A Pregnant Guest Had a Breakdown at My Christmas Party — Then Confessed She ‘Killed’ Me in an Alternate Timeline

Part 2

My hand dropped from the polished brass doorknob like the metal had physically burned me.

The impossible words echoed inside my skull, tumbling over each other until they completely stopped making sense.

Murdered me.

Alternate timeline.

Lying to Tyler.

My chest tightened painfully, pulling the precious air from my lungs as my dormant shifter instincts violently flared to life.

The protective wolf hiding inside me didn’t care about the physics of timelines or the context of apologies.

She only cared that an active, admitted threat was standing less than ten feet away from us.

My sharp claws pricked painfully against the sensitive skin of my palms as I shoved the heavy oak door completely open.

It slammed against the plastered wall with a deafening, echoing crack.

Rachel gasped loudly, stumbling back against the sharp edge of the mahogany desk.

She protectively clutched her swollen belly, her tear-filled eyes wide and completely terrified.

Dan whipped around to face the doorway, instinctively stepping between us like a desperate human shield.

The sharp scent of his rising panic hit me like a physical blow, sour and metallic beneath his usual pine.

He held both his hands up in surrender, his expression a desperate, silent plea for absolute calm.

I ignored his posturing entirely, keeping my glowing eyes locked onto the weeping woman trembling behind his broad shoulder.

The warm, flickering candlelight from the hallway spilled over the threshold into the dark room.

It cast long, monstrous shadows across the intricately woven Persian rug.

I stepped smoothly over the threshold, my heavy boots completely silent on the thick carpet.

Every single muscle in my tense body was coiled incredibly tight, ready to snap forward at the slightest provocation.

I didn’t yell at them.

I didn’t scream or throw furniture.

My voice came out deadly quiet, vibrating with a lethal, icy calm that scared even me.

I demanded to know exactly what she had just said about killing me.

Rachel let out a pathetic, broken whimper, hiding her tear-stained face in her hands as her narrow shoulders shook violently.

Dan took a cautious step forward, desperately trying to block my direct line of sight to his pregnant companion.

He used that incredibly annoying, placating tone he always utilized when trying to de-escalate a vicious pack dispute.

He told me I completely misunderstood the conversation, claiming that Rachel was just exhausted and the pregnancy hormones were making her deeply confused.

I let out a low, incredibly dangerous growl that actually rattled the fragile glass in the nearby display cabinets.

My eyes flashed their brilliant wolf-gold, my inner beast rising dangerously to the surface and refusing to be silenced by lies.

I told Dan to shut his lying mouth before I ripped his throat completely out of his neck.

He actually flinched at the raw aggression, his jaw clicking shut as he realized exactly how close I was to losing total control.

I shifted my burning focus back to the sobbing woman who had just confessed to my violent murder.

I took another slow, highly deliberate step deeper into the shadowy room.

I needed concrete answers right now, before I tore this entire historic house apart looking for them myself.

What exactly do you mean you killed me in another life, and why is Tyler’s brother nodding like he already knows?