Bonded to My Ex's Alpha Brother Chapter 229

Erin's POV

Mya's usually perfect face was streaked with mascara, her shoulders trembling as she clutched at Derek's arm. The room had fallen into a tense silence, everyone's eyes fixed on the unfolding drama.

"Is Alexander," Mya said intermittently, "who forced me to enter the private room. I told him I didn't want to go anywhere. But he said if I didn't go in, it meant I wanted to leave with him." Her voice cracked. "To get rid of him, I went inside, only to find Bradley there. He looked drunk, and then he..."

She broke down completely, unable to finish her sentence. The implication hung heavy in the air. My stomach twisted with nausea, a sickening mixture of pain for Mya and disgust toward Alexander. The man I had once trusted enough to nearly bind myself to. The thought made bile rise in my throat.

"Brother," Bradley stepped forward, his voice hoarse. His face was pale, his usual confident demeanor completely shattered. "I swear I was drunk. You know I can hold my liquor well, but my body was burning up, and I felt thirsty. Someone must have put something in my drink."

Derek's expression remained unreadable as his gaze shifted between his brother and Mya.

"This isn't the first time," Derek said quietly, his voice carrying despite its softness. He turned to Charlie. "I will handle this properly." Then he addressed the room: "I'll announce my decision tomorrow. Take care of Mya."

With that, he turned and walked away, his shoulders tight with barely contained rage. The crowd parted for him like water before a shark. I watched him disappear down the hallway, uncertain whether to follow.

Before I could decide, Judy approached me, her expression pained and desperate. She looked nothing like the proud, haughty woman who had treated me with such disdain before.

"Please..." she began, her voice strained as if the words physically hurt her. "Please help Bradley. As you heard, this isn't his fault." She swallowed hard. "For the sake of your past relationship with him, please speak to Derek on his behalf."

I stared at her in disbelief. How selfish could she be? Only approaching me when she needed something, after all the contempt she'd shown. A bitter laugh nearly escaped my lips.

"I'll try to speak with your elder son about this," I replied, keeping my voice controlled. "In the meantime, please look after Mya. She needs everyone's support right now."

Without waiting for her response, I turned and headed upstairs to our bedroom. I needed to collect my thoughts before confronting Derek. I knew from experience that his calm exterior masked a storm of rage that would need to be carefully navigated.

---

In our bedroom, my mind raced as I applied minimal makeup. I had to find Derek, but what would I say? The accusation against Alexander didn't surprise me—I'd learned enough about his true nature—but seeing Mya so broken had shaken me. What if Alexander had targeted me in the same way? The thought sent a shiver down my spine.

When I descended the stairs, the main areas of the estate were oddly quiet. Most people had dispersed, likely discussing the scandal in hushed tones throughout the property. I spotted Mark standing near the entrance to the east wing.

"Mark," I called, approaching him. "Where is Derek?"

The Delta straightened when he saw me, giving a slight nod of respect. "He's in the training area, Luna. Alone." His expression grew concerned. "He told everyone to leave him be."

I nodded my thanks and headed toward the training area. Derek's desire for solitude didn't apply to me—not anymore. If I was truly going to be his Luna, his equal partner, I couldn't be shut out when things got difficult.

The training area occupied the east wing—a state-of-the-art facility with equipment designed to challenge even the strongest werewolves. As I descended the stairs, I heard the rhythmic sound of impacts, like someone repeatedly hitting a punching bag.

What I found was far more disturbing.

Derek stood shirtless, wearing only training pants, his muscular back glistening with sweat despite the room's cool temperature. He was repeatedly striking the concrete wall with his bare fists.

Blood smeared the gray surface where his knuckles had split open only to heal and split again. The sight made my heart clench.

"Stop it!" I rushed forward, grabbing his arm mid-swing. "What are you doing?"

He yanked his arm from my grasp with such force that I stumbled backward. When he turned to face me, his eyes burned with golden fury.

"Don't do that again," he growled. His chest heaved with exertion, and I noticed ugly bruising forming on his forearms where he'd struck the wall repeatedly. Though werewolves healed quickly, continuous trauma could still leave temporary marks.

"This isn't your concern," he added, turning away.

The dismissal stung, but I refused to be pushed aside. "I'm your Luna," I said firmly. "This is my concern."

"Leave me alone." He moved toward the water cooler in the corner, his back to me again.

I felt my own anger rising to match his. This pattern of pushing me away when things got difficult had to stop. We'd never move forward if he kept building walls between us.

"Look at me," I demanded. When he ignored me, continuing to pour water into a cup, I felt something shift inside me. The familiar warmth spread behind my eyes, and I knew they had changed to amber—my wolf rising to the surface.

"Look at me, Derek."

Something in my tone made him pause. He turned slowly, his eyes widening slightly when he saw mine. For a moment, he seemed transfixed, as if my wolf's eyes had somehow caught him in their grip.

"What kind of game are you playing?" I asked, stepping closer. "You can't just pull me close, tell me you love me, and then push me away whenever you want to. I'm your mate and your wife." My voice grew stronger with each word. "Even if you want me gone, I will never leave your side."

His jaw tightened. "I need to be alone right now."

As he tried to move past me, I noticed the still-healing scar on his chest—the mark left by the dart I'd stabbed him with months ago. The sight of it sparked an idea.

"Fine, if you need to vent your anger," I said, moving to block his path, "let's fight. You don't know how much stronger I've become this past year, do you? You can let out your frustration by sparring with me."

He scoffed. "I'm not going to fight you, Erin."

"Afraid I might win?" I taunted, dropping into a fighting stance.

His eyes narrowed, a flicker of interest crossing his face. "You're serious."