Chapter 31: Chapter Thirty One - Daddy Issues

DALLAS’S POV

“I can’t believe this! A cell? Really?”

Carter’s voice echoed down the corridor, shrill with panic and fury. “Dallas, tell these people to get their hands off me! I’m still hurting, for heaven’s sake! Is this how you all treat people who are supposed to be pregnant.”

Dallas watched from his position leaning heavily against the medical wing doorframe as four of his guards carried Carter away; two holding his arms, and another two gripping his legs as he thrashed and kicked like a feral cat.

His mate was still weak from the ordeal, his struggles clumsy and ineffective, but the fire in his eyes burned bright enough to warm Dallas’s cold, exhausted heart.

“Let GO of me!” Carter screamed, twisting violently in their grip. “This is kidnapping! False imprisonment! You can’t just—”

“You’re going to a five-star prison,” Dallas called out, unable to suppress the smirk tugging at his lips despite the bone-deep weariness threatening to drag him back to sleep.

“You’ll love it, don’t worry. It’s very spacious and has excellent lighting. Just pretend you don’t see the iron bars.”

Carter’s voice came echoing back from somewhere down the hallway, growing fainter but no less furious. “Dallas, you’re going to pay for this! Do you hear me? You’re going to pay!”

“I look forward to it, mate,” Dallas called back, his smirk widening. “Be nice to your jailer!”

The string of creative profanity that followed made even the most seasoned guards wince.

As soon as Carter’s voice faded completely, swallowed by distance and the thick stone walls of the lower levels, Dallas’s expression faded.

The amusement drained from his face, replaced by a cold, grim and deadly serious expression, all traces of amusement fizzling out to nothing.

He turned to face the assembled guards still standing in the corridor; there were six of them, all of whom were battle-hardened warriors who’d served the Cross pack for decades.

And Balfour, his Beta, had been called upon as well, standing at the front with his massive shoulders hunched and his head slightly bowed.

They all recognized that look on Dallas’s face. They’d seen it before, right before he’d torn apart a rival Alpha who’d dared to challenge his authority, and when he’d executed a traitor who’d sold pack secrets to their enemies.

The air in the corridor grew heavy with tension.

“Now that my mate is secured,” Dallas said, his voice cold and dangerous, “perhaps someone can explain to me exactly how brother got into this mansion, into my private chambers, and nearly murdered my mate without any of you so much as spotting him.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Balfour stepped forward, his weathered face pale “The fault is mine, Alpha.” His voice was steady despite the fear Dallas could smell rolling off him. “I take full responsibility.”

“Explain.”

“I left Carter alone in the library to retrieve painkillers from the medical wing’s storage,” Balfour said, his massive hands clenching and unclenching at his sides.

He continued, “He’d mentioned feeling unwell and dizzy. I thought it was just pregnancy symptoms, nothing serious. But I realize now that I should have stayed with him. It would have been better to send someone else to fetch the medication.”

He paused, speaking through gritted teeth. “I didn’t anticipate such a blatant attack, especially so close to the Moon Festival when our security should have been at its highest. I failed to protect your mate. The blame falls on me alone.”

One of the younger guards; Elias, an omega, cleared his throat nervously. “Alpha, we… several of us saw Marcus in the halls. But we thought it was you. The resemblance is uncanny, and with the household preparing for the festival, we assumed you were overseeing preparations.”

Another guard nodded, shame mixing with his scent. “He walked with authority, Alpha. He gave us orders as though he had every right to be here. We were none the wiser, so by the time we realized something was wrong, it was too late. We heard the screaming from the upper floors, but—”

“But you didn’t reach him in time,” Dallas finished, his voice flat and emotionless.

The guards flinched as if he’d been struck.

Balfour stepped forward again, positioning himself between Dallas and the younger wolves and taking the blame for them. “They only followed protocol, Alpha. The fault is mine for leaving your mate unguarded. I am the Beta. I am responsible for pack security. This failure is mine to bear.”

“You’re right,” Dallas said quietly. “You are to blame for this.”

His hand shot out faster than the eye could track, grabbing Balfour by the throat and slamming him against the wall hard enough to crack the plaster and send rocks crumbling to the ground.

The older wolf didn’t resist, nor did he fight back, instead, he kept his head lowered in submission even as Dallas’s grip tightened around his throat.

“My mate almost died,” Dallas growled, his face mere inches from Balfour’s. “He was torn apart, bleeding to his death on my bathroom floor, all because you left him vulnerable. Because you failed in your duty.”

