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Ethan was Shot
Ethan was Shot
(Olivia’s POV)
I sat at a booth by the window at The Sovereign’s Table, checking my watch for the third time
in five minutes. The mysterious caller who claimed to know Matthew’s secrets was already twenty minutes late.
A tall shadow fell across my table. I looked up to see Caelan Mooncrest standing there, his pale features twisted in what he probably thought was a charming smile.
“Check, please,” I called to the waiter, raising my hand.
Caelan pressed his palm down on the bill before the waiter could reach it. “From now on, Miss Blackwood’s meals at this restaurant are complimentary.”
I stood immediately, unwilling to get entangled with him. “That won’t be necessary.”
Before I could take a step, another figure blocked my path. Morgana Mooncrest stood there, her eyes filled with undisguised contempt.
“Come with me,” she ordered, her voice sharp as broken glass.
I found myself trapped between mother and son, both radiating hostility. The other diners
were starting to stare.
“Fine,” I said coldly. “But make it quick.”
Inside the private room, Morgana wasted no time on pleasantries. “You orchestrated my granddaughter’s detention, didn’t you? Cynthia is being held by the pack authorities in
connection with that hacker case.”
“Your granddaughter made her own choices,” I replied evenly.
Morgana’s face flushed with rage. “Did you treat your own granddaughter with the same harshness? Oh wait, you don’t have one. But I suppose you know all about abandoning family, just like your mother.”
The mention of my mother made my blood run cold. “What did you say?”
“Lyra Blackwood,” Morgana spat. “That unfilial daughter who almost ruined the Mooncrest pack by running away from her arranged mating.”
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This confirmed part of Ethan’s story, but something felt wrong. “When did this happen?”
“Thirty–five years ago,” Morgana said with venom.
My heart stopped. Thirty–five years ago? But Ethan had said thirty. A five–year discrepancy.
Morgana reached into her purse and pulled out a small device. “I have something you want. The projection code for Lyra. I’ll give it to you in exchange for Cynthia’s release.”
I stared at the device, then pulled out the photograph Ethan had given me. As I looked closer
at the image, my blood turned to ice.
There were marks on my mother’s arm. Thin, parallel lines that could only be whip marks.
“Did my mother ever return to the Mooncrest pack?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
Morgana’s laugh was cruel and bitter. “Return? That ungrateful wretch never came back. She
died outside our territory, and good riddance.”
The casual cruelty in her voice made me sick. I stood abruptly, shoving the photograph back
into my pocket.
“Keep your deal,” I said, disgusted. “I want nothing from you.”
I stormed out of the private room, my mind racing. The five–year discrepancy, the whip marks, Morgana’s hatred – something was terribly wrong with Ethan’s story.
I had to find him. I had to demand answers.
(Third–person POV)
In the dark, rain–soaked alley near The Sovereign’s Table, Ethan Moonstone held a silver–loaded gun to Tasha’s head. Rain dripped from his dark hair as he pressed the barrel
against her temple.
“Please,” Tasha whispered, her voice shaking with terror. “Remember, our target is Olivia. I
hate her for stealing Matthew Kane from me.”
Ethan’s face twisted with disgust. “For a man?” he sneered. “You’re cheap and vicious.”
Tasha’s eyes widened in confusion. “But you said-”
“Do you know who she is?” Ethan’s voice was deadly quiet. “She’s the only person I care about in this world. The person I love the most.”
His finger tightened on the trigger, but before he could fire, cold metal pressed against the
back of his skull.
“Hello, son.”
Ethan’s blood turned to ice. He knew that voice.
“Father,” he said without turning around.
Faelan Moonstone stepped closer, his own gun steady. “You betrayed us. You intentionally
left clues for Matthew Kane to uncover and destroy the Moonstone pack.”
Ethan laughed, the sound bitter and broken. “Betrayed you? You want to talk about betrayal?”
He turned slowly, facing the man who had raised him. “Let me tell you about betrayal, Father.
You captured my mother. You imprisoned her. You r***d her for five years.”
Faelan’s expression didn’t change. “She was given to me as a gift.”
“And your mate Annelise whipped her every night for five years while I watched,” Ethan
continued, his voice rising. “You made me from violence and hatred. You transplanted a rogue wolf heart into my chest because I was born broken.”
“You were weak,” Faelan said coldly.
“I was your victim!” Ethan screamed. “Just like she was!”
The gunshot echoed through the alley like thunder.
Silver burned through Ethan’s chest, and he collapsed to the wet pavement. Blood mixed with rainwater, creating dark rivers that flowed toward the storm drains.
As his life ebbed away, memories flashed before his eyes. The nightmares of his mother’s screams. The transplanted wolf heart that never felt like his own. The years of training to
become a weapon.
His last thought was of Olivia. At least he hadn’t dragged her into his abyss.
At least she would never know the truth about what he really was.
(Third–person POV)
Olivia heard the gunshot from inside the restaurant. Something deep in her enhanced senses pulled her toward the sound, an inexplicable compulsion she couldn’t ignore.
She ran through the rain, her heels clicking against wet pavement. When she reached the alley, it was empty except for a pool of blood being washed away by the downpour.
“Miss, did you see anything?” A pack authority officer approached her, notepad in hand.
“I heard a gunshot,” she said, staring at the blood. “But when I got here, there was nothing.”
As she gave her statement, she saw Matthew Kane standing in the rain across the street. He
looked breathless, upset that she hadn’t called him through their mate bond.
He approached slowly, his hand extended toward her. She reached for it but somehow
missed, their fingers barely brushing.
Without a word, he handed her his umbrella. But instead of getting into his armored vehicle,
she ran to her own car.
She had to find Ethan. She had to know the truth.
The Royal Infirmary was nearly empty at this hour. Olivia rushed to Ethan’s room, but it was
vacant. The bed was made, as if no one had ever been there.
“Excuse me,” she called to a passing nurse. “The patient in room 314?”
“He was discharged this afternoon,” the nurse replied. “But he left a contact number.”
Olivia dialed with shaking fingers. A woman’s voice answered on the second ring.
“Hello?”
“I’m looking for Ethan Moonstone,” Olivia said.
“This is his mother. Ethan has gone abroad for a confidential mission. He won’t be reachable
for some time.”
The line went dead.
Olivia stared at her phone, confusion and dread warring in her chest. She heard footsteps in
the corridor – the distinctive sound of Matthew’s approach, his Alpha presence filling the
space.
She quickly hung up and turned to face him.
(Third–person POV)
Matthew saw Olivia standing there, soaked and trembling. Her clothes clung to her body, and
her hair was plastered to her skull from the rain.
He assumed she had rushed here for Theodore Redgrave. The thought made his jaw clench
with barely controlled fury.
Without a word, he swept her into his arms with supernatural strength. She was lighter than
air in his grasp, fragile and precious.
He carried her to his car, then back to their home, and finally into the bathroom. He placed her gently in the tub and turned on the hot water, steam rising around them.
He reached to help her out of her wet clothes, but she caught his wrist.
Tears began to fall then, ‘pat, pat, pat‘ against the porcelain.
Matthew gripped her face in his hands, his Alpha fury barely contained as he lowered his
voice to a dangerous whisper.
“Don’t cry.”
