Chapter 6
Kathryn’s Point of View
For a few seconds, Ashton didn’t move. It was as if his mind couldn’t fully process. what I had just told him. He blinked twice, his lips parted, but no words came out. Then I saw it–tears silently rolling down his face.
With deliberate care, I closed the chest and placed it back in the closet, suppressing the storm of emotions surging through me.
I turned to leave the room, but before I could take another step, Ashton grabbed me aggressively, yanking me back toward him. His hand collided with my cheek in a sharp slap. Then he grabbed my hair, forcing me to face him.
“This is bullshit, Kathryn! Bryan isn’t dead! You’re just hiding him from me!” He roared, his voice trembling with anger.
It was absurd, watching him act as if he
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cared now. Where was this pain and concern when Bryan was still alive–when he needed his father’s love and attention the most?
The kid had endured so much sadness and suffering, longing for a father who never showed up for him.
“I wish that were the truth, Ashton,” I said, my voice eerily calm. “But it isn’t.”
His grip on my hair tightened, the sharp pull making my scalp hurt. Then came another slap.
Tears still streamed down his face, but they didn’t soften his cruelty. Was this how he processed pain? By transferring it to me- physically?
“No! I refuse to believe you!” He shouted, his voice full of rage and denial. His glare burned through me as he yanked my hair again, pulling me along as he stormed toward the stairs.
“You’re coming to the infirmary with me,”
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He growled, dragging me behind him. “We’re talking to Bryan’s personal healer. I’m not letting you fool me with this bullshit!”
Ashton left me no room to protest.
He forced me into his car, slamming the door shut before speeding recklessly through the dark, quiet streets.
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After just a few minutes of driving, we reached the infirmary. Ashton stormed out of the car and dragged me along by my arm. He didn’t care if pack members saw his behavior or how much it hurt me.
We moved through halls, past wards, and through endless corridors until we finally stopped in front of Healer Zaida–Bryan’s personal healer. She stood frozen for a moment, startled by Ashton’s forceful entrance and the fire blazing in his eyes.
At last, Ashton let go of me. He drew in a deep breath, glaring at Zaida.
“I don’t want to hear another lie, Zaida,” He
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spat, his voice cutting through the tense air. “Where is Bryan? And why is Kathryn hiding him from me?”
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Zaida’s expression shifted to one of discomfort. She glanced at me, hesitating,
so I gave her the slightest nod, signaling it’s fine for her to talk.
“How come you still don’t know?” Healer Zaida asked with indifference.
Ashton didn’t say anything, so Healer Zaida continued. “Your son, Bryan, has already passed away. It’s been a week, Ashton.”
“Why are you lying to me too, Zaida?!” He growled.
“I’m telling the truth,” Zaida responded, handing Ashton Bryan’s last medical report. “Everything is stated in that folder, Ashton. Take your time reading it.” With that, Healer Zaida walked away, as she still needed to tend to other important infirmary duties.
As soon as Healer Zaida was out of sight,
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Ashton aggressively threw Bryan’s medical report into the air and lunged for my neck, grabbing it tightly with his hand.
I choked, struggling for air.
At that moment, I felt like he could kill me.
Other pack members witnessed the scene, but seeing Ashton’s fury, no one dared to intervene.
After a long while, he finally let me go. I collapsed to the floor, panting. I thought it was over–but I was wrong. Ashton kicked. me repeatedly, on my thighs, legs, stomach.
Then, he yanked me back up, forcing me to stand before him. His hand lashed out again, slapping me–five times, I think. I lost count after the second.
Blood trickled from my lips, and my body was battered, bruised, and aching from the relentless beating. But I didn’t flinch. I stood there, accepting each blow, each ounce of his rage.
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“You killed Bryan!” He roared, his words. cutting deeper than his blows. He slapped me again, as if trying to drive the
accusation into me. “You didn’t care about him! Maybe you stopped caring because you knew you couldn’t use him to get my attention or sympathy anymore. Maybe because you saw him as nothing but a burden now!”
“How dare you say that? You know nothing about what we’ve been through!” I snapped, my voice trembling with anger.
Without thinking, I slapped him hard. But I didn’t stop there. I followed it with a sharp. kick to his groin, sending him to his knees
in agony.
I knew he was drowning in regret, denial, and anger, hurling all his pain at me. But no matter what he felt, I wouldn’t let him
blame me for Bryan’s death. That was a line I wouldn’t allow him to cross.
Before I could even catch my breath, he staggered to his feet, his face contorted in
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rage. Without a word, he grabbed me roughly by the arm and dragged me into the infirmary lobby, where several pack members lingered.
“Everyone! I need your attention!” He bellowed, his voice echoing in the tense silence. Heads turned, and conversations hushed. Once the room’s focus was entirely on him, he continued. “I want you to remember the face of this she–wolf!”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd, whispers like needles pricking at my ears.
“Isn’t she just an Omega?”
“I thought she was his mate.”
“She was his mate. But Ashton has an affair
with her sister, Tiana.”
“Well, can you blame him? Tiana’s a real
catch.”
“They’ve got a son, though, don’t they?”
The voices blended into judgment, pity, and cruelty, so I just shut them out.
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“This she–wolf killed her son! She’s a
murderer! She-”
I cut him off with a loud yell. “Asshole! Shut up!”
He froze, clearly taken aback.
The pack members fell silent too.
I stood my ground, forcing myself to defend what little dignity I had left.
“Now listen to me!” I began, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “I didn’t kill our son–this loser right here did! Bryan was diagnosed with Blue Blood Disease, and this idiot never even visited him! Do you want to know why? Because he was too busy caressing, kissing, and having sex with my sister! But wait, there’s something even worse.” I turned my glare on Ashton, who was now visibly panicking.
“Shut up-”
“When Bryan needed a blood donation, he intentionally gave his blood three weeks
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late! Because of that carelessness, our son’s condition deteriorated, and soon after, he died.”
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, and even Ashton looked shocked.
“What the fuck?” He exclaimed, his confusion apparent. “I gave my blood the same day you asked for it. What the hell are you talking about-”
I silenced him with another slap, then turned and ran, refusing to look back.
I didn’t want to hear any of his excuses. Nothing he said could change the truth.
Bryan is gone, and no one can bring him back into my arms.
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