Claimed by My Ex's Half-Brother-Chapter 168 No one has said anything

Victoria’s POV

"Victoria, I think you’re misunderstanding me," Patrick murmured, his voice dropping, tinged with a slight tremor. "Or has someone been saying things to you? It feels like there’s a... chasm growing between us."

I shook my head, my golden hair brushing my shoulders. Nora, my white wolf, stirred restlessly within me. Even she seemed uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation.

"No one has said anything," I replied, my voice firm. "If I’ve misunderstood you, then I apologize, Patrick. I’ve always considered you a good neighbor and a good friend, ever since we were children. I’m glad you see me as a friend too, but that’s all we can ever be."

"But I don’t *want* to be just your friend," Patrick insisted, the air around him thickening with his rising anxiety. My wolf instincts picked up on his escalating emotions. He pressed on, "Even though we haven’t seen each other in years, I’m very clear about my feelings. I like you, Victoria. A lot. Is there really no chance for us? Can’t you just give me a chance?"

"I’m sorry," I said, genuinely. At least now I had made myself clear. You couldn’t force feelings or attraction. That’s not how mate bonds worked in our world.

I couldn’t understand what Patrick saw in me. We hadn’t seen each other in years. There were so many beautiful and capable she-wolves out there. Given his standing with the Silverstone team, he could find a suitable mate in seconds.

"Why?" Patrick pressed, his hands clenching into tight fists. "Can’t you at least give me a reason? Is it that you don’t want a relationship right now, or is there someone else?" I noticed his eyes were tightly shut, pupils constricted to pinpricks. My keen hearing picked up the frantic shift in his breathing pattern.

"The reason is simple: I don’t feel that way about you," I explained, striving to keep my tone gentle yet firm. "I only see you as a friend. If being friends makes you uncomfortable, then perhaps it’s best we remain strangers." I straightened my shoulders and continued, "You saved my life, and got injured in the process. I feel I owe you a significant debt of gratitude, and I will do everything in my power to help you recover. No matter what happens, I owe you. If you ever need help in the future, I will unconditionally assist you once." My inner wolf let out a low growl. Nora disliked making such a weighty promise to a male who wasn’t our mate, but in werewolf culture, a debt of gratitude was a sacred obligation.

"Patrick, you should rest now. If you’d prefer to be discharged, I can arrange that too. I can send doctors and nurses to your home."

Patrick nodded, his expression softening slightly. "I’d much rather go home. It would be much more convenient for you to visit me there than wasting your time coming to the hospital."

"Alright," I conceded. "I’ll be leaving then."

"Wait," Patrick called out, his voice echoing faintly in the sterile hospital room. "Victoria, whatever choice you make, I want you to know that I will always support you," he said, his gaze softening. "Whenever you’re tired, troubled, unhappy, or angry, you can come to me. Like you said, we’re still friends. Just call, and I promise I’ll answer immediately and be by your side."

I frowned, my brow furrowing tightly, an uncomfortable pressure rising in my chest. It took me a long moment to force out two words: "Thank you." I hurried away, the sharp click of my heels echoing on the hospital floor as I practically ran.

Even across the corridor, I could feel Patrick’s palpable disappointment. He couldn’t accept my answer. Why? He had done so much for me, yet I had rejected him without a second thought. I claimed I didn’t like him, but what was it that he truly lacked?

In the upper echelons of werewolf society, how many relationships were truly built on genuine affection anyway? Most unions were forged for pack alliances and mutual benefit. True fated mates were a rare phenomenon. For me, being with him might have been the most logical choice. Patrick was very capable, and his family’s influence could solidify my Alpha status. And most importantly: if we married, my Alpha status would be fully preserved. The Lancaster territory wouldn’t face division. At least being with him was better than being with anyone else. But my wolf knew better. Regardless of political advantages, Nora would never accept a mate who wasn’t truly ours.

***

After leaving Patrick’s room, I sat for a long time in the hospital lobby, the scent of disinfectant burning my sensitive nose. His final words felt like yet another chain, attempting to bind me tighter. Uninvited intimacy was an invasion, not a compliment, and benefited no one. At least I had made my feelings clear. I didn’t like Patrick, and my wolf wholeheartedly agreed.

After collecting my thoughts, I finally headed home. As I reached the entrance to my residential complex, I ran straight into Damian, just returning home from work.

"Damian?" My voice held more surprise than I’d intended. "Just getting off work?"

"Were you visiting Patrick?" he countered, completely ignoring my question. The smoky cedar scent radiating from him sent a shiver of warmth through me, offering Nora a strange sense of comfort.

"Yes," I admitted as we walked home together. "The nurses said he was throwing a fit about being discharged. He felt uncomfortable at the hospital and wanted to go home. I agreed. Oh, and the hit-and-run driver committed suicide in prison."

"Victoria," Damian said, his voice dropping to a low, husky growl, imbued with that unique Alpha authority that made my inner wolf instantly alert. "Don’t you find that suspicious? I told you before, the whole thing felt off. It could very well have been orchestrated by Patrick, but you didn’t believe me. You insisted he wasn’t that kind of person."

"I really don’t see why Patrick would do that," I countered. "What would be his motive? To try to kill me, then suddenly change his mind and save me?"

Damian’s lips curved into a knowing smile that made my heart skip a beat. "Perhaps he planned to gain your sympathy from the very beginning. What if this entire incident was meticulously orchestrated by him? A classic hero-saving-the-damsel-in-distress scenario, designed to make you grateful to him? To make you treat him kindly? Patrick likes you—you’re not completely unaware of that, are you?"

I... I was speechless. After a long silence, I sighed. "I truly don’t believe people would actually do something like that. From what I know of Patrick, he wouldn’t go to such extreme lengths."

"What do you know about him?" Damian scoffed, a hint of jealousy in his tone. "Do you *really* know him that well? Do you truly know what kind of person he is?"

I remained silent, unable to refute his point.

"You haven’t seen each other in years," Damian continued, a determined glint in his eyes. "People change. I just came from the police station. The hit-and-run driver’s girlfriend showed up, and she said some very suspicious things."

"What was it?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

"She and the driver grew up together," Damian explained. "They’d been dating for a long time. She’s pregnant now, but he’d racked up massive gambling debts. He always claimed he gambled to give her a better life, and she tried to dissuade him many times. Eventually, with the amount he owed, she decided to break up with him." Damian narrowed his eyes and continued, "But just two days before the incident, the man came back, begging for forgiveness. He swore he’d never gamble again and claimed he could pay off all his previous debts. He pleaded for one more chance."

As soon as Damian finished his theory, my wolf instincts immediately went on high alert. "How was he going to pay off those debts? If he had a way, why would he suddenly commit suicide while in custody? Don’t you think there’s definitely something fishy going on here?"

After hearing Damian’s account, I had to admit, the situation was indeed highly suspicious.

"You went to the werewolf police station?" I asked, suddenly realizing how seriously he was taking this. Indeed, Damian had been unusually attentive to my affairs lately. He always seemed to be helping me handle one thing or another.

Words caught in my throat, and an urgent, burning question pressed against my lips. I wanted to ask if Damian liked me too. Patrick claimed he did these things because he liked me, but what about Damian? Why was he so concerned with my affairs?

I stood there staring at Damian. Perhaps he saw the complex emotions playing out on my face, for he stopped walking.

"What is it?" he asked, his tone softening.

People continued to walk past us, but my gaze remained fixed on Damian’s face, searching for answers in his eyes. My lips finally parted slightly, and certain words were almost on the tip of my tongue...