Chapter 45: Not fatherly like

Vesper launched himself at me.

There was no humanity in the movement. It was a blur of muscle and lethal intent. I didn't have time to scramble away. I didn't have time to beg. I only had time to throw my hands up in a pathetic attempt to shield my face, bracing for the impact of teeth and claws.

I deserve this, a broken part of me whispered.

But as Vesper crashed into me, slamming my shoulders against the rough stone wall, something else erupted.

It wasn't a conscious spell. I didn't know any magic. It was pure, adrenaline-fueled instinct, born of the dormant power I knew that I somehow possessed.

A shockwave of concussive force blasted outward from my body.

It hit Vesper mid-snarl. The impact was like a physical blow, throwing him backward. He flew across the small cellar, smashing into the opposite wall with a sickening crunch that shook dirt from the ceiling beams. Wooden shelves splintered, raining dust onto the floor.

He crumpled to the earthen floor, stunned for a fraction of a second.

I stared at my own shaking hands, gasping for air.

Vesper shook his head, a low growl vibrating in his chest. He pushed himself up, dirt clinging to his sweat-slicked skin. The impact hadn't stopped him; it had only enraged the wolf further. Those dead silver eyes locked onto me again, burning with a single-minded purpose: destroy the threat.

"Vesper, please!" I choked out, tears cutting tracks through the grime on my face. "It's me. It's Sylvania. I know you remember. I know it hurts. It hurts me too!"

My words meant nothing to the creature wearing his face.

He stalked toward me, low to the ground, crowding me against the wall. The heat coming off him was immense, suffocating.

Above us, the cellar door slammed open against the cottage wall. Light from the firelit room above poured down, almost blinding me after the near-total darkness.

"Vesper! Back down!" Julian’s voice roared down the stairs, laced with desperate Beta command.

It had no effect. Vesper didn't even acknowledge him. He was beyond pack hierarchy now.

"Estava, do something! He's going to kill her!" Julian yelled.

"The potion failed," Estava’s voice drifted down, sounding old and defeated. "The trauma was too deep. He is lost to the wolf."

"He is not lost!" I screamed up at them, pressing myself against the cold stone as Vesper stopped inches from me, his breath hot and metallic on my face. I could see the individual flecks of silver in his irises, completely eclipsing the green I had once admired. "Vesper, look at me. Fight it!"

He loomed over me, one hand slamming onto the wall beside my head, trapping me. He leaned in, inhaling sharply near my neck. He wasn't scenting me for affection; he was finding the pulse point.

The terror was absolute, but beneath it, the bond flared to life. I felt his agony. It was a tidal wave of loss so vast it drowned out everything else.

A shadow fell over the stairs. Senator Bianchi descended, blocking the light. The space felt suddenly impossibly crowded.

The Senator took in the scene—his naked, feral son cornering a terrified. His expression was one of profound disgust.

"Look at what you've reduced him to," the Senator spat at me. "A rabid dog."

Vesper’s head snapped toward his father. The new scent distracted him. He let out a roar that vibrated in my teeth, shifting his stance away from me to face the Senator.

"Careful, Thomas," Estava warned from the top of the stairs. "If you challenge him now, in this place, one of you will die."

"He is my son," the Senator said coldly, unbuttoning the cuffs of his expensive shirt, seemingly unmoved by the snarling monster inches from him. "And he is broken. An Alpha does not leave a rabid animal to suffer. Or to threaten the pack."

He stepped off the final stair onto the dirt floor. The air pressure in the cellar dropped instantly. The aura of a mature, powerful Alpha rolled off the Senator in waves, colliding with Vesper’s chaotic energy.

"Stand down, Vesper," the Senator commanded, his voice like a cracking whip. "Submit."

Vesper laughed. It was a horrible, coughing bark that sounded nothing like a human laugh. He was smaller than his father, younger. But it seemed as though the thing inside him didn't care about odds.

Vesper launched himself at his father.

The Senator met his son’s charge head-on.

The collision was brutal. It wasn't a martial arts fight; it was like a brawl in a cage. Fists connected with sickening wet thuds. They slammed into the walls, knocking more earth loose from the ceiling.

I scrambled into the corner, covering my head, trying to make myself small. Julian rushed down the stairs, grabbing my arm to haul me toward the exit, but I fought him. I couldn't leave Vesper trapped between his past trauma and his father's present rage.

Vesper fought with wild abandonment, claws tearing at his father's shirt, drawing blood. But the Senator was disciplined, older, and utterly ruthless.

The Senator caught Vesper’s wrist in mid-air, twisting it with a sickening crack. Vesper howled, dropping to one knee. Before he could recover, his father followed with a brutal kick to the ribs that lifted Vesper off the ground.

Vesper landed hard in the dirt near my feet, gasping for air, blood streaming from his nose and mouth. He tried to push himself up, snarling weakly, his silver eyes dimming but still full of hate.

Senator Bianchi stood over his son. He wasn't even breathing hard. He looked down at Vesper with eyes devoid of love, devoid of pity. He looked at Vesper the same way he had looked at me—like a disappointing asset that needed to be liquidated.

"You are an embarrassment to my bloodline," the Senator whispered.

The Senator’s eyes shifted. The human brown bled away, replaced by a glowing, murderous Alpha red. His muscles began to tremor, bones shifting beneath the skin as he prepared for a full shift.

"No," I breathed, realizing what was happening. He wasn't trying to subdue Vesper. He wasn't trying to knock him out.

"Senator, don't!" Julian screamed, letting go of me and rushing toward them.

The Senator backhanded Julian without looking, sending him crashing into the stairs. He never took his eyes off his fallen son.

"You broke him, girl," the Senator growled at me, his voice deepening, distorting into a beast's rumble. His fingernails elongated into razor-sharp claws. "Now I have to clean up the mess."

He raised his clawed hand high, preparing for the killing strike.