The Three Who Chose Me-Chapter 74: The Price of Fury

Kiel

The moment Josie’s eyes met mine, everything shattered.

She didn’t scream. She didn’t say a word. Her expression—haunted, pale, broken—was worse than any slap. Then she turned. Spun away like I was poison.

I took a step forward. "Josie—"

But she was already gone.

Her footsteps echoed down the hall, fast, frantic. I didn’t even try to follow. What would I say? What could I say? The damage was already done. Nothing I said now would fix this.

I stood there like a statue, my hand half-raised toward the empty doorway, wishing I could reverse time. My throat burned, but no sound came out. Just silence. Shame. Regret.

When I finally turned back, Varen and Thorne were watching me.

No sympathy.

Just ice.

Their eyes burned through me like torches, and suddenly, I felt like a traitor. Like a stranger in my own home.

"What?" I snapped, though my voice came out raw.

They didn’t answer. They didn’t need to. Their disgust was loud enough in the silence.

I’d never felt so damn alone.

My wolf still hadn’t returned. The ache of his absence pulsed in my bones, cold and hollow. He hadn’t just gone silent—he was ashamed of me. Just like everyone else.

I stumbled past them without another word. If I stayed another second in that room, I’d break.

The walls of the packhouse blurred as I walked out, anger and confusion crashing into me in equal waves. My thoughts were a mess, my fists clenched, my jaw locked.

This wasn’t just some misunderstanding anymore.

This was destruction.

And there was only one place I could think to go. One person at the center of it all.

Michelle.

---

I didn’t bother knocking when I reached her house.

I pounded once, hard, then stepped back as the door opened.

Her father stood there, a weak smile tugging at his lips like he was greeting a neighbor, not the man his daughter had just ruined.

"Kiel," he said politely, like nothing had happened.

I saw red.

"You let her do whatever the hell she wants," I snapped, stepping closer. "You’ve never taught her a damn thing about accountability. She lies, she manipulates, and now she’s gone and destroyed my life."

His brows furrowed, but the calm in his voice made my blood boil. "It’s not my fault you couldn’t control yourself around Michelle."

I stared at him.

Then I lunged.

I slammed him against the doorway, my hand gripping his collar, and for a second, I swear I nearly lost myself. My fingers tightened, and I saw panic in his eyes.

"What did you just say?" I snarled. "Say that again."

His hands came up, trembling. "I didn’t mean—Kiel—"

"You smug bastard. You think this is a game?" I hissed. "You think this is something you can spin with words?"

"Kiel!"

The voice came from behind him.

Michelle.

She stood at the hallway entrance, her hair a mess, face pale, dark circles under her eyes. She looked like someone had ripped her soul out—but I wasn’t buying it. Not anymore.

She stepped forward slowly, arms wrapped around herself like she was the victim.

"Kiel," she said softly, "just stop. You’re scaring my dad."

"Oh, am I?" I shoved her father away, and he stumbled back, gasping. I turned to her, fists clenched. "You should be scared too."

Her chin lifted, but her lips trembled. "I knew you’d come here. I knew you’d blame me for everything."

"You’re damn right I blame you!" I roared. "You set me up!"

"I didn’t set you up. You were there, remember? We had sex, Kiel," she said, voice small but cutting. "And you weren’t fighting it then."

My vision went black at the edges.

"You lying witch."

She flinched, but her eyes didn’t drop. "You touched me. You kissed me. Maybe you don’t want to admit it, but that doesn’t make it less true. And for all we know..." Her hand drifted to her stomach. "I might be carrying your heir."

That did it.

I don’t hit women.

I don’t hit women.

But my hand moved on instinct, and I slapped her.

The sound cracked through the room.

She gasped, stumbling back a step, her palm flying to her cheek.

The red mark was instant.

Silence fell. Her father looked like he might intervene, but I turned to him with a glare that made him back off.

"You’re a liar," I growled at her. "You drugged me or tricked me or—God, I don’t even know—but I wasn’t supposed to be with you. I went to that birthday party. I remember the lights. The drinks. And then... nothing."

Michelle’s eyes glistened with tears, but there was something behind them too.

A flicker of cold amusement.

Then she laughed.

A slow, low laugh. Mocking. Almost pitying.

"Do you hear yourself?" she said through a shaky chuckle. "You sound like a child caught sneaking out past curfew. ’I was drugged. I don’t remember.’ You think anyone’s going to believe you?"

"You think this is funny?" I hissed.

She stepped closer. "What’s funny is that you’re acting like some poor victim. You climbed into my bed, Kiel. You kissed me like you meant it. You moaned my name like I was yours. But now that your little mate saw the pictures, suddenly you’re innocent?"

"I never wanted you," I spat. "I never have."

Michelle’s smile vanished. Her jaw clenched, and her eyes turned hard. "Right. You didn’t want me... after you already got what you wanted."

"You think this is about sex?" I stepped forward, now inches from her. "This is about manipulation. I’m warning you—stay away from me. You show your face near me again, and I will have you abolished from this pack."

Her face twisted in something between fury and heartbreak. "So now you’re threatening me?"

I didn’t answer.

"Go ahead," she whispered, stepping back. "Hit me again. Scream louder. Make sure the neighbors hear. Maybe next time they’ll record it. That’ll really help your image, Kiel. The guy who beats women when they tell the truth."

I exhaled, fists trembling at my sides. "You’re toxic."

She crossed her arms, sneering. "And you’re pathetic."

"I want the truth," I said sharply. "How the hell did I end up in that hotel room?"

"You took me there," she said simply. "Said you wanted privacy. Said you didn’t care what anyone thought anymore. You kissed me like you meant it."

"You’re lying."

"Prove it," she whispered. "Because from where I’m standing, it looks like I’m the only one who remembers."

I stared at her, every muscle in my body screaming for release. But I didn’t hit her again. I didn’t move.

I just glared.

"You stay away from me," I said in a voice so low it scared even me. "If I so much as smell your perfume again, I’ll make sure you’re banished."

She tilted her head. "After you’ve already been between my legs, now you want to act like I disgust you?"

My stomach churned.

I took a step into her face, my voice cold as death. "You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as Josie. You’re not even worth her shadow."

Her eyes flickered.

I turned and walked out without another word, slamming the door so hard the walls shook behind me.

---

The walk back to the packhouse was a blur.

My limbs were numb. My breath came in sharp, shallow bursts. My heart thundered with too many emotions to name—shame, rage, guilt, helplessness.

Josie’s face haunted every step. The look in her eyes. The way she turned. The silence she left behind.

When I finally reached the packhouse, the front doors were open.

And waiting just inside were the elders.

Varen stood with his arms crossed, eyes like steel. Thorne beside him, jaw tight.

The room was tense—too tense.

I stepped inside slowly, my shoulders heavy, my shirt still rumpled from grabbing Michelle’s father. I didn’t even try to fix myself.

"What now?" I asked bitterly.

Varen didn’t move.

"It’s about time you showed up," he said, voice cold and sharp.

And I knew.

This wasn’t just a scandal anymore.

This was war.