Alpha's mate is a male?!?-Chapter 181: His Voice.

Kieran exhales slowly, his fingers tightening around his phone as the weight of the situation settles in.

The reports are disturbing, bodies dropping without a cause, a killer who leaves no trace, fear spreading like wildfire.

He places the phone down and turns to Ace, who’s watching him closely.

Ace’s worry is obvious, the slight crease in his brows, the way his lips press together as if holding back words.

Kieran leans down, pressing a soft kiss to Ace’s lips. It’s brief, a moment stolen in the quiet before the storm. "I have to go," he murmurs, brushing his nose against Ace’s before pulling back. "There are murders happening right now, and they have no idea what’s causing them."

Ace doesn’t respond immediately, his fingers curling into the blanket. His chest rises and falls steadily, but Kieran knows better. He can feel the tension radiating from him, the silent battle in his mind.

Kieran places another quick kiss on Ace’s lips, hoping to soothe him, but as soon as he turns to leave, a firm grip catches his wrist.

Ace’s voice is quiet but firm. "Do you need help?"

Kieran sighs, already anticipating this. He turns back, meeting Ace’s determined gaze. "I can’t have you there, Ace." he says gently. "We still don’t know what we’re dealing with yet. It might be dangerous than we could imagine."

"I can help you figure it out," Ace insists, his grip tightening.

Kieran shakes his head. "Ace, I know why you’re insisting, because you want to be there, watching my back, making sure I’m safe. And I know why." He lifts his free hand, cupping Ace’s cheek. "I know. But I promise you, I will not do anything reckless." freewebnøvel.coɱ

Ace doesn’t look convinced.

"I’ll do what needs to be done, and I’ll come back to you. Alive." Kieran’s voice is steady, unwavering. "I promise you."

Ace swallows, his fingers loosening slightly but still holding onto him. Kieran knows what’s going through his mind.

He almost died. The memory of that moment still lingers between them, unspoken but ever-present.

Kieran sees the hesitation, so he steps closer, his thumb brushing over Ace’s cheek. "Baby, I promise you." His voice is softer this time, a reassurance, a plea.

Ace exhales slowly, reluctantly letting go. His fingers linger on Kieran’s wrist for just a moment longer before finally slipping away.

Kieran leans in one last time, kissing him deeply, slowly, as if trying to leave a piece of himself behind. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against Ace’s.

"Take care of our son," he whispers. "I trust you. No one can touch him while you’re here."

Ace nods, though his lips press together again. He wants to protest, Kieran can see it, but he doesn’t. Instead, he watches as Kieran grabs his keys and heads for the door.

Kieran doesn’t look back. If he does, he might hesitate too.

The drive to the station is fast, reckless even, but Kieran barely notices. His hands grip the wheel, his mind racing through the details he has so far. Nothing makes sense.

No forced entry.

No visible wounds.

No sign of struggle.

He’s seen brutal murders before, crimes so grotesque they’ve haunted his dreams, but this? This is different. Death itself is unexplainable.

By the time Kieran reaches the station, the air is thick with tension. Officers move around in hushed urgency, eyes clouded with worry.

The weight of fear hangs heavy over the building, pressing against his chest.

Stepping inside, he heads straight for the detective quarters. The room is filled with quiet voices, the clinking of coffee cups, the rustling of reports. But the moment Kieran walks in, the atmosphere shifts.

All eyes turn to him.

No one speaks at first, but he can feel the question in their stares. What do we do now?

The lead detective, a seasoned officer named Harris, stands near the evidence board, running a hand through his graying hair. His expression is grim.

"Sir," Harris greets him, but there’s no relief in his voice. No hope.

Kieran exhales sharply, rolling his shoulders. "Alright," he says, his voice cutting through the silence. "Tell me everything."

He is handed to reports.

Kieran sits at the long, cluttered table, his fingers gripping a stack of reports, his mind spinning in endless circles.

Pages filled with details- names, times, locations, but none of it makes sense. He scans each word again and again, searching for something, anything, that could explain what’s happening.

