Claimed by the Wrong Alphas
Chapter 25: Where it hurts...

Chapter 25: Where it hurts...

Charis

"Don’t say that to me, Slater. You don’t get a reward for loving someone just because they have a deformity. You had a chance to reject me, I gave you that chance when I found out we were fated mates, and you chose to accept me. It was your choice."

"Then how can you stand there and accuse me of cheating. I had a thousand women lined up, begging for a chance to become my friend, but I chose you." A tear rolled down his cheek. "How can you turn around and say I cheated? That I broke the essence of our mate bond and went to be with another woman. Where? How?"

I swallowed back the tears that had gathered at the back of my throat. "Behind your pack house. You held her and hugged her, then kissed her on the forehead. You were so tender with her, so gentle. The way you used to be with me. "

His brows creased in a frown. "And you said it was during the Harvest Moon Festival, last year?"

I nodded.

He ran a hand repeatedly through his hair for several seconds until he stopped and stared at me.

"Shit..." he scoffed. "That was my sister, Riley. Yes, that was the night before she left for school. She didn’t join in the celebration because she didn’t want to deal with the people and stuff. Also, she would be travelling the next day back to school. She was my sister, Charis."

"What?" I said, shaking my head in denial. This couldn’t be right. I’d been so sure of what I’d seen.

I also knew he had a sister.

"Her name’s Riley. You never met her because she didn’t go to school at Duskveil. She was visiting for a break and left early the next morning to return to school. She was going through a rough time, and I was comforting her."

I shook my head, unable to speak.

He didn’t wait for me to process the whole situation further. He just strode across the room and picked up his phone from his reading table. He opened it and scrolled through it for several seconds before he turned and held the screen out to me.

On the phone, a girl with the same striking green eyes as Slater stared back at me, smiling brightly at the camera.

Her hair was a beautiful golden blonde that caught the light waves, and her facial structure bore an unmistakable resemblance to Slater’s—the same strong jawline, the same elegant nose, the exact dimple that Slater only ever got when he smirked. She even had the same warm smile that had once made my heart race.

He swiped to the next picture, and it showed Riley standing next to him with their arms linked in a sibling-like pose. She leaned into him, though she was smiling, I could see sadness in her eyes.

I felt my breath catch. The girl I had seen that night... though I hadn’t gotten a proper look at her face because it had been buried against Slater’s shoulder, everything fit. The height, the profile...it all matched

I swallowed hard.

Slater pocketed the phone without another word.

"I can’t believe you thought I would cheat on you," he said quietly, walking to his closet and pulling out a shirt. "After everything we meant to each other."

When he returned, he was pulling a black shirt over his head, his expression unreadable.

"Slater, I..." I began.

"What do you want to say, Charis?" He stopped me before I could speak. "If I had seen you with a man. Do you know what I would do? I would walk up to you and find out who he is or confront you immediately about it, but you did none of that, and yet you had the guts to judge me for a crime I never committed."

I felt my anger and hurt crumbling beneath me, leaving me feeling foolish and confused.

He started walking towards the door.

"Where are you going?" I asked desperately.

He paused with his hand on the doorknob, without turning to face me. "I can’t bear to be in the same room with you right now," he said, his voice was cold and distant. "You saw me show affection to my sister and immediately assumed the worst about me when I never gave you any reason to feel that way. What does that say about what you thought of our relationship?"

"I didn’t know what to think!" I cried. "You sent me that text. You said you wanted to live your life, that you didn’t want to be shackled with the baby. There were even pictures. You and her—"

He finally turned, his eyes dark and unreadable. "And did you ever once ask me if that text came from me?"

I went still.

He didn’t wait for a response; he opened the door and left, slamming it shut behind him.

I dropped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as a thousand emotions washed over me. Part of me felt relieved —grateful beyond measure that Slater hadn’t cheated on me, that the man I’d loved so deeply hadn’t betrayed my trust.

However, I also have other evidence. The text messages, the pictures that had been attached —images of him with what appeared to be a romantic partner, looking happy and free.

If he hadn’t sent the message, who would have? The pictures? Was it all a lie?"

I wished desperately that I had my phone now to show Slater those messages. Maybe seeing them would help him understand why I’d jumped to the conclusions I had.

Sighing heavily, I adjusted myself on the bed and pulled the covers over my body. As I shifted position, my hand accidentally brushed against the scar on my stomach—a thin, raised line that served as a permanent reminder of one of the darkest periods of my life.

The scar was a reminder of just how much my life had spiraled after i broke off my engagement with Slater and rejected him. It was how broken I’d become when I heard he had supposedly died. How close I’d come to giving up entirely.

I shuddered at the memories and forced myself to push them back down where they belonged—buried deep where they couldn’t hurt me anymore.

Closing my eyes, I tried to will myself to sleep, but my mind kept racing. The confrontation with Slater had revealed new layers to our complicated history.

But the question was, if he hadn’t been cheating, then what had those text messages from him been about? Who was the woman in the photos? And why had he let everyone believe he was dead?

There were still so many unanswered questions, but for now, I was too emotionally drained to try to solve them.

I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my thoughts to still.

Sleep, I told myself—just sleep.