MATED TO THE SECRET ALPHA-Chapter 250: Defending His Sister

Madam Katherine didn’t expect this, but she was elated. She folded her hands in front of her stomach, expression serene but sharp with satisfaction. Finally, Reana’s iron walls were cracking. Finally, the unshakable Luna would crumble under the weight of her own people’s discontent.

However, Karl was stunned. How did it get to this point? Almost everyone in the crowd was screaming for Reana to step down, calling her all sorts of names.

Even the warriors who returned from the Wastelands were equally baffled by the sudden fury that consumed the pack, as if they already had her in mind before now.

Warriors who had crawled their way out of the treacherous Wastelands, now stood dumbfounded as their people – mothers, brothers, sisters, mates, fathers – turned on the very woman who had kept their pack standing tall, protected, and feared in the Mainland.

One of the warriors, a burly man with frostbitten fingers and a jagged scar across his brow, stepped forward, shaking his head in disbelief. "This... this wasn’t what we came back for," he murmured. "You’re blaming her? Her? Luna Reana?"

Another, a younger warrior whose leg still bore the stiff limp of frostbite, spat at the ground. "You all are out of your minds! Even our dead comrades wouldn’t blame her!"

But their voices were drowned beneath the roiling tide of grief and resentment.

"She should be tried," someone screamed.

"Let the council decide!"

"No—no more councils! She should be stripped of her title now!"

"We want justice!"

Karl’s heart thudded in his chest. Not with rage. Not with grief. This was how he was then. Gullible, stupid, and easily led by emotion instead of truth.

This was how it had started the first time, when he turned on her over lies and misunderstandings his mother cooked. Now, he was watching the cycle repeat itself. Only this time, he was sober. He was a witness instead of a participant. And it horrified him.

"This is wrong," he whispered to himself, eyes darting across the raging crowd. "This is so wrong..."

He sprung forward, planting himself between Reana and the mob. "Listen to yourselves!" he roared, voice shaking but loud. "You sound like wolves begging for a witch burning!"

That had an effect. It silenced some and the noise died down a little. But it only lasted for a moment before they erupted again.

And that’s when he saw it. The pattern. Their outrage wasn’t spontaneous. It was fed. Their words were too sharp, their timing too perfect. This wasn’t grief. This was manipulated rage.

His gaze turned sharply towards his mother. "You," he breathed, horror in his eyes. "You did this." It was his mother’s way.

Except this time, Katherine was truly innocent. "Me? I didn’t speak a word." She was grieving and couldn’t even leave the bed for days. So, where would she have the energy to spread dissent, let alone orchestrate something so wide and venomous?

But even Katherine looked surprised now, too surprised. That realization twisted something in Karl’s gut.

If not her... then who?

Katherine stepped forward, her poise now laced with honest confusion. "Karl," she said gently, "I swear to you, this wasn’t me. I’ve lost just as much as they have. Do you think I would spend my mourning days poisoning minds?"

He wanted to believe her. For the last time, he needed to believe her. But the fire had already started. The pack was tearing itself apart from the inside and someone had lit the match.

Karl looked back at Reana. She hadn’t spoken. Not a word. She stood there, shoulders square, head high, but her eyes... they were hollow. Tired.

Not defeated. Never that.

But exhausted in a way only those who carried too many lives on their back could be.

Her people were her weakness. She loved them like a mother loved their children. Only them could make or break her, and right now, they were doing just that.

Karl turned back to the pack. "Have you all gone mad?" he barked. "She kept this territory alive through three winters of drought, two assassination attempts, and an all-out war in the north! She buried children, protected elders, fed families when half of you were too cowardly to lift a spear! And now – now, when your grief needs a target, you throw it at her?"

Silence finally fell over the crowd, but their eyes still held hostility.

"You talk about the Crimson Caravan like you know a thing!" He shouted. "Those monsters stole what they brought to us. They raided, plundered, killed, and raped innocent humans and stole their harvest, brought them to us to boast like heroes. And Reana? She unknowingly protected this pack. You. Me. Your children! And now–now– you call her a traitor?"

His voice echoed across the courtyard, breathless and raw with fury.

"I was there," Karl spat, eyes sweeping over the crowd. "I saw them in the Southern Islands—saw how the Dark Snow members dragged them across the ground in chains, like animals. Beaten. Cut open. Dead. Spat on. They were dragged around, naked until their skins peeled off to their bones. Their heads were cut off and thrown around by pups for fun!"

Shiver ran through, not only his spine but of those listening. His voice cracked with terror as the scene replayed in his mind. He heard the Dark Snow Members were supervillains, but that day, he finally understood what that meant. That day, he saw it.

The Dark Snow members, who were being talked about, like they weren’t there, smirked. The Black Moon Pack members standing close to them moved. They fled from them in fright.

"Their pups danced on skinned corpses." Karl continued. "The humans among them carried out experiments on the leader of the caravan. They tore him apart piece by piece while he was still breathing!" he choked in revulsion. "They fed the flesh of their enemies to their beasts."

Gasps rang out.

"The Crimson Caravan screamed the names of our patronizers’ even before a whip landed on them. They shouted out our pack’s name, claiming they sold part of the stolen supplies to us."