Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by his Brother
Chapter 199: _ RIP

Chapter 199: _ RIP

Luis Miguel’s gaze dropped back to the remnants of the flesh and bones before him. He picked up a torn piece of fabric, clutching it to his chest and rocking slightly as fresh sobs wracked his frame.

Whoever did this... whoever cut the boys into so many pieces and stripped their flesh from their bones was going to live the rest of their lives hating me.

The forest seemed to mourn with Luis Miguel, the rustling leaves whispering condolences and the distant calls of birds now somber notes in the dirge of sorrow.

I stood, turning to Teo. "Secure the area. Gather every piece of evidence. We need answers."

Teo nodded abruptly. "Understood, Beta."

As his men set to work, I remained by Luis Miguel’s side.

"We are grieved, yes. But we need to notify their families and conduct a thorough investigation, Teo." I put forward, sniffing back the tears building inside of me.

Teo nodded, already pulling out his phone to make the necessary calls.​

Getting to the bottom of this was paramount. But for now, there were families to console, questions to answer, and a pack that needed reassurance. The burden of leadership bore down on me, but I welcomed it. I would not let this tragedy break us.​

As we turned to leave, Luis Miguel’s voice broke the silence.​

"Beta Axel, we have to find out who did this. For them."​ He croaked, tone surprisingly steady despite the tears streaming down his face.

I met his gaze. "We will," I promised. "No matter what it takes."

We left the clearing with our shoulders heavy and our hearts a little... or maybe big time shattered. Luis Miguel moved like a ghost beside me, his footsteps sluggish, as if each step away from the bodies took another chunk out of him.

The forest, which had earlier buzzed with life, now felt eerily still. Even the birds had gone silent, probably out of respect... or fear.

The only sound one could hear was the crunch of dead leaves beneath our boots and the occasional hiccup Luis Miguel let out as he tried to get control over the sobs that wouldn’t stop strangling him.

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. His face was pale as the trails of dried tears made jagged rivers down his cheeks. He still held onto the torn piece of fabric like it was a life raft keeping him from drowning.

"This is going to cause an uproar in the pack," I said softly, breaking the silence.

Luis Miguel sniffled and nodded, his throat working around whatever lump was stuck in it. "They didn’t deserve that. They didn’t deserve to go like that. They were just—kids. Stupid, funny, loyal little shits."

I almost smiled. Almost. "You forgot ’loud’ and ’insufferable.’ Especially Gonzalo. That kid could talk a corpse back to life."

Luis Miguel gave a small, broken chuckle. "Remember when we tried to convince you to let us into the packhouse

"You boys could barely let out a single word," I replied, smirking faintly.

That smirk faded quickly though, replaced by a tight, bitter knot in my chest. Because now all of that... every stupid prank, every inside joke, every dumb dare was just going to be a memory.

There were no more mischievous kids ravaging the pack square. No more late-night runs to steal cookies from the vendors. No more plans, no more dreams.

We reached the pack vehicles parked along the muddy trail. I opened the door for him, watching as he hesitated.

"Luis," I said, pausing to make sure he was listening, "Pack security might need to ask you some questions. About the last time you saw them. Their plans. Whether they were acting strange before they disappeared."

Luis Miguel froze. "You think they might think I’m a suspect?"

"No, no. No one’s saying that," I reassured quickly, but I could see the panic rising in his eyes like a tide. "But listen. You were one of the last people to see them. And that matters. Don’t let fear keep you from being honest, alright? You’ve got nothing to hide."

"I don’t know, Axel," he mumbled, his voice shaking again. "What if someone tries to pin it on me? You saw what was left of them. There’s no way to prove who did it. And I’m not exactly Mr. Popular for a good reason around here."

"Well, for starters," I said, closing the car door behind him and getting in on the driver’s side, "you’ve got María José as an alibi. You two were in Santa Leticia that night, weren’t you?"

Luis nodded slowly, though he looked unsure. "Yeah. If I hadn’t stayed back with her, I might have suffered the same fate. But... I don’t want to drag her into this."

"You’re not dragging her into anything. She’s part of the timeline, not a co-conspirator," I said, starting the engine. "Plus, she probably has a better memory than you. You looked like you hadn’t slept in days."

He gave me a half-hearted glare. "I hadn’t. Pedro stole my blanket last time he crashed at my place and kept it for two weeks."

"Bastard," I muttered. "Crimes like that should come with jail time."

Luis Miguel’s lips twitched, and for a second—just a second... he looked like he might laugh again. But then he looked out the window, the shadows of the trees slipping past us, and the silence grew heavy once more.

After a while, I spoke again. "Look, once the autopsy is done, what little can be done, anyway—we’ll have something. Maybe a cause of death, maybe traces of magic, anything we can work with. We’re not flying blind. We just... we have to be patient."

Luis Miguel’s fingers tapped anxiously on his knee. "What kind of monster does that to someone, Beta Axel?"

I didn’t have an answer. Not a satisfying one, at least. So instead I said, "A very stupid one. Because whoever it is? They left a trail. And we’re going to follow it until it ends in blood."

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