Into the Alpha’s Keep Chapter 62: 62

Fenrir was drowning in a mix of emotions that left me stunned. I stepped away, focusing on the dinner I was preparing.

He picked up the half-empty bottle of whiskey from the coffee table and refilled his glass before reclining back on the couch and returning to his previous position.

"It’s been a long, long time since I felt like this," he confessed in a whisper.

For a moment, I thought he was talking to himself or thinking out loud. I looked at him, finding his troubled blue eyes fixed on me.

"Like what?" I asked, pouring the chopped tomatoes into a pan and mixing them with the onions.

He brought the glass to his lips, taking another sip of the alcohol.

"Desperate." He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "I felt your pain, I knew you were in danger. It wasn’t like before—it was worse. I felt the weakness, death approaching. I felt absolutely everything."

I let out an exasperated sigh.

"I’m sorry, but it’ll always be like this, at least as long as Hunter is alive. Your life is at risk—"

"That’s not what I meant," he interrupted, a bit harshly. I blinked, confused. "Yes, I feared for myself and my pack. But above all, I feared for your life."

I opened and closed my mouth, stunned.

"What?"

He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated.

"I haven’t felt this way since..." His voice faltered. "Since Catalina," he revealed.

It was the first time he said her name out loud in front of me. All I knew about the she-wolf were rumors and gossip shared by his close friends.

I bit the inside of my cheeks, trying to hold my tongue and avoid asking questions that weren’t my business. I managed to stay silent for five seconds before gathering the courage to address the subject that had been strictly forbidden until now.

"What happened to her?" I heard myself ask, my voice louder than the pounding of my heart.

I waited for his outburst. I stayed quiet, anticipating some free humiliation or a fit of anger, but he did nothing.

"She was killed," he spat bitterly.

I already knew that, but I wanted the full story—all the details of what had happened.

"By whom?" I pressed, feigning disinterest.

I stirred the ground beef in the pan as if my life depended on it, completely absorbed. It was already done, but I couldn’t stop.

I needed something to focus on to avoid looking at him.

"By a male. An alpha who became obsessed with her."

I frowned and finally lifted my face to look at him. He was watching me intently, following every movement I made, alert.

"I don’t even know what to say," I murmured.

It was true. Alpha Caspian had killed his own wife after discovering she had been my father’s lover. But that had been an isolated incident years ago.

Catalina had been Fenrir’s predestined mate, even though they hadn’t bonded. A male killing the alpha’s wife had to be the worst crime. He must have been insane.

"He fell in love with Catalina, thought she belonged to him—that she was his perfect mate," he continued, giving me the context of the story I so badly wanted to know without me having to ask too much. "When she rejected him, he killed her. Slashed her throat with his claws by the lake before trying to run."

Perfect mate? Was he crazy? If Catalina was Fenrir’s bride, the leader of the Dăneşti pack, how could he have thought she was his mate?

The smell of burnt meat wafted through the air. I quickly pulled the pan off the stove and began filling cabbage leaves, ignoring the fact that my food wouldn’t turn out as good as I’d hoped—not with such a heavy topic flowing.

"Did you find him?" I asked without looking at him, focused on my task.

"I found him and killed him," he stated resolutely.

"Did he say anything?"

He shook his head.

"He didn’t have time before I tore his throat out."

I took a deep breath, a little shocked by the story and all the brutality it carried.

"Then how do you know he killed Catalina out of obsession?"

He drank the rest of his whiskey before continuing.

"Marilyn and Catalina were like sisters. The male had already started making advances toward her. Catalina knew my temper, knew exactly what I was capable of if I found out about his interest, so she never told me anything. The truth only came out after he killed her. Marilyn was forced to tell me everything."

I finished filling the cabbage leaves and began folding them, arranging them in a glass dish. I shot a quick glance at Fenrir, who had returned to gazing at the trees. He seemed... drunk.

"I’m sorry this happened," I murmured, though I didn’t truly feel that way, no matter how awful it made me.

My wolf had a very dominant instinct over him. If Catalina were alive, she would have been a problem for both of us. Besides, I hated Marilyn and knew Catalina was just as... unpleasant. If Marilyn died, I wouldn’t care.

"After that, all wolves were forbidden to wander between territories. The elders created laws to prevent it, except in their territory, which is considered neutral." He pulled the bottle and drank straight from it. "The gatherings are so predestined mates can meet."

I already knew that, but I wanted to hear his explanation, especially since his and Catalina’s story seemed to be the starting point of it all.

"And if they’re from different packs, what happens?" I asked.

"The female goes to the male’s pack and becomes part of it."

It made sense. I would have become an Eclipse wolf if I’d married Hunter, leaving behind my Twilight wolf status, just as I did when I bonded with Fenrir, becoming a Dăneşti.

"So... the wolf who killed Catalina wasn’t a Dăneşti?"

He shook his head.

"He belonged to Lucian’s territory. He was a Lazar," he said, rubbing his face. "Lucian didn’t know, just like I didn’t. But the elders knew we’d go to war if nothing was done about what happened, so they made the laws to maintain peace."

Now it all made sense. We were allowed to visit the Eclipse pack, just as they could visit the Twilight one. The only restriction was leaving the territory without the alpha’s consent or abandoning the village, as Selena and I had done, making us traitors.

Strangely, I wasn’t interested in the reasons behind these rules. I had no desire to visit other packs, especially after what I’d discovered about each alpha. I already had enough psychopaths in my life with Hunter and Fenrir.

"Was this before the wedding?"

He drank more whiskey.

"A few weeks before."

I licked my lips and regulated my breathing, trying to calm my nerves. I needed more answers. I had countless questions but was afraid of his reaction.

"The desperation you felt... Did you think I was dead?"

He fixed his alcohol-clouded eyes on me.

"I knew you were in bad shape, that you’d die if you weren’t healed quickly. The desperation was the same—or even worse—than when I found Catalina with her throat torn out."

"But... if it wasn’t fear of dying, then what was it?" I stammered.

He let out a bitter laugh.

"One of the feelings was the fear of failing again, as a male and as an alpha. My job is to protect you, keep you safe—not just as your leader but as your bonded partner. And for a second, I thought I’d failed a second time, that I’d go through all of that again." He pressed his lips into a grimace. "Then came another feeling, something sharper and deeper. That you’d die."

"And you too."

"My own life didn’t worry me for a single second," he admitted, looking at me.

That strange sensation settled again, enveloping us. It was warm, comforting, and tangible.

I cleared my throat, turning my attention back to the food.

I finished rolling the cabbage leaves and poured tomato sauce over them. I inhaled, absorbing the scent of basil and fresh food. My stomach growled, springing to life.

I wanted to ask more about Catalina, to get the full story, but I feared he’d retreat if I pushed too far. Fenrir was opening up slowly, and I respected his pace.

I walked around the counter and placed the dish on the table. I arranged everything with the utmost care before turning to him.

"Dinner’s ready," I announced, intertwining my fingers in front of me.

Fenrir stood up. Despite his drunken state, his movements were deliberate, as if nothing affected him. He approached me, glanced at the set table, then looked back at me.

"You did it again?" he asked, surprised.

"I’m just thanking you for saving my life."