The Alpha Train (Christina and Sebastian) novel Chapter 231

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t you? The obvious answer as to who has something to gain by attacking the pack and killing off the Alpha is the Beta. And yet, you don’t seem to know that. Are you stupid?” he asks, obviously trying to get a rise out of Dexter.

Dexter growls, leaning forward. “I’m smarter than you.”

“I doubt that,” Christian says, maintaining what must feel like an infuriating calm to Dexter. “So, if you’re not stupid, then you’re covering for your previous Beta.”

“Previous?” he asks, outraged.

“You didn’t think I’d allow him to remain in his position after attacking me, did you? Oh no, he’s out. So, whatever promises he made to you, those are out too.”

He growls, before realizing that he didn’t respond properly. Then he shrugs quickly to try and cover it up.

“You’re the Alpha. You get to make those decisions.”

“Yes, I am. And, by the way, Steven isn’t Beta now either.”

I watch Dexter’s lip curl. “Then who is?”

“Braden. Beta Braden now,” he says. “I guess your ability to manipulate the pack/warriors just diminished significantly.”

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about. Can I go now?” he asks,

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looking like he’s utterly bored with this conversation.

“Sure,” he says, and Dexter stands. I’m shocked, but I don’t say anything. I’ve already learned to trust Christian.

Christian opens the door and looks at the guard. Dexter takes the opportunity to sneer at me. Something in his look makes me feel like I need to sleep with a knife under my pillow.

“He goes back to the cells,” Christian says, making Dexter’s head snap to him.

“Y–yes. Yes.”

“Hey! Hey, where are you going? Aren’t you going to let me out?” Dorian yells from his cell.

Christian ignores him and leads me out of the cells to my father’s… to my office.

I stand there, feeling shaky. I wasn’t ready for one of my own warriors to attack me.

Christian walks to the side table in his office and pours the two of us a drink. He hands me a shot glass.

“Shoot it. It will help settle your system,” he says.

I take the shot, the fire of the alcohol startling me out of my stupor. I suck in air, letting the heat of the whiskey spread through my body, warming the cold that felt like it had seeped into my soul at Dexter’s betrayal.

“Have a seat,” Christian says gently.

I do as he says, and he hands me a glass of whiskey this time with ice in it before going to pour one for himself. Then he comes back and sits across from me, leaning forward to put himself at eye level with me.

“Are you okay?”

“He wanted to kill me,” I whisper.

“Yes.”