it with your own eyes. The factory workers might be wrong. And maybe it's not even him."

"It's him." His voice was more distant now, though no less rough. "When Peelle comes for you, he'll bring you to me. Don't tell anyone where you're going or when you're leaving. You need to move without anyone knowing, with no warning."

"Do you really think it's one of us? A traitor?"

"A traitor?" He sounded surprised, as if he hadn't expected me the word. Or maybe he hadn't expected me to piece together his suspicions. "Maybe. I don't know. Whatever it is, it's someone who's been watching him closely and knew exactly where he was going and that he would be alone. It could be anyone among the Dark Moon pack, or any of the extra troops I've stationed here to help with governing the area."

I clutched the phone tighter to my ear. Who could it be? There were so many werewolves all over this territory. And maybe he was wrong, and it was an outsider who'd simply been spying closely enough to figure out where Osborn was going, someone exacting enough to seem like it was someone on the inside...

But a traitor. A traitor - that was the most likely explanation, wasn't it? The Scarlet pack had so many enemies there were too many to name. Every pack the Scarlet had ever conquered, every pack the Scarlet had set its eyes on but had not yet fallen, every pack afraid of the growing power the pack gained every time it razed another to the ground. Evan had left so much bloodshed in his wake that there was too much of it concealing who might have been hiding under the surface, waiting for their chance to strike. The absorbed Dark Moon pack might be the first suspect, but the truth was, all the werewolves garrisoned here could be responsible. Every so-called 'sister pack' was really just a conquered former enemy. Who was to say they hadn't been planning this from the very beginning?

And now they finally retaliated.

What now?

What came next?

I pulled my knees up to my chest, chilled to the core.

***

"What's taking so long?"

The Delta was well-trained. He had the discipline to not flinch from Evan's snarl, although the slightest tightening of his face betrayed the reactive fear at his Alpha's anger. "Our apologies, Alpha. The workers who found the body were in such a panic that they spilled corrosive chemicals all over the area in their rush to get out. The fumes can be lethal if inhaled and there are live contaminants in the area too, so there's a fumigator team to kill those and a decontamination team to clean up after them." "Tell them to move faster." "Yes, sir."

A damn joke of an order. Evan knew he was being irrational. Just because he was furious didn't mean his rage could alter nature and physics. The 'lethal' fumes the Delta reported would move no faster just because he commanded them to. Osborn. Osborn was back there, nestled deep within the machinery of the factory that held his corpse. How had things come to this? Why had Osborn insisted on moving alone? Why had he come out here when he knew he was on to something, and that someone would retaliate?

Evan would never have allowed it if he had known the extent of the truth. He had put Osborn in this position because he was a man well-suited to it. Where had all that good sense gone? Why...

The last of the factory workers filed out of the neighboring structure. There was a disinfecting tent and emergency showers set up to decontaminate them, and one by one they entered the temporary facilities. Most of them looked away from Evan, all too aware of his presence as they nervously acquiesced to orders, but he sensed no guilt from them, only fear.

But they were the ones who had found Osborn's body. It was possible one of them was lying... or more than one. They could all be covering for each other. Evan clenched his fists as he glared at them, trying to read every micro-expression that might betray their truth.

Maybe he should imprison them all to be certain. Interrogation, t*****e, whatever it took. If hey were innocent, he would send them on their way. And if they weren't... It would come out, and he would wreak his vengeance upon them and whoever they worked with. Osborn. If only Evan had gotten here sooner. They had spoken just several days ago, and now he was dead?

Claudia's reassuring words floated through his thoughts, but she was wrong. This was Osborn's hand he held. He glanced down, glaring at the white-gray caste that had come over the severed appendage. The telltale tattoo of a red moon taunted him at the base of the wrist.

The Delta returned. "Alpha, we're ready."

Evan followed him in.