As I entered my office, the blood in my veins pumped faster than usual. I was tensed and on the edge.
Lance and James, my Gamma, trailed behind me. They had the nerve to suggest I visit my father first-pay my respects before anything else.
As if I owed that man a damn thing.
He was the reason for this mess in the first place.
“Good day, Alpha,” Dylan, the head of my council, rose from his seat and greeted.
I barely spared him a glance, tossing a lazy nod in his direction before stalking toward my seat at the head of the mahogany table while Lance and James sat beside Dylan.
“What is this I am hearing?” I asked, going straight to the point. I had no time for pointless drivel.
The forty-something-year-old man shifted uncomfortably, clearing his throat.
“Well, Alpha Kester…” He stalled, probably trying to find the least offensive way to phrase the bullshit he was about to spill. “The Alpha position is being threatened, and..” He was saying but I cut him off.
“And more than half the council think I am unfit for the position?” I asked with raised brows.”
I laughed.
It wasn’t even an… It even anger I felt-it was amusement.
The sheer stupidity of it all
He didn’t answer.
“What is their reason?” I leaned back, my elbow propped against the armrest, fingers idly brushing my chin as I watched him squirmu.
“The pack feels alone and abandoned. We feel like there is no Alpha leading us. You are hardly ever around.”
Ah. There it was. The predictable whimper of the weak. Though, I was impressed at the amount of guts he had finally gathered to speak out.
“Poor little pups,” I mocked, tilting my head slightly. “Crying because their Alpha isn’t holding their hands?” He stiffened.
“So, you think she is a better fit than I am…” I said, but it wasn’t a question. I was only quoting what the council had said. And I couldn’t hold myself responsible for the death of more than half of my c council.
The Alpha position was not up for debate. It wasn’t a fucking democracy.
I leaned forward, voice dropping to something slow and lethal. “And whose side are you on?”
I watched his throat bob when he swallowed and the sweat that trickled down his left temple…. It gave me an answer his mouth couldn’t give.
“I’m on on your side, Alpha,” he gave the response anyone in his position would at this point. He told me what I needed to hear, even though I already knew what his original answer was.
He wasn’t on my side. He just lied, and I may have just found my first scapegoat.
The door to my office pushed open, and in that instant, my blood turned to ice while my gaze narrowed to slits with a blinding flood of red swaming my gaze.
A slow, ugly s
A slow, ugly smirk curled at my lips as I sat back, watching her enter like she owned the room.
Karina,
The nerves.
The audacity.
She came to a stop in front of me, ignoring every other person in the room, her lips heavily painted with a deep shade of red curved into a knowing smile as she spoke.
“Hello_brother. It’s been a long time.”
KESTER.
“Leave us,” I said to Lance, James, and Dylan.
They hesitated for a fraction of a second-perhaps debating whether it was wise to leave me alone with her. But one deathly look from me sent them moving. The door clicked shut behind them.
I leaned back, studying her as she moved with that aura about her-the kind that suggested she belonged anywhere she pleased.
She sat down.
Bold of her.
I hadn’t even offered her a seat.
“It’s been a while,” she mused, tilting her head just slightly, her gaze raking over me. “You’ve grown into a fine young man, Kester.”
Her voice was smooth, like fine silk wrapped around a blade.
Her short, blonde hair still looked as silky as I remembered, only, this time, it was more well taken care of. Because the last time I had that hair wrapped in my hands, it took a good number of able-bodied men to tear her away from my grip. I left it in a mess.
“Good thing you’ve had your hair fixed, Karina,” I murmured, my tone as empty as my patience, “I see your hair isn’t the only thing you’ve fixed. Your audacity is back in perfect condition as well.”
“There isn’t a single thing money can not fix, little brother She replied smoothly. Little brother.
The words grated like rusted steel against my ears,
I wasn’t little.
I wasn’t her brother.
She was my father’s bastard. A stain on our family. Born two years before me to the whore who had poisoned my parents’ marriage beyond repair.
I hated her with every fiber of my being. She was as cunning and soulless as the woman who birthed her.
“I never thought I’d see you after the last time we met,” I emphasized the last word, relishing the look of anger on her face. “Too bad people don’t learn their lessons.”
She smiled. That same serpent’s smile I remembered from years ago, the kind that coiled around a room, waiting to choke.
But I wasn’t seventeen anymore.
“You don’t seem surprised to see me,” she said in a deceptively light tone, as though this was a casual reunion between long-lost siblings.
I allowed a slow smirk to curl my lips. “Oh, I’m surprised, Karina,” I said, watching the way her fingers toyed with the buttons of her blazer. “I was under the impression that corpses didn’t just stroll into my office uninvited.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, but she didn’t let the insult land fully.
“You tried to make me a corpse once before… Funny,” she urmured, “Seventeen years old, shaking with rage, your hands wrapped around my throat, the other around my hair-what was it you said to me that night?” She tapped a finger to her lips, mockingly thoughtful.
My jaw clenched.
I remembered what I’d said to her like it was yesterday.
I’d told her that she should never have been born. That her existence was a stain that needed to be scrubbed out. And that I would do what my father hadn’t had the balls to do-erase her.
And I had tried.
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