Chapter 112 Alpha's Wrath
Chapter 112.
Alpha Jax’s POV.
Then the knock seized a little.
Not stopped. I just hesitated. Like whoever stood behind that thick oak door suddenly remembered who I was.
Good.
I don't lift a nudge nor talk of raising my head. The temperature in the room tends to increase. The walls, closing down on me.
My fingers tightened around the pen until it almost broke.
I Tore the page carefully, not straight, never straight. One half slid beneath the table leg. The other disappeared into the hollow space behind the stone shelf where my father once hid his war maps.
Still going to ten.
I counted my breaths, slow, controlled, the way father had taught me when rage threatened to turn into slaughter. One… two… three…
If one paper vanished, the other would not. And if both were found, then the gods that would be the end of it all.
The knock came again.
Harder this time.
My jaw clenched. I dragged the pen the piece writing out the address in a coded form on the paper. Every seems long to memorize, or maybe my brain is failing due to the fatigue.
The smell of ink spread through the My room.
The pressured had greatly increased, everything seems tighter and closer than I have ever felt.
I knew they would knock on the door again Wolves always did.
They are always Persistent when they smelled authority or something close to the palace, or cowardly when it stared them in the face. Sometimes I used to wonder what was the job of the palace governor. Not every flimsy issues my attention would be brought to.
I know, If I stayed silent long enough, they would leave. They always left.
I needed time.
Time to finish this. Time to promise myself what would happen when I reached that place. I would move like a thief in the night. Quiet. Deadly. No witnesses. Ryder would look me in the eye and realize too late that the game he thought he was winning had only just begun.
And Rosa.
My grip tightened until my knuckles burned.
That manipulative snake. Sweet words, poisonous fangs. She smiled while my father’s body was still warm in the ground. She cried loyalty while sowing rebellion like seeds in fertile soil.
I had never liked her. I am sure too. She too had never liked me. We have only been managing each other and trying to get along until this revelation broke out.
The pen scratched again. Faster now.
The door rattled.
I snapped.
“Who is that?”
My head jerked up, chair scraping harshly against the stone floor. The lamp glittered as if startled.
“Why do you jobless wolves find time to disturb me when I am damn busy with my life?”
My voice came out hoarse, sharp enough to cut flesh. I didn’t care.
I coughed, the sound bitter, angry. The pen hovered above the paper, ink dripping like a threat.
“I… I'm sorry, my lord.” The voice shook. Young. Too young to be bearing bad news. “Your attention is needed presently at the palace.”
Palace? Again?
The word tasted like ash.
“To do what exactly?” I barked. The pen stabbed the paper, puncturing it. “Speak!”
“To attend to Alpha Francis.” He rushed now, words tumbling. “He… he had an accident a few moments back. Just after leaving the palace.”
The room went still.
Then my anger roared back twice as fierce.
“So how does that affect me?” I bellowed. I slammed my palm against the desk. Ink jumped. “Do I look like a healer or a diviner? Don’t you wolves know Alpha Vexhood’s place again?”
My voice filled the room, bounced off stone, thundered down the hall beyond the door. Somewhere, a servant would flinch. Good.
“Perhaps he could find something to do with him,” I sneered, venom thick. “Probably bringing him back to life. If alpha Vexhood needs him to carry out his wicked agenda. Just the way he had been recruiting every one.
Silence.
Heavy. Suffocating.
I imagined the young he-wolf on the other side of the door. Head bowed, ears flattened, His hand tucked behind his back.
He had never heard me speak like this. None of them had. I carried pack matters on my head like a crown of iron. I bled for this pack. I ruled with restraint even when they whispered behind my back.
But tonight, restraint was dead.
“Ok, your honor,” he said finally, voice dull, broken. “I will pass the message.”
His footsteps dragged away, slow, defeated. Each step scraped against my nerves.
The door did not open.
I laughed once. Short. Empty.
I wasn’t finished.
“And lastly,” I called out, voice dropping into something colder, sharper, “pass this message to the rest.”
I stood now, the chair falling backward with a loud crack. My body vibrated, power and pain coiling in my chest, fighting for release.
“I don’t want anyone knocking on my door for no reason.”
My throat burned, but I continued.
“If I collapse and die today, wouldn’t the pack move on with its life?”
The words tasted like truth.
“After all, that would be the prayer of every one of you all these while. The whole pack atmosphere would turned jubilating.
I smiled without humor, staring at my own reflection in the darkened window.
“Tell anyone that cares to listen that Alpha Francis reaped part of the fruit of rebellion his fated mate had sown.”
I paused abit
“Let the gods be praised.”
A sharp gasp slipped from the through the door. Shock. Fear. Maybe guilt. Or the mixture.
I didn’t wait to hear more.
I returned to the desk, breathing hard, chest rising and falling like a beast ready to break free. My hand steadied as I picked up the pen again. One last time. I finished the code, sealing it with a small slash only I understood.
Done.
I folded the paper carefully. One copy stayed hidden in the house. Another, I slipped into the lining of my boot. The remaining ones would be placed outside the palace before dawn—insurance against betrayal.
Something stirred in me then.
A thought.
Slow. Dangerous.
Wouldn’t it be nice… to start playing this game the way Rosa, Ryder, and the rest had been playing it ever since my father died?
A low chuckle escaped me. It echoed strangely, unfamiliar even to my own ears.
I reached for my clothes. Dark. Practical. The kind that didn’t draw attention. The kind soaked easily in blood. The fabric felt cold against my skin as I pulled it on, muscle memory guiding every movement.
The palace suddenly felt too clean. Too fake.
It was time.
Time to pay Rosa a visit.