99 Times He Left Me Mid-Moon for a Fake Omega – The 100th? I Marked His Rival Alpha Chapter 23
Nobody knew I was alive.
Dorian made sure of that. He scrubbed every record of that night clean.
Warren “vanished.”
The mining camp was leveled-bulldozed into dirt and ash like it never existed.
I was taken to the Pack Medical Center on Ravenswood territory to recover. Victor and Eloise came with me. Dorian didn’t like it-he blamed them for raising the bastard who sold me out-but I still called them Mom and Dad, so he let them stay. Gave them the best rooms. The best doctors.
Two weeks later, I could walk again. Barely.
That’s when Dorian placed a folder in front of me.
“Whiteshadow Pack’s a mess,” he said. “Ronan’s been busy.”
I flipped it open.
Ronan had announced that Victor and Eloise were “too grief-stricken” over my death to function. Said they were bedridden. Unfit to lead. So naturally as the devoted heir, he’d stepped up to run things.
And tomorrow? He was throwing himself a party. A big one. Officially declaring himself Alpha.
I smirked. “He’s not wasting any time, is he?”
Dorian handed me a glass of water. “Say the word, and I’ll bury him tonight.”
“No.”
I set the glass down.
“I want him at the top. I want him to think he’s won. I want him standing on that podium with everyone watching-and then I want him to fall.”
Dorian’s eyes gleamed. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. Fine. Do it your way. I’ll back you up.”
The banquet hall at Whiteshadow Pack was packed.
Elders. Allies. Representatives from half the packs on the east coast.
Ronan stood on the stage in a custom black suit, looking every bit the grieving heir. Behind him, a massive screen cycled through black-and-white photos of me. In Loving Memory.
“Honored guests,” Ronan began, his voice heavy with fake emotion. “My sister’s death has devastated our family. My parents… they can’t even get out of bed. So as the eldest, I have no choice but to step up and lead.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. A few elders nodded approvingly.
Ronan’s mouth twitched into the faintest smile.
“So without further delay, I hereby-”
BANG.
The doors exploded open.
Everyone jumped.
Armed guards flooded in, locking down every exit.
Then Dorian walked in.
And behind him? Me.
In a wheelchair. Leg still in a cast, Scars barely covered by makeup. But dressed in a blood-red gown that made me look like I’d crawled straight out of hell.
The microphone slipped from Ronan’s hand and hit the floor with a screech.
His face went white.
“Thalia?”
“Hey, brother.” I rolled forward. “Miss me?”
The hall erupted.
“She’s alive!”
“Oh my God-Miss Thalia!”
Ronan’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. Then the mask snapped back into place. Always did.
His expression flipped. Shock. Relief. Joy.
He rushed toward me, arms open.
“Thalia! You’re okay! Thank God, I thought-”
One of Dorian’s guards stepped in. Grabbed Ronan’s wrist. Twisted.
Crack.
Ronan screamed and dropped to his knees.
“Get the fuck off me! Who the hell do you think you are?!”
I rolled right up to him and looked down.
“Who are we?” I pulled out my phone. “Let me show you.”
I nodded to one of the guards. He plugged my phone into the projection system.
My memorial photos disappeared.
And the real show began.
