The Alpha's Exiled Mate Chapter 92

Third POV

Olivia waited until Thorne's car had disappeared down the long driveway before closing the door. Her practiced smile faded as she turned to Kaelin.

"Well?" she asked, her tone crisp with expectation.

Kaelin allowed herself a genuine smile, no longer needing to maintain the demure façade she'd worn all evening. "It's done. The binding ceremony will be at the next full moon."

Olivia clasped her hands together. "Excellent! Your father will be pleased. Did Alexander Grey seem supportive?"

"Completely," Kaelin assured her, handing her wrap to Jenkins, their elderly house steward. "It was his idea to set a date. Father barely had to push."

They walked toward the east wing sitting room, Kaelin's heels clicking on the marble floors. The effects of the wine she'd consumed were already fading—she'd been careful to drink just enough to appear slightly vulnerable, but not enough to actually impair her judgment.

"And did Thorne seem... committed?" Olivia asked, her voice holding a note of concern. "You know how he can be."

Kaelin considered the question. Thorne had agreed, but there had been a reservation in him she couldn't quite identify. His wolf had been oddly subdued throughout the entire discussion.

"He's committed," she said firmly. "An Alpha doesn't go back on his word, especially not one announced in front of his father and future in-laws."

Olivia nodded, seemingly satisfied as they entered the sitting room. "Your treatments are working well? No episodes recently?"

"None," Kaelin confirmed. "The doctor says the new medication has stabilized the hormone fluctuations. I should be able to maintain control through the ceremony and beyond."

"Good." Olivia poured herself a small glass of brandy from the crystal decanter. "We can't afford any... incidents... especially now."

Kaelin sat on the velvet settee, removing her uncomfortable heels with a sigh of relief. "Has there been any news about the Riley girl? Is she still at Grey Estate?"

Mother's expression tightened. "Your father says she is, though Thorne has apparently removed several staff members who treated her poorly. Odd behavior, considering her bloodline."

Kaelin kept her expression neutral despite the anger flaring within her. Freya Riley should have remained in exile where she belonged. Her return was an inconvenience she hadn't anticipated—one that threatened everything she'd worked for.

"I need to check something," she said, pulling out her phone. She sent a quick message to Lucy, the Beta maid she'd placed in Grey Estate months ago as her eyes and ears.

[Any update on the Riley exile?]

The response came quickly: [Still here. Working on some design. Attached is a photo I took when she wasn't looking.]

The image showed Freya hunched over a sketchbook, drawing what appeared to be a tribal moon design—intricate and beautiful, much to Kaelin's annoyance. She was creating something for the Silverstone Pack ceremony competition. Kaelin recognized the distinctive style immediately.

She typed quickly: [I need the complete design when it's finished. Keep watching her.]

Lucy's reply was immediate: [Yes, Miss.]

Kaelin set her phone down, a plan forming in her mind. If Freya was designing for Jasper Stone's pack ceremony, that could be exactly what she needed to finally be rid of her. Thorne despised Stone and would view any collaboration as betrayal.

"Everything alright, dear?" Olivia asked, noticing her prolonged silence.

Kaelin looked up, her lips curving into a smile as her eyes flashed gold with anticipation. "Everything is perfect, Mother. Soon, the Riley girl won't be a problem anymore."

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Freya's POV

I sat in the main hall, my fingers working methodically on the tribal design I'd been sketching. The estate was quiet with most of the staff retired for the evening. Only Thomas remained nearby, polishing the antique silver display case that housed generations of Grey family ceremonial items.

My wolf paced anxiously within me, alert to every sound that might signal Thorne's return. I told myself I was waiting only to change his bandages—the silver-inflicted wound on his arm needed regular treatment to heal properly. But deep down, both my wolf and I knew there was more to it.

"He won't help us find our family", my wolf whined softly. "We need to leave this place."

"Patience," I whispered to myself, adding another curve to the moon symbol in my design.

