Chapter 159 – The Disobedient Son
Kieran
We ride hard to get back to Silvercrest. Eating cold meals and barely sleeping three hours every night. I left the coaches, and half the guards, to travel back at a more reasonable pace. The rest of us are pushing ourselves and our mounts to the limit.
Running as wolves would be faster, but father doesn’t like us acting like animals.
Every mile the gnawing certainty that Father is already plotting gets more urgent.
I know it before I see the walls of Silvercrest, before the guards salute me at the gate. He won’t sit idle after I let him know I’d be returning without Eli.
The temptation not to tell him until I arrived home in person was strong. But he’d see that as betrayal and keep me in the dark about his next move.
He will be making other plans, darker ones, and I hope, naively in all probability, that if I get back quickly enough, I can stop him.
If I can just put myself in front of him before the ink dries on whatever vile scheme he concocts, I can steer him from the brink. It’s foolish optimism, and part of me knows it even now, but I cling to it like reins in a storm.
The gates yawn open, guards snapping to attention as if my return matters. Their stiff postures already tell me what kind of welcome to expect.
I find father in the council chamber, not seated like a king for once, but pacing like a general. Alpha Alaric never rests when there’s blood to wring from stone.
“You’re back earlier than I expected,” he notes without looking up from the parchment spread across the long oak table. His voice is silk stretched thin over barbed wire. “I wonder if there’s a reason for that.”
I bristle. “Eli turned down our offer very publicly and there was no reason to drag out our presence there.”
“Mm.” His quill scratches, his indifference abundantly obvious. He signs his name with a flourish, sands it, and sets the parchment aside for sealing. Another contract. Another leash tied to his hand.
The wax gleams red as Marius presses father’s signet into it.
I step closer. “What are you doing?”
Finally, he lifts his eyes. Pale, sharp, icy. “What does it look like? I’m preparing. Mercenaries, scouts, supplies. We’ll need them when we retrieve the Omega.”
The word makes my stomach clench. Retrieve. As if Eli is an object, a misplaced heirloom to repossess.
“You can’t be serious.”
“Have you ever known me to joke?”
“He’s with Ronan Vale. They’re mated. If you try to steal him, it’s as good as declaring war.”
Father smiles, small and cruel. “It’s already war, boy. You’re just too simple to see it.”
I plant my hands on the table and lean across the contracts. “You’re provoking it.”
“Provoking?” He laughs sharply, delighted by my resistance.
“You think Vale needs provocation? He’s a mongrel Alpha drunk on blood and power. You’ve seen the way he keeps that Omega draped at his side. Weakness masquerading as strength. I’ll strip it from him, and when I do, Silvercrest will rise so high above the other packs, nobody will ever touch us.”
Images I don’t want come unbidden. Eli’s sharp gray eyes, mocking and defiant. The thought of my father’s hands closing around him and dismantling his heart piece by piece makes me furious.
“You can’t-”
“I can.” His hand slices the air, silencing me. “I will. And you’ll do as you’re told.”
The command chokes like a chain, one I’ve worn all my life. Tonight it chafes me raw.
“You can’t use mercenaries to drag him here like a prize!” I snap. “He isn’t yours. He’s a person!”
That’s when his smile vanishes.
In two strides he’s in front of me, looming, his pale eyes full of ice. “Not mine?” His voice drops dangerously. “Everything is mine. This land. These walls. The wolves who draw breath because I allow it. And you.” His lip curls. “Especially you.”
The words sink deep. Old scars ache, lessons whispered in pain come back in vivid detail. I force my voice out. “I’m not your pawn.”
He laughs, colder this time. “Pawn? No. A pawn has value if moved correctly. You, Kieran, are nothing but a disappointment. Weak where you should be strong. Sentimental where you should be ruthless. You had one task, bring the Omega to me. And you failed. Again.”
I flinch before I can stop myself. He sees it and pounces.
His smile sharpens, savoring the wound. “You’ll never be fit to lead. Do you know what my council calls you? The broken heir. The soft wolf. They’re right. I’ve tried everything, but you’re simply defective.”
My fists clench. Breath shudders loose. “I went because you ordered me. I tried every reasonable tactic to convince Eli to come with me, but he loves his Alpha. I put my life in danger every day by openly courting Ronan Vale’s mate. You think that’s weakness? Or loyalty?”
“It’s obedience,” he snarls. “And even that, you can’t manage without sulking.”
Something breaks. I slam my hands against the table, rattling the contracts and the inkpot. “You don’t want a son. You want a mirror. But I am not you!”
The chamber rings with my shout. My chest heaves and silence stretches. His eyes narrow, calculating, sizing me up before his voice cuts like poison. “No. You’ll never be me. You’ll never even come close.”
I stumble back, pulse pounding, air scraping my throat. He doesn’t move. His contempt has already stripped me bare.
I turn and shove the doors open, striding into the corridor, barely seeing the tapestries and braziers. My head is a storm. Eli. Ronan. Father’s voice. Retrieve the Omega.
The phrase repeats, sears itself into me.
My instincts scream at me to warn them. Tell Blackthorn. Get Eli out before the mercenaries march.
But loyalty tugs like a chain. These wolves are mine, aren’t they? Silvercrest blood runs in me, bitter as it tastes. If I warn Vale, I betray them. If I stay silent, I sign Blackthorn’s death warrants.
Outside, the night wraps cold around me. The courtyard stretches wide and empty, stars sharp overhead. My breath mists white, hands trembling.
I tell myself Father’s words don’t matter. That I don’t care. That I’m not that boy anymore. But I feel them anyway, tight as shackles.
I linger by the stables, watching steam curl from the horses’ nostrils. One snorts, pawing the ground, restless like me.
The urge to ride out again, to flee these walls before they close around me, claws at my chest. But I don’t. I can’t. Leaving isn’t freedom. It’s abandonment.
In the dark, I whisper to no one, “If I had any courage at all, I’d warn him.” The silence that follows is the loudest thing I’ve ever heard.
And yet my feet stay rooted in Silvercrest soil, bound by blood that feels more like poison than legacy. I walk the length of the courtyard until my legs burn, staring up at those pitiless stars, wondering how many of them Blackthorn’s wolves can see from their side of the border. Wondering if Eli feels the noose tightening even now.
Eventually, I turn back toward the keep, toward the walls that have raised me and caged me both. Each step heavier than the last, my father’s voice following like a shadow I can’t shake.
Broken heir. Disappointment. Weak.
Every word another nail in the coffin he is building for me. And I hate him, and I hate myself, and I hate how much truth still clings to his lies.
I clench my fists until the nails cut crescent moons into my palms. One day, I swear silently. One day, I’ll break the chain. But not tonight. Not yet.