The Mad Alpha's Substitute Bride-Chapter 61: Somebody Knew

(LOCKE)

The woman I brought from the Eastern Kingdom and gave the title of queen to was a gentle and submissive woman. She had my heart in her fist, although neither of us knew it at the time. My instinct was to shield her and protect her. She was fragile and delicate. She needed to be taken care of.

The woman who is now raising my son and who doesn’t lower her gaze when meeting mine doesn’t need protection. She stands by my side as an equal. Her anger is sharp, swift, and deadly. She has overcome every obstacle to become the woman she is today. She is a fine queen and a wonderful mother.

The one thing that hasn’t changed is her heart. It is still kind.

I didn’t expect Corrine to forgive me so fast. I expected her to hold on to her grudge. By the time I understood the extent of the damage to her, I had already realized that it would take quite a while for her to look at me and see her mate, not the man who hurt her.

Sigrid told me that it would take a long time, and I fully expected to wait years. Not days.

Corrine’s tongue is sharper now, but I like it. Sigrid told me to get to know her again, which is what I intend to do, but seeing her talk and smile with another man makes my wolf uneasy. If she wore my mark, perhaps I would not feel so worried.

She has thanked me for loving her. She has agreed to come back to the North with me. But she hasn’t told me how she feels about me. If I knew the depth of her feelings for me, it would be easier to navigate the situation. And if I could stop feeling guilty about the fact that she’s leaving behind this whole life that she has built, it would help us both move on.

I’m willing to give her anything she wants. But a part of me still feels that the only reason she’s making the sacrifice and returning to the North is our son.

When we hear the screams and Corrine grabs me, telling me to look after Finn, my first instinct is to protect her. Something is clearly wrong, and she’s heading straight toward the danger instead of away from it.

But then she pushes me away as if she doesn’t need my help. As if she doesn’t need me.

I watch her run, my chest tightening with an odd emotion.

Fortunately, the Ferris wheel comes to a stop right then. As Derrick and Finn get off, I pick up my son and thrust him into Derrick’s arms, ordering, "Follow me and do not put him down."

Sensing the urgency of the situation, my right-hand man runs after me.

There is a crowd of people gathered at the other end of the carnival. I shove past them, smelling blood. I’m just in time to catch Corrine before she falls to the ground, a keening sound leaving her lips.

There is a dead human in front of her, the same one she was talking to earlier. People are looking our way, and since I don’t think she would want the human authorities to involve her in their investigation, I drag her away. She’s limp, not resisting.

"We have to leave," I tell Derrick.

He nods, glancing at Corrine. We came here in her car, but now we head to the woods. It’ll be faster this way. I don’t tell Corrine to shift because she’s in shock. As my own wolf form emerges, I throw her onto my back and begin running. Derrick whispers something to Finn before putting him down, and they both shift. I don’t know how long it will take us to reach the house, but my fur is already wet with my mate’s tears, and I can feel her grief.

Who was this man who was so important to Corrine? He looked older than her, but not so old that they could not be romantically entangled. Did Corrine share her affections with someone? She never said she had any lover. But if she did, why would she bring me to the place where she was meeting him? She’s not that inconsiderate.

I move faster, fueled by my anger and hurt. I want to ask her, but I can still feel her body vibrating with sobs, her sorrow thick in the air. My wolf is miserable, torn in two directions: anger at the idea that she might have taken a lover in these past eight years and helplessness in the face of her pain.

We reach the woods near her house, and I shift back. "Derrick, take Finn inside."

I’m holding Corrine in my arms. She tries to lower herself to the ground, but my grip on her tightens.

Finn is also aware of his mother’s strange behavior, and as soon as he shifts forms, he shakes his head. "I’m not going anywhere. Mom?"

His voice seems to shake something loose inside of my mate because she pushes against my chest, her voice low and thick. "Let me down, Locke." Reluctantly, I release her, and she reaches into her bag, taking out a key. "Go with Derrick, Finn. We’ll be right there."

My son’s reluctance to leave his mother at a time when he clearly knows she’s vulnerable fills me with pride, but it’s also evident to me that Corrine doesn’t want him here for this conversation.

"Why don’t you show Derrick how to make hot chocolate?" She smiles at Finn with some obvious difficulty. "I would really like a cup."

Having been assigned a task gives Finn some motivation. His voice is brighter now, the worry and fear disappearing. "I can do that. Come on, Derrick!"

He grabs Derrick and pulls him along as they head toward the house. I wait till they’re out of earshot before I look at Corrine. Her arms are wrapped around herself as she walks over to a broken log and sits down heavily on it.

I wait for her to speak, and finally, she says, "I’m sorry about that."

Her voice is rough, and if I had any lingering anger over my suspicions about her relationship with that human, it would fade away in the face of her agony.

"Who was that, Corrine? He was clearly important to you. Were you two...?" I lean against the nearest tree, watching her.

She appears to realize where I was going with that, and she shakes her head. "No. George wasn’t—We weren’t—" She lets out a sigh, the devastation on her face twisting something in my chest. "He was my contact in the police department. He was a human, but he knew about Finn and me. I never told Erik or anyone else about him."

I frown. "Why not?"

I smell the salt before the tears slip down her cheeks. "Erik would have killed him. George was high up in the government, the deputy commissioner of the police. He was in a position where he could have potentially exposed our kind, but this entire time, he never said a word. In fact, he helped me with some of my cases. "She wipes her tears and gazes at the ground. Her voice is low. "But Erik would not have understood. George and I were friends. He has two sons. A wife who loves him deeply. And he would not have died like this if I had not called him tonight."

Her words end on a broken sob as she covers her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking.

Guilt, I realize. She feels both grief for the loss of her friend and guilt about his death. I walk over and crouch by her side. "You had no way of knowing, Corrine. His death had nothing to do with you."

She lowers her hands and looks at me, her pretty eyes swimming in tears. "You didn’t see it, did you?"

"See what?" I ask, confused.

"His slit neck," she moans. "There wasn’t one slice, like from a knife, but five, like a set of claws."

I go still. "Are you—"

"Five very precise claw marks." She looks at me, and the devastation in her eyes has my jaw hardening.

"A shifter? But I didn’t smell any—"

"Neither did I." She wipes her tears, her voice thick. "And we should have, right? I didn’t even smell anyone on him. I don’t know how they hid their scent, but it was definitely a shifter. No one had any reason to hurt him, Locke. No one from our world, at least."

"Someone did," I murmur gloomily. "We must have been followed."