The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 259

Freya's POV

My fingers trembled as I reached for the file, flipping it open to reveal pages of handwritten testimony. Derek's sloppy handwriting detailed how Kaelin had approached him shortly after I'd started spending time with Thorne. She'd offered him money and her body in exchange for finding a way to "ruin" me.

"He claims he failed that first time," Thorne said quietly. "You were with me most days then, if you remember."

I did remember. Those weeks before everything fell apart, when I'd foolishly believed Thorne might actually care for me. I'd spent every free moment near him, trailing after him like a lovesick pup.

"So I escaped being assaulted because I was following you around like a shadow?" The realization sent a chill through me. Had I been just minutes or hours away from a fate I'd never even suspected?

Thorne's jaw tightened. "Yes. And when that plan failed, Kaelin created a new one."

I continued reading, my stomach turning as Derek described Kaelin's second plan—to deliberately provoke me into attacking her. He wrote about how she carefully orchestrated the confrontation in a public place, saying things she knew would trigger my wolf, then used her moon phase syndrome to appear more severely traumatized than she actually was."

"She didn't need to fabricate an attack," Thorne added, his voice tight with realization. "She manipulated you into genuinely attacking her, which is why the evidence was so convincing. She counted on your temper and made sure there were witnesses."

I set the file down, unable to read more. My wolf howled inside me, enraged at the deception that had cost us so much. I walked to the wall of evidence, studying the connections Thorne had mapped out.

"There's more," I said, not a question but a certainty.

"Yes." Thorne moved to stand beside me. "Both kidnappings—the recent one and the one from three years ago that Kaelin claimed you orchestrated—Derek admits they were both orchestrated by Kaelin."

Just then, Thorne's phone rang. He glanced at the screen, then answered it, putting it on speaker.

"Alpha, it's Mark. We've recovered the communications between Kaelin and Derek as you requested."

"And?" Thorne's voice was tense.

"It's... conclusive, sir. We found messages, photos of them together, and explicit discussions about Miss Riley. Kaelin referred to her as 'the wolf pup in the way' and mentioned 'getting rid of the obstacle permanently.'"

Thorne's expression darkened. "Send the files to my secure terminal. Now."

Moments later, one of the screens on the wall lit up, displaying a series of messages and images. I approached slowly, my heart pounding as I read the exchanges between Kaelin and Derek.

[That Riley bitch is getting too close to him. She needs to learn her place.]

[Don't worry, I'll make sure she never comes near your Alpha again.]

[I want that wolf pup gone. Permanently.]

Accompanying the messages were photos—Kaelin and Derek in intimate embraces, looking nothing like kidnapper and victim. In one, Kaelin was laughing as she leaned against Derek's chest, her hand possessively on his arm. In another, they appeared to be in a hotel room, partially clothed.

My stomach lurched at the sight of them plotting against me so casually, so cruelly. I turned away from the screen, unable to look anymore.

"She hated me that much?" My voice sounded strange to my own ears. "Why? What had I ever done to her?"

Thorne switched off the screen. "You existed. You were near me. That was enough." He paused, then added, "And you were a Riley. I believe there's more to this than just jealousy."

I looked up at him, suddenly exhausted. "What do you mean?"

"I don't have all the pieces yet," Thorne admitted. "But the special treatment you received at Silver Shackle Prison wasn't random. Edward Brooks authorized it personally. And then there's the connection between the Brooks and Riley families that predates all of this."

"What connection?" I asked, my mind racing through childhood memories, trying to recall any mention of the Brooks family.

"That's what I'm still working to uncover," Thorne said. "We need more evidence, especially about what happened at Silver Shackle Prison."

He moved back to his desk, picking up another file. "That's why I've sent Mark to locate Carter Wells, the former head guard at the prison. He would have been the one to administer the silver treatments."

The name sent a jolt through me. Carter Wells. His face appeared in my mind immediately—cold eyes, thin lips always curved in a cruel smile as he pressed silver against my skin.

"Carter," I whispered, my damaged hand throbbing with phantom pain. "Yes, it was him. He was the one who used the silver on me."

My voice dropped even lower, memories flooding back that I'd tried so hard to suppress. "He would tell me that it was 'special orders from above.' That I deserved special attention for what I'd done to the Brooks girl."

Thorne's expression hardened. "Did he ever mention Edward Brooks by name?"

I closed my eyes, trying to recall the exact words. "Not directly, but... there was one time. He received a call during a treatment session. He answered with 'Yes, Commander Brooks.' And after that, the treatments became more frequent."

Thorne nodded, making a note in the file. "This helps. Mark should be able to locate Wells within the next day or two. His testimony could be crucial."

I stood there in the center of the evidence of a conspiracy against me, feeling oddly hollow. I should have felt triumphant, vindicated. Instead, I just felt tired. Three years of my life had been stolen because of a lie, and no amount of evidence could give that back to me.

"What happens now?" I asked.

"Now I build an airtight case," Thorne replied. "Once I have Wells' testimony and a few other pieces of evidence, I'll present it to the Council. Kaelin and everyone involved will face justice."

Justice. The word seemed inadequate compared to what I'd lost.

We left the office, walking through the quiet, echoing halls of the Moon Crescent Court. The building felt different at night—less intimidating, more melancholy.

"Let me take you back to Martha's," Thorne offered as we approached the exit.

I shook my head. "I need some time. To process all this."

Thorne's eyes reflected concern. "Let me at least arrange for a Delta escort to—"

"I'm not your responsibility, Thorne," I interrupted, suddenly needing distance from him, from all of this.

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression softening into something that made my chest ache.

"From now on, you are," he said quietly, the simple statement carrying a weight I wasn't ready to examine.