Chapter 37: Someone Mocks My Authority

Rhydor’s POV

I didn’t look at her as she walked out. I kept my eyes fixed on the cold stone wall, listening to the soft sound of her footsteps until the door finally clicked shut.

​The room felt different the second she was gone. Emptier. It irritated me that I even noticed that the spot where she’d been standing now felt so quiet and still. It was a nagging feeling I didn’t want to have.

​I finally shifted my focus to my mother. She hadn’t moved an inch from the stone platform; she just stood there, staring down at the body.

​"Out with it," I said, my voice rough.

She looked up, her eyes heavy. "Something is not right, Rhydor."

"Obviously," I snapped.

"No, I mean..." She shook her head slowly, looking older than she had this morning. "I’ve lived a long time. I’ve seen things most wolves only hear about in nightmares. But this? This is new."

That sat in my gut like a cold rock. If my mother didn’t know what this was, we were in deeper trouble than I thought.

"New how?" I pressed.

She moved a step closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "This wasn’t a quick kill. It wasn’t a fight. It was... a process. Whoever did this knew exactly what they were doing. They needed time. They needed to be close."

She didn’t say the next part, but she didn’t have to. The threat wasn’t outside our walls. It was inside. Walking around. Eating at our tables. Smiling at us.

"You need to tell your father," she said.

"No."

"Rhydor..."

"I said no mother."

She looked at me for a long moment, then just gave a small nod. She understood. She knew that I was not on good terms with my father.

My mother turned and left without another word, her footsteps fading as she went up the stairs.

I was alone with that thing on the slab. Its face was gone, melted into a mess of scorched skin. It was a message, written in the blood of one of my own. And I was going to find the person who wrote it.

****

Later, in my study, I poured a cup of wine from the clay jug. The fire was dying, just glowing embers left in the hearth. I was tired, tired to the very bone.

The door swung open, and Silas walked in. He looked like he’d been chewing on nails.

"Bad news," he said, getting straight to it.

"How bad?"

"The orphanage is a pit." He dropped into the chair across from my desk and rubbed a hand over his face. "I went in as you said. Disguised myself and watched."

"And?"

He met my eyes, and his were flat and angry. "The kids don’t make a sound, Rhydor. They just... take it all in without a sound. I saw bruises older than some of the children. The ’guards’ there aren’t protecting anyone. They’re the ones giving out the hits."

The wine turned sour in my mouth. I set the cup down hard. "You’re sure?"

"I saw it myself. One of the little ones tried to hide a scrap of bread. A guard backhanded him for it. No one even blinked." He leaned forward, his voice like gravel. "It’s been going on for years."

For years. While I was Alpha. While I was busy signing papers and thinking I was a great leader.

My hands curled into fists. "Where are they? The guards."

"Dungeon. Axel is cleaning out the rest of the rot as we speak." ℴ

​"Good."

​The word didn’t just fall from my lips; it cut through the air like a frozen blade. I leaned back, my eyes turning a dark, dangerous gold.

​"I want them to feel hell on Earth," I said, my voice dropping to a low, lethal rumble that made the shadows in the room seem to twitch. "Don’t just punish them, Silas. I want them to suffer slowly. I want them to wake up every day wishing they had never laid a hand on those children. Break them until there is nothing left to break."

​Silas didn’t just nod; he sat up, feeling the weight of the Alpha’s command settle over him. It was a death sentence, just delivered slowly.

Then a shadow of a smile touched Silas’s mouth. "Already on it."

He didn’t get up to leave. He just sat there, watching me. "We should move them. All of them. To that new place, a bigger one."

I glared at him. "I didn’t ask for your opinion, Silas."

"You didn’t. But she didn’t ask for yours, either. She just saw a problem and fixed it." He stood up quietly. "Might be a lesson in that."

He left before I could tell him to get out.

I stared into the fire. A monster on the outside. A sickness on the inside. And Azura, right in the middle of it all, doing the job I should have done.

****

The heavy wooden door to my bedroom groaned as I pushed it open. It was way past midnight. I was exhausted. My head was spinning from everything, the weird body in the basement, the mess at the orphanage, the feeling that my own pack was hiding secrets from me.

​And then I saw her.

​She was standing right by the window. The moonlight hit her from behind, making her look creepy. Her back was stiff, and her shoulders were pulled up tight. She didn’t even turn her head when I walked in.

​Good, I thought. I wasn’t in the mood to fight anyway. I walked past her like she wasn’t even there and went to the other side of the room. I started ripping off my armor. The leather straps were being stubborn, and I was losing my patience. I unhooked my heavy chest plate and let it drop. It hit the floor with a loud thud that seemed way too noisy in the quiet room.

​I could feel her staring at me now. It felt like she was burning holes into my back with her eyes. I tried to ignore it. I just wanted to sleep.

​"What’s a dead body doing in the packhouse?"

​Her voice was quiet, but it hit me like a slap in the face. I stopped moving.

​"Did you kill someone?" she asked. Her voice was getting sharper now. "Are you hiding what you did down there in the dark?"

​My hands froze on my last piece of gear. All the anger I’d been holding in all day just boiled over. The stress of the pack, the hidden enemies, and now her, accusing me.

​I haven’t turned around yet. "Before I answer that," I said, my voice low and growly, "why don’t you tell me something first?"

​I turned slowly and walked over to her. I got right into her personal space, but she didn’t move an inch. She just tilted her chin up and looked me straight in the eyes. Oh she was so stubborn. Always has been. Most people would have run away by now, but not her.

​I stopped so close that I could see the tiny silver dots in her grey eyes. I leaned down until we were eye-to-eye. She didn’t blink. She didn’t even flinch.

​"What kind of punishment," I said, keeping my voice very calm and very scary, "do you think we should give your Second Hand lady? What’s fair for what she did?"

​That got her. I saw her eyes flicker for a split second. She tried to hide it, but I caught the flash of fear.

​I leaned in even closer, whispering right in her ear. "Should we hang her up? Or maybe we should just tie her feet and hang her upside down for a few hours? Let all the blood rush to her head until she learns how to speak to her Alpha."

​She didn’t say anything, just pressed her lips together in a tight line. She was trying so hard to look brave, but I could see the pulse in her neck. It was thumping fast, like the heart of a scared rabbit.

​My eyes moved to that spot on her neck, and then I couldn’t help it, I looked at her lips.

​A crazy thought popped into my head. I could kiss her. Right now. I could kiss her so hard that she’d forget all about being stubborn. My wolf started pacing inside me, wanting to claim her, wanting to pull her close and never let go. It would be so easy. Just one hand on her waist, and I could shut her up. I wanted to know what she tasted like. I wanted this war between us to just end.

​The feeling was so strong it actually scared me. I ground my teeth together, forcing my wolf back down.

No. She’s a problem. She’s a headache. She’s...

She was breathing softly. I could smell her skin soap and something sweet, like night-blooming jasmine. It was driving me crazy. She just kept looking at me, waiting for me to do something. The air in the room felt like it was about to catch fire.

​I suddenly stood up straight and backed away. The room felt way too hot all of a sudden.

​"That’s what I thought," I said. I turned my back on her so she couldn’t see my face. "Now get out of my room. And stop making so much noise."

​For a second, the room was totally silent. Then I heard the soft sound of her nightgown as she moved. I heard the quiet click of the door opening and then shutting.

​She was gone.

​I let out a long breath. I looked at the empty space by the window. I could still feel her there. I could still smell her in the air.

​I told myself I won. I made her back down. I showed her who the boss was.

​So why did it feel like I was the one who just lost everything?