For four weeks, I’ve behaved myself, obeyed every order, eaten what was put in front of me. I have not said her name. I have not spoken about my pack.
My wolf is going insane, the bonds are stretched thin, and I worry about Casey every minute of the day. She needs us.
But I don’t dare speak it.
I pace my rooms, trying to work out a way out of this. Every day, all day, I try to find a way out of this, but I can see only two options. I submit and kiss the idea of Casey goodbye…or I challenge my father and win.
It’s unfathomable.
But he’s got the alphas guarding the entrances. I can’t leave. I’m a prisoner in my own home. Every time I displease him, I see the rage in his eyes, and he looks less and less like my father.
Every time I had tried to escape, he’d managed to find out, and I’d been dragged kicking and screaming back to wherever he’s decided to hold me. The walls have ears. Fear has turned this pack inside out.
I track my father down five incredibly painful and terrifying months after we first reappeared in that clearing. I try to look contrite, but he starts to talk, and it all falls away.
“First, we will find you a mate, and then we will see about removing those bonds to that unsuitable pack.”
My blood runs cold.
He’s wearing a velvet robe; his hair is a mess, but he’s got a circlet of gold on his head. Like an actual king. Like he really believes this.
“Father, you can’t-”
He whirls and advances on me, shoving me back. “Do not tell me I can’t.”
“No,” I say, forcing myself to look down. I swallow hard, trying to think of a way out of this. “I just mean, they are good wolves; we might need them.”
He strokes his beard. “I’m sending them away. They are trouble. Perhaps a stint in one of the outlier packs will help to reeducate them.”
My blood goes cold. There is nothing left of the father I admired, the man I loved. I don’t know this person. My father would never take my pack from me; he would have been the first to rescue my mate.
He wanders away and goes to a window, where he looks out. “I have to have Oliver killed. He’s a traitor, always working against me!”
“You can’t do this!” I shout at him in pure panic.
He looks up. “Have you decided to see sense? Or are you choosing to continue defying me? I will break you, my son, and you will crawl on your bloody knees and beg for forgiveness.”
I shake my head. “You’ve lost your mind.”
“I am your father! You have no right to speak to me like that! This arrogance has got to stop. You went away and came back different. You are not my son.”
He wanders away from me, taking the circlet off and tossing it onto the desk. On his writing pad, all I see are scribbles.
A sob rises and locks in my chest. Casey, I’m doing this for Casey.
“I am your son, and you have locked me up for the last five months! Where is my pack?” I roar at him.
“You insolent little shit. I should have them killed.”
A chill sweeps through me.
“They are my pack; if they die, I’ll die.”
My father mutters and shakes his head.
“Do you have any idea how much they suffered to keep this pack and you safe over the last few years? And this is how you repay them? What’s happened to you?”
My father snorts. “This is me; it's time you learned your place, my son. It’s time you learned to kneel.”
