Chapter 35: Mary's Ultimatum – Power or Sam Dies

The warehouse was a fortress of blackness, its steel and concrete walls a cold reminder of the Vipers' reign. Jake sat alone in his office, the bond a live wire in his chest, Sam's transformation a beat he'd felt even from the edge of the city. He'd witnessed it—Nick's blood flowing, Sam's claws tearing flesh, the feral power let loose. Pride had burned in him then, wild and brutal, a confirmation of all he'd endangered. Now, in the silence, that pride curdled into something heavy—doubt, a weight he couldn't shed.

Blood was still crusty on his shirt from the battle in the shack, his shoulder aching where Ethan's claws had ripped it, but the pain was distant, drowned out by the thrum of the bond. Sam was out there, with Ethan, being drawn further away from his grasp, and Jake's wolf paced beneath his skin, paws itching to reclaim what was his. The ring, the bond, the blood of Clara—it all led to this, Sam waking up to something more, something Jake had always been aware that he had within himself. But why? The question haunted him, a specter he could not identify.

The door slammed open, and Mary stormed in, her gray hair pulled tight, her eyes glinting with a fury colder than the steel around them. She carried a knife—Anna’s, by the look of it, slim and deadly—and slammed it hilt-down onto Jake’s desk, the blade quivering in the wood. “You’re a fool, Jacob,” she snapped, voice cutting like ice. “Letting that boy grow stronger—letting him slip away. You’ve lost control.”

Jake's growl was low, his gold eyes narrowing as he turned to her. "Mind your tone, Mother. Sam's not your business."

"Now he's everyone's problem," she snapped back, moving forward, unflinching. "I saw it—heard it from the Cobras who ran. He tore Nick apart, Jake—went full shape, fought like no omega ever would. You actually believe that was an accident? You believe the city won't care?" Her lips curled into a predator's snarl. "You made him a threat—to us, to you."

Jake's hand flexed, claws flashing in a brief instant, the bond surging with Sam's distant presence—shaken, bloody, but alive. "He's mine," he growled, voice raw, possessive. "Pact-bound. Needed him strong—wanted him strong."

Mary laughed, hard and acrid, bending over the desk. "Strong? He's a wildfire now, and you're too stupid to see it consuming you. You can't have both, Jake—either you grasp Sam, or you grasp your power. But not both.".

The words hit like a blow, and Jake came to a halt, the tension hanging between them. "What do you mean?"

"I'm telling you pick," Mary snapped, her eyes shining. "He's not your little mate no more—he's a weapon, and everyone desires him. The Cobras, Ethan's pack, even Anna sniffing.". You keep him growing that way, and he'll pull you down—or somebody will utilize him to take you down." She shrugged straight shoulders, crossed her arms, dropping into a cold ultimatum. "I have an idea—bribe Sam off to the Cobras. They kill him, ruin him, and we're hegemon of the city. End to peril, end to anarchy. You get to stay alpha, Jake. You keep the Vipers."

Jake’s chest tightened, the bond pulsing hot, Sam’s image flashing—blood-streaked, defiant, the boy he’d raised, the man he’d bound. “You’re asking me to give him up,” he said, voice low, dangerous. “To let them kill him.”

"I'm warning you to save yourself," Mary answered, unyielding. "You've gone too soft on him—too soft on that connection. Love's weakness, Jake, and power's the only thing that matters. Nick's gone, but the Cobras are still hungry—they'll take the offer. One life for the city. You brought him up—now let him die."

The room was silent, her words having their effect. Jake's head spun—Sam's initial shift, claws into Nick's skin, the pride that had lurked behind him when they'd gone stealthy. This was what he'd craved, right? Pushed Sam toward with the agreement, with each skirmish, with every lie. Clara's blood sang in his veins—unique, old, power Jake'd desired since killing her husband for it. Love? The word writhed within him, a stranger, a thing unbidden. He saw Sam's face—shy at age sixteen, angry at nineteen, tender in moments Jake couldn't deny. The link wasn't control—it was fire, hunger, part of him that he couldn't remove.

"Do you even hear yourself?" he growled, circling the desk, towering over her. "You'd trade him like a trade piece—my own—

Your own what?" Mary cut in, tone sharp. "Son? Mate? He's neither, Jake—just a tool you've let get too bloody sharp. I've already called in favors—Anna's on board with me on this one, and the Cobras are restraining themselves. Wait, and you lose it all—the pack, the city, him. Make up your mind, or I will.".

Jake's claws tore into the desk, shredding wood, his wolf snapping on the edge of control. Mary didn't even blink, her cold conviction a wall he couldn't get through. She whirled around, leaving the knife to protrude there as a silent warning, and exited, her footsteps echoing in the echoey room.

He stood there, breath heaving, the bond a steady thrum—Sam, out there, slipping further with every second. Love or power? The question clawed at him, tearing open wounds he’d buried under years of blood and ambition. He’d killed Sam’s father to secure Clara’s lineage, adopted Sam to mold him, bound him to wield him. But the memory of Sam’s defiance—“You’re my prison”—and the heat of their closeness lingered, a tether beyond the pact.

Jake moved to the corner table, a city map spread out in front of him—red and black-covered territories, Viper strongholds, Cobra swarms, Ethan's pack territory to the north. His fingers ran over where Sam had killed Nick, the alleyway a new wound on the grid. Mary's plan was cold, calculating—turn Sam over, let the Cobras tear him limb from limb, and the Vipers are unchallenged. Power, pure and absolute, the alpha's throne secure.

But Sam's face flashed again—bloodied, shaking, the feral power Jake had cultivated—and the tie tightened, a pull he couldn't shake. Power or love? He'd never questioned it before, never questioned the cost. But now, standing over the map, his fingers tracing the lines, his mind a battle of its own. Kill Sam, and he'd keep the city—but sacrifice the one thing that brought out the wolf howl. Keep Sam, and the Vipers might disintegrate, his kingship along with them.

The knife on the desk caught the light, Mary's threat held over the room. Jake's gold eyes studied the map in front of him, the room's charged energy settling upon his resolve. The question was, what were they going to ask him to exchange?