Nothing.

No forced entry.

No visible wounds.

No cause of death.

What was this?

How could someone, or something, kill without leaving a single trace?

The silence in the room is heavy, interrupted only by the occasional rustle of papers and the faint hum of voices outside the door.

Harris, standing nearby, watches Kieran closely. He doesn’t say anything, but the look in his eyes is clear: This is beyond us. We need you to figure this out.

Kieran exhales sharply, pushing the reports aside. "Take me to the bodies."

Harris nods once, already prepared for the request.

The moment Kieran steps inside, the sterile air of the morgue wraps around him like a suffocating shroud.

The overhead lights cast a harsh white glow, reflecting off the cold steel of the examination tables.

Three bodies lie covered, their outlines motionless beneath the sheets.

A medical examiner, an older man with tired eyes, pulls back the first sheet. "This is one of the latest victims. Found early this morning."

Kieran steps closer, his sharp eyes scanning the body for anything- marks, discoloration, something.

But there’s nothing.

The man looks perfectly intact. No bruises, no lacerations, no evidence of poison or suffocation. His skin is pale, his expression eerily peaceful, as if he simply stopped living.

Kieran frowns the moment he touches the body, he feels something. A disturbance in the air, an invisible pressure settling against his skin, crawling up his spine like a whisper of something unseen.

He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s there. Lingering.

He presses his palm against the edge of the metal table, grounding himself. It’s not a scent, not a sound, not a physical sign, but it’s something.

His jaw clenches. "What were the results of the autopsy?"

The examiner shakes his head. "Nothing. Organs intact, no internal bleeding, no toxins. It’s as if his body just... shut down."

Kieran doesn’t respond. He simply moves on to the next body.

And the same feeling returns.

That thing hanging in the air, unseen yet unmistakable.

It settles in his gut, twisting, gnawing at the edges of his mind, demanding to be acknowledged. But no matter how hard he concentrates, he can’t place it.

He closes his eyes for a brief second, inhaling deeply, trying to make sense of what his instincts are screaming at him.

But there’s no answer. Only a nagging presence that won’t let go.

It follows him when they leave the morgue.

It follows him through the streets as they drive from one crime scene to another, checking locations, talking to witnesses, gathering whatever fragments of information they can.

And with every crime scene they visit, with every empty, unexplained death, that feeling remains.

Constant.

Persistent.

Taunting.

By the time the day drags into the evening, the city is buzzing with speculation. The media picks up on the strange deaths, the lack of evidence, the eerie silence left behind.

And then, the rumors start.

Social media explodes with theories.

"What if it’s Blake?"

"Maybe she’s found another way to kill?"

"If the police haven’t found anything, it has to be her. She’s done this before."

Kieran watches from the station, his fingers hovering over his phone as he scrolls through news articles and online discussions.

The speculation spreads fast, and with every new post, the same conclusion repeats... Blake.

His jaw tightens.

They don’t know that he already caught her.

The city still believes she’s out there, still working in the shadows. And now, as the body count rises, fear grips the people once again.

Kieran knows what this means.

His grip tightens around his phone. He’s not ready for that yet.

The station is quieter now, officers either working quietly or taking a moment to rest before the next wave of chaos begins.

Kieran sits in his office, exhaustion settling deep in his bones.

He leans back in his chair, rubbing his temples before letting out a sharp exhale.

For the first time today, he allows himself to stop.

To breathe.

To acknowledge that no matter how much ground they’ve covered today, they still have nothing. No leads. No evidence. No answers.

Just that damn feeling.

His fingers move before he even thinks about it, dialing the one person who can ease the weight pressing down on his chest.

The phone rings twice before Ace picks up.

Kieran barely has time to say anything before

"You done yet? Are you coming?" Ace’s voice is filled with anticipation, laced with the soft warmth that Kieran didn’t realize he was craving so badly.

The tension in his body melts instantly.

His head falls back against the chair, eyes closing as he lets Ace’s voice wash over him.