Chapter 92 92
Emmanuel
I’m the first to see him enter. The castle gate groans under his strength, and the echo of his footsteps thunders like a war drum. My father, Thorne, doesn’t walk—he crushes the ground with every stride, his fury held in those broad shoulders that could topple mountains. Ezequiel stands beside me, rigid, fists clenched, but it’s me who has to speak. It’s always been me. The air smells of iron and ash, and my chest tightens as if something inside wants to break. I can’t let it.
We’re here because we need to change things. We need Lois, and for that the conditions have to be better—for her, for our bond.
“Have you come to surrender?” His voice slices the silence—deep, a growl disguised as a question. His eyes, hard as steel, sweep over Ezequiel and me as if we were insolent pups. He doesn’t sit on his throne; he remains standing, towering, a pillar of muscle and will reminding us he is the alpha. He always has been. “Or do you think you can keep defying me and walk out alive?”
I draw a deep breath. The sun burns in my blood—a heat I’ve learned to tame—but I’m not stupid enough to think I can match him. Not yet. Thorne could rip Enzo’s head off—the vampire king—with his bare hands. I’ve seen him tear wolves in half without breaking a sweat. We’re young, raw, and though the power of one of the ten she-wolves runs through our veins, he is a damned titan. But I didn’t come here to bend. I can’t. If I yield, I’ll lose her. Her. My mind names her silently, a secret I guard like poisoned treasure.
I want to know where she is, if she’s safe. Worry threatens to buckle me, but I have to be stronger.
“We’re not surrendering, Father.” My voice comes out steady, though inside I tremble. I take a step forward, meeting his gaze. “We’re your heirs. Alphas by right. We don’t need you deciding our fate.”
Thorne lets out a dry laugh—a sound that scrapes like stone on stone.
“Heirs?” He spits the word like an insult. “You fled like rats, left the border exposed, and now you crawl back with your tails between your legs. You think that makes you alphas? Alphas don’t run, Emmanuel. Alphas don’t choose trash over duty.”
Ezequiel growls beside me—a low, dangerous sound—but I stop him with a gesture. It has to be me. I’m always the one who keeps a cool head, even when my blood boils.
“We didn’t run out of cowardice,” I reply, teeth clenched. “We came back of our own will. Because this pack is ours as much as yours. And we won’t let you trample what belongs to us.”
His eyes narrow, and for a second I think he’ll lunge. He could. He could snap my neck in one motion and keep breathing as if nothing happened. But he doesn’t. Instead he steps closer—so close I feel the heat of his rage like a storm about to break.
“What belongs to you?” His tone drops, lethal. “I decide what belongs to you, pup. And you’re entitled to a mate worthy of the border. I have one ready for you. A pure she-wolf—strong—not that… weak thing you drag like a chain. Accept her, Emmanuel, and I’ll forgive you. Refuse, and I’ll make you wish you’d never been born.”
My heart stops for an instant. Another mate. The idea turns my stomach, but worse is the insult. She isn’t weak. She isn’t a thing. She is everything. But I can’t say it. I can’t name her. I glance at Ezequiel from the corner of my eye. He’s trembling, on the verge of exploding, but he still trusts me to lead this.
“I won’t accept anyone you choose,” I say, and my voice shakes a little, but I don’t back down. “I’m your heir, yes—but I’m also an alpha. And I choose my own path.”
Thorne roars—a sound that shakes the castle walls—and his fist slams into the oak table, splitting it in two as if it were paper. The guards in the shadows tense, but no one moves. He is a force of nature, and we are mere embers before his blaze.
“Insolent!” he bellows, his breath hitting my face. “You think you can defy me? You—a pup who barely controls his fire? I am the alpha of this pack! I hold the border! I keep the vampires in their place! Without me, you’d all be dead! I am the balance in this entire world, and I won’t let you two treat that responsibility lightly. There’s too much weight in the position. And if you can run at the first sign of trouble—just for a mate—abandoning your duties and your pack, you’re hardly worthy of the role, Emmanuel.”
Ezequiel steps forward, and this time I don’t stop him. His eyes glow golden, the sun awakening in him as it does in me.
“It’s not just Emmanuel, Father,” he snaps, voice sharp as a blade. “I’m his equal. And Emmanuel isn’t alone. We’re two alphas, and this pack will follow us.”
Father looks at him, and for the first time I see a flicker of surprise on his face. Ezequiel extends his hand, and a small but intense flame dances in his palm. It’s not as powerful as mine—not yet—but it’s enough to prove it. We’re his sons, and our power is growing. But he… he is more. He knows it.
“Equal?” Thorne lets out a bitter laugh. “You’re a pup playing with sparks. And you, Emmanuel, are an idiot if you think this impresses me. You’re not stronger than me. You never will be.”
He’s right. I know it. If he fights now, he’ll destroy us. He could kill us both and still have strength left to face a dozen Enzos. But this isn’t about brute force. Not today. It’s about standing our ground—showing him we won’t bend. Because if we do, she’ll be lost forever.
“It’s not about surpassing you,” I say, and my voice hardens, though my mind screams I’m insane for continuing. “It’s about our right. We’re alphas. Both of us. And we won’t abandon what is ours.”
Thorne falls silent—a heavy silence that crushes my shoulders. His eyes shift from me to Ezequiel, then back to me. There’s something there, beyond the fury. Calculation. Danger.
“Then prove it,” he says at last, voice a whisper that cuts deeper than his roars. “If you’re alphas, face the pack tomorrow in the circle. Earn their loyalty—or I’ll tear you apart myself. And that mate you refuse, Emmanuel—she’ll be yours if you lose tomorrow.”
No. This wasn’t the plan.
Putting Lois on the line isn’t the best option.
I refuse!