Balfour’s face was turning purple from lack of oxygen, but he still didn’t struggle. “I understand, Alpha. I accept any punishment you deem fit.”

Dallas held him there for another long moment, watching the light start to fade from Balfour’s eyes. Then he released him abruptly, letting the larger man drop to his knees gasping for air.

“You have disappointed me, Balfour,” Dallas said, his voice carrying the weight of absolute authority. “You, who practically raised me. You, who I trusted above all others to keep what’s mine safe. And you failed.”

Balfour bowed his head, one hand massaging his bruised throat. “I will work to earn back your trust, Alpha. However long it takes.”

“You will,” Dallas agreed. “Starting now.”

He commanded, “Go find Marcus. I don’t care if you have to search every inch of the territory, every allied pack, every godsforsaken cave in the mountains. Find him and bring him to me alive. I want to look him in the eyes when I make him pay for what he’s done.”

Balfour climbed to his feet, his expression hardening into something fierce and determined. “Of course, Alpha. I will not fail you again.”

“Good.” Dallas turned to the assembled guards, his red eyes sweeping over each of them.

“The rest of you, spread out. Search the pack lands, the surrounding towns, anywhere he might hide. I want reports every six hours. If anyone spots him, you contact me immediately. Is that understood?”

A chorus of “Yes, Alpha” echoed through the corridor.

“I’ll be visiting Marcus’s pack house personally,” Dallas continued, already planning the confrontation in his mind. “If he’s stupid enough to return there, then I want to be the one waiting for him.”

The guards filed out quickly, eager to escape their Alpha’s wrath and prove their worth.

Balfour lingered for just a moment, his expression heavy with regret.

“Alpha,” he said quietly. “I truly am sorry. Your mate… he’s a good man. He didn’t deserve what happened to him.”

Dallas’s expression softened the slightest bit. “I know. Now go. Make this right.”

Balfour nodded and left, his heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor until Dallas was alone.

Almost alone.

Dr. Thorne had been standing silently in the medical wing doorway the entire time, observing with sharp, assessing eyes that missed nothing. Now he cleared his throat, drawing Dallas’s attention.

“Alpha, there’s something you should know.”

Dallas’s eyes narrowed. “What is it, Thorne?”

The old doctor’s expression was carefully neutral, but Dallas could smell his anxiety in the air. “I sent word to your father. About the recent events; your mate’s near-assassination, your own brush with death. I thought it important to inform the current Alpha that his heir was in mortal danger.”

For a moment, Dallas just stared at him, his exhausted brain struggling to process what he’d just heard.

Then when the words finally registered, white-hot rage flooded through him.

“What?” He snarled. “Who the hell asked you to do that? I specifically told you I had everything under control!”

Dr Thorne held his ground, though his hands trembled slightly. “You were dead, Alpha Dallas. Or as close to it as makes no difference. Your heart had nearly stopped, and your body was shutting down.”

He continued, his voice shaking with tension, “I had no way of knowing if you would survive taking on your mate’s wounds. I had a duty to inform the pack’s true Alpha that his oldest son, his chosen heir, was dying.”

“I told you I would be fine!” Dallas’s claws extended, scraping against the wall. “I’m standing here now, aren’t I? I survived. Send your messenger back immediately. That message cannot reach my father. I am not in any headspace to deal with him right now.”

Not after everything. Between Carter locked in a cell hating him, Marcus still out there hunting them, and his own body barely holding together after the pain transfer, he couldn’t face his father’s judgment.

Or worse, his disappointment, or another one of his endless lectures about duty and responsibility and the proper behaviour of an Alpha.

His father was a deeply sadistic old man who believed in torture and corporal punishment, much like his brother Marcus.

He would demand utter submission and obedience from his heir's mate as tradition demanded, and Carter was clearly incapable of that, which would ultimately lead to deadly conflict between the two.

Dallas knew he could never allow that to happen. His mate and his father could never meet.

Dr. Thorne’s face went even paler. “But Alpha Dallas…”

His nervous tone made Dallas’s stomach drop.

“What?” he demanded. “Spit it out, Thorne.”

The old doctor swallowed hard. “The messenger reached him two days ago. I already received word this morning.”

He met Dallas’s eyes, and in them Dallas saw sympathy and fear. “He’s already on his way here. Your father arrives within the hour.”

“What?