Chapter 39 CHAPTER 039
Third Person POV:
The brass doorknob turned with a reluctant groan under Harry's grip, revealing the large expanse of his bungalow. His place seemed hidden in the shadows, because just like the Alpha, his place was built farther away from the people. Unlike Stone, Harry preferred minimalist interior arrangements like the grey walls, the soft cream colored curtains, the brown carpets and the single picture of him dressed in his coronation robe.
Despite the sparse collection of properties, Harry’s house still ranked second among the majestic houses owned in Ricko. The moonlight filtered weakly through the curtains, bouncing off the shelves before moving across the polished floors. The house looked clean and untouched. Like always. He exhaled through his nose as soon as he shut the door behind him.
"Finally, some peace and quiet." He muttered under his breath.
Then, he reached for the switch. Bright, white light flooded the room in a harsh, sudden burst. His wolf reacted before his mind could and his claws unsheathed. A snarl rumbled in his chest as his gaze snapped to the figure lounging in his favorite armchair.
The scent hit him a second later, thank god. He recognized that smell of aged whiskey, burnt tobacco, and expensive perfume. It was his father.
Ethan Cook hadn’t lost an inch of his imposing stature despite retirement. Hints of silver streaked his dark hair, combed back like he was still a soldier, and his sharp features could have been carved from granite. The former Beta’s fingers drummed absently against the armrest, his polished boots crossed at the ankles.
"And your wolf is still too slow." He mocked, his words biting.
Harry forced his claws to retract. "Father." The word was stiff, sounding like a habit more than a greeting.
Ethan’s gaze flicked to him. His eyes were cold and hard. "You’re late home. You know what I always say about getting good sleep."
"Beta duties." Harry shrugged off his jacket, draping it over the back of a chair. "Aren't you the one who taught me to break my back for work?"
Harry knew what a lie that was. Especially since no Beta duty includes grabbing a woman by the waist and almost defying the Alpha for her. Which sounded pretty stupid when thought out loud. But Harry knew his father was a smart man, and they both knew the pack’s duties had been finalized hours ago.
"Still doesn't excuse your coming home by this time."
"Give me a break," Harry scoffed as he walked down to the mini bar just at the corner of the room.
Ethan hummed, watching as Harry poured himself a generous measure of bourbon. The ice clinked loudly in the glass. "I hope you aren’t wasting time on distractions."
Harry took a slow sip, letting the burn drown his angry thoughts. He was over thirty and his father still hovered like he was a teenager. That twisted his insides harder than he could admit. "Everything’s under control."
"Is it?" Ethan leaned forward, the leather creaking beneath him. His voice dropped, sounding like a soap commercial as he spoke. "I heard rumours. I heard something about a stray our Alpha dragged home. A wolfless omega who’s somehow become his… concern."
Harry’s grip tightened imperceptibly on his glass. Ari’s name made his heart beat too fast and it made his stomach flutter. But when it came out of his father's mouth, his stomach fell. He schooled his face into neutrality. "She’s not of any importance"
"Are you sure? From what I know, she seems to be a very important asset to the Alpha of Ricko. And you know my source of information would never lie. Lying to me?" Ethan chuckled, but his eyes remained flinty. "I thought I taught you better than that, son."
Harry exhaled through his nose. "Her name’s Ari. She is from Shadowfang. But she is wolfless, so yes, not too important. But she is not helpless either." The words came out easier than he expected, laced with a reverence he didn’t bother to mask. "She’s clever and resilient. She stands up to the Alpha better than any warrior I’ve seen—"
"You sound infatuated." Ethan’s lip curled.
Harry stiffened. "I sound factual. When the Alpha’s wolf became uncontrollable, she calmed him."
Ethan rose abruptly, circling the chair like a predator. "I know a few facts like, Stone’s losing his grip, and that girl is the chink in his armor." He stopped directly in front of Harry, close enough for the whiskey on his breath to reach his nostrils. "And another fact is, you’re meant to be the one holding the knife when he falls."
Harry held his father’s stare, the bourbon souring in his mouth. "I haven’t forgotten the plan."
"Good." Ethan stepped back, smoothing his sleeves. "Then you won’t mind proving it."
For a second, they were both silent. Then, Ethan turned toward the door, pausing only to deliver his final blow. "Bring his head to me. Or step aside and let someone else do it."
The click of the latch was so loud he could hear it in his chest. Harry drained his glass in one swallow, but the alcohol was doing nothing to drown the truth. And the truth was that he was running out of time to choose.
And Ari’s scent still lingered in his mind.
Harry tossed the glass aside, until the shattering sound of the glass breaking filled the room. His chest heaved, and his fingers twitched as he fought the urge to tear the whole damn house apart. Instead, he sank onto the armchair his father had vacated. The leather was still warm just like that day.
He closed his eyes.
He remembered that sunny afternoon in the training field. He was seventeen years old, and sweat stung his eyes as he parried Stone’s relentless strikes, the wooden practice swords cracking against each other. Sierra circled them, her laughter edging him on and churning in his stomach.
"Come on, Harry," she teased, twirling her dagger. "Even I could take you down at this rate."
His father’s voice cut through the air like a speaker. "Focus, boy. Or are you just here to embarrass me?"