I Am His Wolfless Luna Chapter 163

Ethan's POV

"Uncle?" The word tasted foreign on my tongue, bitter and strange. My father had never once mentioned having a brother. I stared at the grainy photograph, studying somehow familiar angles of this stranger's face.

"This can't be right," I muttered, more to myself than to David. "My father would have told me if he had a brother."

David shifted uncomfortably, his usual stoic demeanor briefly cracking. "The intelligence is preliminary, sir, but the some resemblance is... striking."

I dropped the file onto the desk, running my hands through my hair as I paced the length of the command center. The implications were staggering. The man responsible for terrorizing our pack—for killing our warriors—might be my father's own blood. My blood.

"What else do we know about him?" I demanded, forcing myself to focus on facts rather than the storm of emotions threatening to overwhelm me.

David cleared his throat. "Victor Shadowclaw's first mate died years ago, cause unknown. Recently, he's reportedly taken a new mate—a woman described as beautiful, originally from a prominent pack." He hesitated before adding, "Her identity is being kept secret, but rumors suggest she's a high-ranking defector."

Something cold slithered down my spine at this information. A high-ranking defector... I pushed the uncomfortable thought away, unwilling to entertain it just yet.

"Investigate his mate," I ordered, my instincts screaming that this woman might be the key to understanding our enemy. "Get me everything you can. Names, descriptions, sightings—anything."

"Yes, Alpha," David replied with a sharp nod.

I glanced again at the photograph, studying the harsh lines of Victor's face. I needed truth.

"I need to speak with my grandmother," I said suddenly, decision crystallizing in my mind. If anyone would know about my father's secret brother, it would be her. "Continue the patrols and keep me updated on any developments. I want hourly reports."

The drive to my grandmother's sprawling residence in the heart of our territory gave me too much time to think. My knuckles turned white against the steering wheel as questions multiplied in my mind. Why would my father keep his brother's existence a secret? How deep did this family rift run? And why target our pack now, when my father lay dying?

My grandmother's house stood imposing and regal at the center of the pack. "Ethan." Her commanding voice reached me before I'd even knocked, the heavy oak door swinging open to reveal her formidable presence. Though time had softened her frame, it had done nothing to diminish the authority she carried. Her silver hair was pulled back in a perfect bun, her spine straight despite her advancing years, and her piercing eyes missed nothing as they swept over me. "I knew you'd come today. There's trouble written all over your face."

I followed her inside. The warmth of multiple hearths enveloped me, a stark contrast to the emotional chill that had settled in my bones.

"Grandmother," I began, accepting the steaming cup of tea she practically forced into my hands. Her remedies were legendary—and refusing them unthinkable. "I need to ask you about something important. About Father."

"Is he worse?" For just a moment, worry softened her stern features.

"Yes," I admitted, the word catching slightly. "But that's not why I'm here." I set the untouched tea on the side table and leaned forward. "Did Father have a brother?"

Her expression hardened instantly, lips pressing into a thin line as she straightened in her chair. "What nonsense are you speaking?" she said sharply, reaching for her own tea with hands that betrayed the slightest tremor. "Where did you hear such a thing?"

"Grandmother," I insisted, unwilling to back down despite her obvious displeasure. "I've seen evidence. A man named Victor Shadowclaw is leading the rogues attacking our borders. Intelligence suggests he might be related to us." I held her gaze steadily. "I need to know the truth. All of it."

A heavy silence settled between us as she studied me, weighing something in her mind. Finally, she set down her cup with a decisive click against the saucer.

"Very well," she said, her voice cooling several degrees. I tensed, preparing myself for whatever revelation was coming. My grandmother stood abruptly and walked to an ornate cabinet in the corner of the room. From a hidden drawer, she withdrew a small silver key and used it to unlock a compartment I'd never noticed before. She returned with a worn leather-bound book—what appeared to be a journal.

"Yes," she finally said, her voice holding a note of defeat I'd rarely heard from her. "Your father had a brother. Has a brother, I suppose, though we've not spoken his name in this house for decades."

The confirmation hit harder than I'd expected, despite having already suspected the truth. I waited as she opened the journal to reveal a faded photograph of two young men—my father's face unmistakable, and beside him, a slightly younger man with the same jawline and eyes that mirrored my own.

"They were as different as the sun and moon," she continued, her fingers hovering over the image before snapping the book shut as if she couldn't bear to look longer. "Your father was stubborn but honorable, with a strength built on discipline and principles. But Victor..." Her lips curled with distaste. "Victor was always looking for the easy path. In the fighting ring, he'd resort to underhanded tactics instead of earning victory honorably. Your grandfather and I tried everything to correct this behavior, but our efforts only deepened his resentment."

She rose again, pacing with agitation. "Eventually, we had no choice but to confine him, hoping solitude might inspire reflection." Her hands clenched at her sides. "Instead, it hardened his resolve. One night, he simply vanished."

"When was this?" I asked, trying to piece together a timeline.

"Nearly four decades ago," she replied, her eyes distant with memory. "At first, we believed he was merely throwing a tantrum and would return once his anger cooled. Days became weeks, then months." She stopped her pacing to face me directly. "He never came back. Then strange attacks began along our northern borders—coordinated, vicious. Rogues with no identified leader."

My stomach clenched. "Until Father's coronation as Alpha."

Her eyes narrowed, appreciating my quick understanding. "Precisely. On the very night your father was formally named Alpha, the rogues launched their most devastating attack yet. Your father fought like a man possessed, determined to capture their leader. When he finally tore away the mask..." Her voice faltered.

"It was Victor," I finished for her.

Her voice barely above a whisper. "They fought like beasts—both were gravely injured. Your father never fully recovered from those physical wounds, but I believe the emotional ones cut deeper." She returned to her chair, suddenly looking exhausted. "We never to speak Victor's name again from then on."

I sat in stunned silence, processing everything. It is true. My father really has a brother.

"Why now?" I asked quietly. "Why escalate attacks when Father is already dying?"

My grandmother's expression hardened again. "Some hatred burns so hot it cannot be quenched, even by time. Victor always envied what he couldn't have. Perhaps knowing your father's end approaches, he seeks to hasten it—to rob him of peace even in his final moments."

The buzzing of my phone jolted me from these dark thoughts. Glancing at the screen, I saw David's name. I excused myself and stepped outside to take the call, checking my watch as I did. With a start, I realized it was already past time to pick up Lucas from school. I'd need to ask David to help with that after this call.

"David, I was just about to call you," I began, planning to ask him to collect Lucas. "I need—"

"Has Aria returned home?" His urgent tone cut through my thoughts, immediately sending alarm bells ringing in my head.