Chapter 17 017
The air in my small apartment froze solid.
“Your father?” My voice was a thin whisper. “Here?”
Leo gave a single, terse nod. He looked like a wolf who’d caught the scent of a rival on the wind—every muscle coiled, his attention razor-sharp and focused inward, as if listening to something I couldn’t hear.
“How do you know?”
“I know his scent. And the sound of his driver’s car.” His voice was flat, devoid of emotion. The intercom buzzed a third time, longer, more impatient. “He will not leave. He knows I am here.”
Panic, cold and slick, rose in my throat. “What does he want?”
Leo’s stormy eyes met mine. “He wants to see the variable. The disruption. You.”
I wrapped my arms around myself. The cozy breakfast, the lesson, the moment with my hand on his heart—it all felt like a fragile dream about to be smashed by a very cold, very real hammer. “I’m not ready.”
“You will never be ready for him.” Leo’s jaw tightened. “This is the test, Chloe. The first one. And it is coming far sooner than I wanted.” He walked to me, placing his hands on my shoulders. His touch was steadying, but I could feel the tension vibrating through him. “You do not have to do this. I can go down. I can send him away.”
I looked at the intercom, silent now but somehow more threatening in its quiet. This man was his father. The Alpha. The source of the expectations, the gilded cage. He was the heart of the machine Leo had warned me about. If I hid now, what did that say? That I was a secret? That I was something to be sent away?
I took a deep, shaky breath. I thought of the ring in the wooden box. The mate of the Alpha stands at his side.
“No,” I said, my voice gaining strength. “If this is my world now, too, then I meet him. At my door.”
A flash of fierce pride lit Leo’s eyes, followed immediately by concern. “He is not a kind man. He will try to intimidate you.”
“I’ve faced scarier things than a disapproving dad,” I said, trying for bravado I didn’t fully feel.
Leo almost smiled. “No, you haven’t.” He straightened my sweater, a tender, futile gesture. “Remember, you hold my heart. That makes you more powerful than you know. Do not let him make you feel small.”
I walked to the intercom, my legs feeling like wood. I pressed the talk button. “Yes?”
A voice came through, deep and smooth as aged whiskey, but with an edge of absolute authority that needed no volume. “Miss Reid. I am Alistair Blackwood. I believe my son is with you. I would like to come up.”
It wasn’t a request. I looked at Leo. He gave a single, grim nod.
I pressed the door release. “Come up.”
The next ninety seconds were the longest of my life. Leo positioned himself slightly behind my shoulder, not hiding, but presenting a united front. I could hear the elevator climb, the soft ding of its arrival on our floor.
Footsteps. Not loud, but measured, deliberate. They stopped outside my door.
Leo reached past me and opened it.
Alistair Blackwood stood in the hallway. He was an older version of Leo—tall, broad-shouldered, with the same sharp, intelligent features and storm-grey eyes. But where Leo’s intensity was often layered with vulnerability or warmth, this man’s gaze was pure, polished granite. He wore a timeless, immaculate suit. He didn’t just occupy the hallway; he commanded it.
His eyes swept past Leo as if he weren’t there, landing directly on me. The appraisal was instant, comprehensive, and utterly chilling. I felt stripped bare, weighed, and found wanting in the space of a heartbeat.
“Father,” Leo said, his voice a low, warning rumble. “This is Chloe Reid.”
Alistair’s lips curved into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Miss Reid. How… quaint.” He said the word like it was a disease. His gaze flickered to the breakfast remains on my island. “I see I am interrupting a… domestic moment.”
“You are interrupting,” Leo stated, his posture shifting subtly, widening his stance. A protective barrier between me and his father.
“Merely accelerating the inevitable,” Alistair replied smoothly, finally deigning to look at his son. “You have been avoiding your responsibilities, Lucian. Playing house in the city. I came to remind you of your obligations, and to see for myself the… distraction.” His eyes cut back to me. “The human who has so captivated my heir.”
The word ‘human’ was a deliberate slap. A reminder of my otherness.