The distant sound of tires on gravel made my ears prick forward. Thomas didn't notice, but my enhanced hearing caught the sound of a car approaching. Thorne was back. My heart quickened its pace, and I forced myself to continue sketching, to appear casual and unconcerned.

The front door opened, and his scent hit me immediately—pine and winter air, undercut with a sharp note of tension. Mark followed behind him, carrying Thorne's briefcase.

Thorne's gaze found me instantly, as if he'd known exactly where I would be sitting. His eyes narrowed slightly, and the full force of his Alpha presence washed over me—cold and distant.

"You should be resting," he said, his voice flat.

I set my sketchbook aside. "I'm feeling much better, Alpha. Dr. Maloy said the infection has cleared."

His jaw tightened at the mention of my condition. Without another word, he turned and headed up the grand staircase toward his study.

Mark paused beside me. "He had a long meeting with his father tonight," he said quietly, his tone suggesting this explained Thorne's mood. "I'd leave the bandage changing for tomorrow."

I nodded, but once Mark had departed, I gathered my supplies—the herbal paste Martha had helped me prepare, fresh bandages, and antiseptic—and made my way upstairs. My wolf urged caution, but I pushed forward. If I was going to ask for permission to leave, I needed to speak with him tonight.

The door to his study was ajar, warm light spilling into the hallway. I knocked softly.

"Enter," came his clipped response.

Thorne stood by the window, his jacket discarded, shirtsleeves rolled up to reveal the bandaged forearm. He didn't turn as I entered.

"I brought fresh dressings for your arm," I said, keeping my voice neutral.

He remained silent for so long I thought he might order me to leave. Finally, he turned. "Fine."

I approached carefully, setting my supplies on his desk. He sat in his chair, extending his arm with reluctance. The gesture reminded me of a wolf showing its belly—a rare moment of vulnerability from an Alpha.

I unwrapped the old bandage slowly, revealing the angry red line where the silver blade had cut him. The wound was healing, but silver injuries always took longer, even for an Alpha. I remembered how he'd received it—protecting me from Cole Raine's attack, stepping between us without hesitation.

"This is looking better," I said softly. "The infection is receding."

As I applied the herbal paste, my fingers accidentally pressed too hard against the tender flesh. Thorne inhaled sharply, his eyes flashing from brown to brilliant gold—the wolf rising close to the surface.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, gentling my touch.

"It's fine," he said through gritted teeth.

I worked in silence after that, carefully spreading the medicine and wrapping fresh bandages around his arm. When I finished, I gathered my courage and spoke.

"Alpha Thorne," I said softly, focusing on arranging the medical supplies neatly on his desk. "May I ask something?"

His golden eyes fixed on me. "What is it?"

I hesitated, choosing my words carefully. "I was wondering if... if there was any other reason you still require my presence at Grey Estate."

I kept my eyes lowered, adding in a quieter voice, "I've been thinking about my family lately. If any of them might have survived exile, or returned undetected. I just... I don't understand what purpose I still serve here."

The question hung in the air between us - not a direct request to leave, but a gentle probe to understand why he continued to keep me when my usefulness appeared to have ended.

Thorne didn't respond. His face remained impassive, but I could sense his wolf stirring beneath the surface, a subtle shift in his scent that I couldn't quite interpret.

"I wouldn't want to overstay my welcome," I added when the silence grew too heavy. "I know what my name means to your pack. To your family."

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "Don't speak of leaving again." His voice was low, controlled, but carried the unmistakable weight of an Alpha command.

I swallowed hard, confusion washing over me. "I'm sorry, Alpha. I didn't mean to overstep."

I gathered my medical supplies with shaking hands, bowing my head in deference as I backed toward the door.

As I reached the doorway, I paused, unable to help myself. "I appreciate everything you've done for me, despite my... heritage. Not many Alphas would have shown such mercy to a Riley."

Without waiting for a response, I slipped out, closing the door behind me. My chest felt hollow as I made my way back to my attic room, my wolf whining softly within me.