Page 164 of Dead Girls Don’t Forget

“Everything,” I repeated. “What I am. What I’ve done. What I plan to do.”

Silence.

Brian studied Jackson with flat, assessing eyes.

“You understand what she is,” he said, voice calm but edged. “What she’s planning. And you’re still here.”

Jackson met his stare without flinching. “She’s my mate. I knew what I was choosing. If it comes down to her or the pack, I choose her. Every time. I have no father anymore. Only her.”

Brian studied him for a long moment, then gave a single, sharp nod.

“Good. Because if you ever waver, I will remove you myself.”

The threat was calm. Absolute. Jackson didn’t blink.

I moved on before the tension could settle. I placed the laptop on the desk and turned it toward him.

“We found things.”

I showed him the files with the children. Brian’s face didn’t change much when he saw it, but I saw the flicker in his eyes — the same cold fury I felt.

“I’ll handle that,” he said. “You two stay clear of it.”

Then I opened the folder with the investigator payments. Nineteen years of searching. Dead ends. No trace.

Jackson’s voice was low. “This started right after Alpha Christopher died. Right after Noah disappeared. Thomas has been hunting him this whole time.”

Brian leaned back in his chair, eyes narrowing.

“If he’s been looking for nineteen years, it means the boy is likely still alive. And as the rightful heir, he’s a direct threat to Thomas’s power.”

I nodded. “We need you to run your own search. Try to reach Noah first. Before Thomas does.”

Brian was quiet for a long moment. Then he gave a single, decisive nod.

“I’ll start digging. This is going to take time.”

Janet had already made up the guest room. We stayed the night with the quiet understanding that the real war had just begun. Brian would work in the background while we kept moving forward on our end.

The warmth of the evening still lingered on my skin as I lay next to Jackson in the dark, but it felt like borrowed time.

The storm was coming.

And we were ready to meet it.

Chapter 45: The Beginning of the End

Over the next month, we tore through everything we’d taken from Thomas.

Night after night we sat at the desk, cross-referencing financial records with the footage from the hidden cameras Jackson had planted. The deeper we dug, the clearer the rot became.

Thomas didn’t sit idle either.

Two wolves had started tailing Jackson almost immediately. They sat outside our apartment some nights, watching the windows. Other times they followed him when he left for runs or errands, never close enough to touch him, but always there.

Jackson confronted them once in the parking lot. They claimed they were there for his “protection.”

When he went to Thomas about it, his father had smiled that thin, cold smile and said the same thing. Protection. Especially now that the Crescent Peak alliance had fallen through.