“Chloe is not a distraction,” Leo growled, the sound vibrating in the small space. “She is my mate.”
The word hung in the air like a thunderclap. Alistair’s composure didn’t crack, but I saw a tiny muscle jump in his jaw. His gaze on me turned speculative, colder. “Is that so? A bold claim. And an… unconventional choice.” He took a single step into my apartment without being invited, his presence sucking the air from the room. “Tell me, Miss Reid. What do you know of our family? Of our… traditions?”
My mouth was dry. I could feel Leo’s rage, a silent inferno beside me. I forced myself to meet those icy grey eyes. “I know that traditions can be cages. And that sometimes the strongest thing an heir can do is build a new door.”
A flicker of surprise, then amusement, crossed Alistair’s face. It was more terrifying than his anger. “A philosopher. How charmingly naïve.” He turned fully to Leo. “This is what you would choose? Over Selene? Over a union that would secure our legacy for generations?”
“I have chosen,” Leo said, each word a stone dropped. “My legacy will be one I build myself. Not one you broker like a business deal.”
“Sentiment is a luxury leaders cannot afford,” Alistair said, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. “You disappoint me, son. I had hoped your little rebellion was just that—a phase. But to bring a human into this… it shows a staggering lack of judgment.” He looked back at me, his smile cruel. “Does he frighten you, my dear? With his… intensity? His little growls? Do you have any idea what you are truly dealing with?”
“I know exactly what I’m dealing with,” I said, and to my own surprise, my voice didn’t shake. “I’m dealing with a father who is afraid his son has found a happiness he can’t control.”
The silence that followed was absolute. Leo went perfectly still beside me. Alistair’s polished mask slipped for one, infinitesimal second, revealing a flash of pure, unadulterated fury.
Then it was gone, smoothed over into icy civility. “I see the appeal. A spark of defiance. It will burn out quickly under the right pressure.” He addressed Leo again, dismissing me. “You have one week, Lucian. Return to the estate. End this… experiment. Or I will be forced to take measures to remind you where your loyalty belongs.”
“My loyalty belongs to her,” Leo said, his voice quiet, deadly. “You will not threaten her. You will not touch her.”
Alistair raised a brow. “Is that a challenge, from son to Alpha?”
The air crackled with a tension so potent it felt like the walls might bow. Father and son stared at each other, a silent battle of wills raging in the space between them. I saw it then, the animalistic hierarchy Leo had described. This was a power struggle, plain and simple.
Finally, Alistair gave a slow, deliberate nod. “So be it.” He turned on his heel and walked out, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
Leo slammed the door shut, the sound final and violent. He stood with his back to me, his shoulders heaving with ragged breaths. The calm, controlled man was gone, replaced by a barely contained tempest.
“Leo?” I whispered.
He turned. The look in his eyes was feral, pained. “I am sorry,” he rasped. “I am so sorry he came here. Into your space.”
“It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“It is not okay!” The words exploded from him, a raw burst of emotion. “He called you a distraction. An experiment. He threatened you.” He paced my small living room like a caged animal. “I should have known he would do this. I should have protected you better.”
I went to him, placing my hands on his chest, feeling the frantic beat of his heart. “Look at me. I stood up to him. You stood with me. We didn’t break.”
He stopped pacing, his hands coming up to cover mine. The anger in his eyes began to melt into a desperate anguish. “He will not stop, Chloe. A week. He will use it. He will try to separate us, to discredit you, to force my hand.”
“Then we have a week,” I said, forcing a strength I didn’t entirely feel. “A week to get stronger. Together.”
He pulled me into his arms then, holding me so tightly I could barely breathe. He buried his face in my hair, his body trembling. “I cannot lose you,” he whispered, the words a raw vow against my skin. “I would burn the whole world down first.”
In his arms, with the ghost of his father’s threats still hanging in the air, I finally understood the true cost of his compass. It didn’t just point to me. It pointed straight into the heart of a storm. And we had just been given a seven-day countdown before it hit land.