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It was not that difficult to imitate Ralph. Any child could act spoiled, call him Mommy, and pretend to cry. The culprit’s goal was clear. He was appealing to Lucien’s tender heart, using Ralph to tether Kinnon to life.

How could Lucien bear to kill Kinnon, all the while knowing that the innocent little boy would then lose not only his mother but also his father? Not to mention that the child was very close to Lucien during the latter’s stay in the Night Prowler Pack House.

“I can assure you that it is not Ralph. Ralph does not even know how to use phones,” Kinnon answered.

Well.

Of course.

Initially, Lucien also had his doubt. That was why he bombarded the fake Ralph with questions. But then when the fake Ralph started acting pitiful, Lucien imagined the boy on the other end of the line blubbering with sadness. Then, he dropped his guards completely.

That was what the perpetrator wanted.

Lucien clawed into the door frame full of resentment.

.....

“How is Ralph doing now?” he asked without raising his eyes to meet Kinnon’s.

“I had a video call with him today. Through his second nanny,” he added, just in case Lucien thought that his story was inconsistent. “He is doing fine, thanks for asking.”

Lucien gave a slight nod and then excused himself. As he strolled along the corridor to cross the hospital from one wing to another, he kept wondering who the person behind the wicked schemes was.

The person was responsible for the attack on Ralph.

At the same time, the person also made sure to weaken Lucien’s resolution in the war.

Actually, it was not only Lucien’s but also Ronan’s.

Lucien thought back about Ronan’s bad mood the night before the war commenced. Even without him saying anything about it, Lucien knew that Ronan was disturbed by Ralph’s call.

Could it be that Ronan was hurt that badly because he also hesitated to kill Kinnon? He too would not want to see Ralph ending up as an orphan.

Despite his harsh exterior, Ronan was kind and compassionate. Lucien knew that very well.

From the look of it, he was not the only one who knew that.

Lucien gritted his teeth.

Unforgivable.

Whoever it was, Lucien would track the person to hell and back.

When Lucien arrived at Ronan’s ward, the latter was deeply asleep. The doctor gave him some sleeping drugs so that he stopped moving around and trying to free himself from the straps.

“The wound is going to close completely within a week,” the doctor informed Lady Fangblade. “But if he keeps moving around restlessly like this, it is going to take longer. Plus there is a risk of infection.”

When head smacking and scolding no longer helped, Lady Fangblade and Lucien agreed to knock Ronan out for the time being.

The Alpha only woke up around an hour a day to mumble something about wanting to eat something, which he would gobble down the following day before he fell asleep again.

With no one else to talk to but Lady Fangblade, Lucien decided to ask her about the belt instead.

To his greatest relief, Lady Fangblade was not entirely allergic to the surname Silverback. The fact that her darling son bore the name did help a lot.

“The Silverback family does have a few items that are emblazoned with the sigil, but most of them were made a long time ago. They are usually family heirlooms,” she explained to Lucien.

“How long is a long time ago?”

“Something like a hundred to two hundred years ago, I think?”

“...”

That was really a long time ago then.

“The practice of putting the sigil on every valuable item ceased along with the growing civilization. Besides, if I am not mistaken, the Werewolf Council no longer offers the silversmithing service for that.”

“Alright. So, is there a list of werewolves or human beings that had been fortunate enough to receive these special items as gifts?”

Lady Fangblade shook her head solemnly.

Lucien’s face fell right away.

Lady Fangblade gave Lucien a sympathetic smile.

“No family keeps track of the gifts they distribute to others. Not to mention that every family member can do that as long as the items are within their possession.”

“Lady Fangblade, just how big is the Silverback family?”

The elder woman puffed into the air as she slumped back to her seat and recounted the Silverback family members before Lucien.

“Let’s see. Ronan’s grandfather had two sons and a daughter altogether. Dane is the eldest, Kragen is the second, and Helene is the youngest.

Each of them got married and had families of their own. Dane has who knows how many children other than Ronan, Kragen has three of his own, and Helene has four.”

“Before you ask further, the majority of family heirlooms fall into the lap of the new family head upon the demise of the previous one. Which means that they were Dane’s, and now they belong to Ronan.”

“What about the rest?” Lucien continued to ask.

“The rest might be distributed when the previous head was still alive. Those items have been gifted away. Naturally, the current family head will not start asking for the items to be returned one by one.”

“Are there many belts that bore the family sigil?”

“Not many,” Lady Fangblade answered, “But belts are very ordinary. No one from the Silverback family would remember such an item. Nowadays, the family heirlooms that Ronan kept are treasures like the first sword that the Silverback ancestor forged to slay his enemies or the twelve-jewel crown that the first Luna of the pack wore.”

Indeed, a mere belt could not compare to a sword or a crown.

“Since it is not an item worth remembering, could it be that the belt was a stolen item?” Lucien asked hopefully.

“Maybe,” Lady Fangblade drawled. She knitted her brows as she tried to recall something from the past. “There was indeed an incident from the past when the Silverback family’s treasure vault was raided.”