Alpha's Dark Desires
Chapter 107: Crappy Answers

Chapter 107: Crappy Answers

Elena POV:

Before I could even process the implication of his words, the real Kane’s eyes widened in horror. The second Kane smirked wider, clearly relishing the chaos he was stirring up. Meanwhile, my Kane—the real Kane—froze, his expression shifting from fury to dawning realization. It was as if he’d finally pieced together what had caused this entire mess.

"Elena," he started, stepping toward me cautiously, like I was a skittish animal about to bolt.

"Stop," I snapped, holding up a hand. My chest felt tight, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Are you telling me this whole thing was because you—" I pointed at the second Kane, glaring daggers—"are the one who was screwing around with Ashley?"

The second Kane laughed, a low, mocking sound that made me want to throw something at him. "Guilty as charged, sweetheart."

I turned back to my Kane, my hands trembling with a mixture of rage and betrayal. "And you didn’t think to tell me that there was another version of you running around doing... whatever the hell he wants?"

"I didn’t think—" he started, his voice strained.

"No," I cut him off, my voice rising. "You didn’t think. You didn’t warn me. You just let me walk into this blind, and now—" I gestured between the two of them, my voice cracking—"this!"

"I didn’t know he was going to—" Kane tried to explain, his eyes pleading.

"Does it matter?" I shouted, my anger spilling over. "He looks like you! Do you know how that felt? Do you even understand how completely—" I stopped, my voice choking on the words.

Kane reached for me, his expression desperate. "Elena, please. I swear, I didn’t—"

I took a step back, holding up my hand to stop him. "I don’t want to hear it right now." My voice was ice. "Figure this out. Fix it. And when you do, maybe I’ll be ready to talk. But until then..." I turned on my heel and started walking away.

The second Kane’s laugh echoed behind me. "Ouch. Tough break, buddy."

"Shut the hell up," my Kane growled, his voice thick with restrained fury.

I didn’t look back. Let them sort out their mess. I had enough of my own to deal with.

I was just about to storm off, leaving Kane and his twisted doppelgänger to sort out their dickness, when Kane’s voice cut through the tension.

"Let’s get out of here," he said, his tone commanding and leaving no room for argument.

Before I could protest, his hand was on my arm, firm but not forceful, guiding me toward his car. The sheer authority in his voice and the fire still burning in his eyes silenced whatever sharp retort was on the tip of my tongue.

As we reached the car, he opened the door for me. I hesitated, looking at him, really looking at him, trying to figure out if this was my Kane or...the other one. But the frustration in his eyes, the faint, almost imperceptible pleading beneath his anger—that was mine.

Sliding into the passenger seat, I crossed my arms and stared out the window as he got in on the driver’s side. He didn’t say a word as he started the car, and I didn’t either.

I didn’t know how to feel.

Relief coursed through me that it hadn’t been my Kane with Ashley. That much was clear now. But the relief was drowned by a rising tide of anger, confusion, and a sickening feeling of betrayal.

How could he not have told me? How could he keep something like this—like him—from me?

I turned to look at him as he drove, his jaw clenched, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were white.

My mind raced with questions.

If there was another him out there—a version that looked like him, smelled like him, sounded like him—how was I supposed to trust him? How was I supposed to ever look at him and know it was really him?

The memory of the other Kane’s—Dean’s—smirk sent a shiver down my spine. He was cruel, predatory, like a shadowy reflection of Kane’s worst instincts.

And Kane had kept this from me.

I let out a frustrated sigh, crossing my legs and leaning back into the seat.

"You could’ve told me, Kane," I finally said, my voice breaking the tense silence in the car.

"I know," he said, his voice gruff.

"That’s it?" I snapped, turning to glare at him. "You know? That’s all you have to say?"

His grip on the wheel tightened, but he didn’t look at me. "I didn’t want you to worry," he said after a moment. "Or get hurt."

"Get hurt?" I scoffed, incredulous. "Kane, I thought you cheated on me. I thought you threw everything we had away for Ashley. Do you have any idea what that felt like?"

His jaw tightened further, and I could see the muscles in his neck straining.

"I never wanted this for you," he said quietly.

"Well, congratulations," I said bitterly, turning back to stare out the window. "It happened anyway."

The rest of the drive was suffocatingly silent.

But my thoughts were anything but quiet.

If this was what being with Kane meant, if this was the kind of chaos that came with loving him, then I wasn’t sure how much more I could take.

And the worst part?

I wasn’t even sure if the man driving this car was the real Kane.

And that realization cut deeper than anything else.

By the time we reached the house—if I could even call it that anymore—it didn’t feel like home. Not after everything that had just happened.

I threw open the car door, stepping out with all the force my frustration could muster, making sure to slam it behind me. The sound echoed in the stillness of the night, sharp and angry.

"Elena," Kane called after me as he got out of the car.

"What?" I snapped, spinning around to face him. My tone was clipped, my patience long gone.

"I hope the going-around-kissing-jerks episode is over," he said, his voice laced with irritation and something deeper, something raw.

My eyes narrowed, my blood boiling all over again. "Yeah, it would be," I shot back, my tone dripping with venom, "the moment you tell me why and how exactly something with your scent and your face is running around wreaking havoc." I folded my arms across my chest, glaring at him.

"And while you’re at it," I continued, my voice rising, "why don’t you tell me how the hell I’m supposed to know who’s who? How am I supposed to trust that it’s you standing in front of me?"

Kane froze, his expression shifting from frustration to something closer to guilt.

For a split second, he looked away, as if he couldn’t meet my gaze. And that was all the confirmation I needed.

"You should have told me," I said, my voice quieter now but no less furious. "You don’t get to keep secrets like that, Kane. Not from me. Not when it could..." My voice cracked slightly, and I hated it. "Not when it could destroy everything."

"Elena," he began, stepping closer, his hands held out like he was trying to placate a wild animal.

I stepped back, keeping the distance between us. "No," I said firmly. "Not until you explain. Not until you make me understand how this is even possible."

The man I loved, the man I thought I knew, looked utterly defeated. And yet, there was still so much he wasn’t saying.

I didn’t know if I had the energy—or the heart—to drag it out of him.

What the actual hell was Kane hiding from me?

We’d promised each other we’d be better—more open, more honest. To actually try and make this relationship work. But how was I supposed to trust him when he wouldn’t tell me what the hell was going on?

I paced in front of the house, my arms crossed tightly over my chest, trying to make sense of everything.

They couldn’t be twins. I knew that much. Even if they looked the same, talked the same, and moved the same, there was no way they’d have the same scent. That wasn’t how it worked. A wolf’s scent was unique, a signature that couldn’t be duplicated or faked.

But if they weren’t twins, then what the hell were they?

Dean had called him "brother," but that word felt wrong—forced. And the way Kane reacted to Dean, the pure hatred radiating off him, made it crystal clear that whatever bond they might’ve once shared, it was long gone.

So why?

Why did Kane hate Dean so much?

And why couldn’t he just tell me the truth?

I stopped pacing and looked back at the car, where Kane stood leaning against the hood, his head down, his hands buried in his hair. He looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, but that didn’t make me feel any better. If anything, it pissed me off even more.

I needed answers. I needed honest answers.

I stormed over to him, my frustration boiling over. "Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on, Kane?" I demanded, my voice sharp and unwavering.

He didn’t look up.

"Kane!" I snapped. "This—whatever this is—it doesn’t make sense! You don’t get to keep me in the dark when I’m the one caught in the middle of your mess!"

Finally, he raised his head, his expression torn between anger and something I couldn’t quite place.

"I’m trying to protect you," he said, his voice low.

I laughed bitterly, the sound hollow even to my own ears. "Protect me? From what? From you? Because that’s what it feels like, Kane. Like you’re the one I need protection from."

He flinched, and for a moment, I thought I might’ve gone too far. But then he straightened up, his jaw tightening.

"I hate him because he’s everything I don’t want to be," he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "And because no matter how hard I try to bury him, he always comes back."

I stared at him, my heart pounding in my chest. What the hell did that even mean?

And more importantly... what did that mean for us?

Still not giving me answers just stupid riddles I stomp into the house.

"Took you long enough " Kane huh Dean said opening the door before i could unlock it.