Chapter 137: A Not So Good Week

Oril Pov

This is unbelievable, I held my coffee in my hands sighing deeply, Torin... I swear he’s always doing something that is detrimental to the pack, Always. He never consults anyone for doing anything. Kei, Augi and I were all in the kitchen equally exhausted after Walter’s heat.

Walter was still fast asleep in his nest, it usually takes him a good day to regain energy after his heat. Which was good cause we were going to need that day to fix what Torin has done, again.

Every single social media platform, news outlet, and High Court gossip forum had the exact same video pinned to the top of their feed. Torin standing behind a podium, looking straight into a sea of flashing camera bulbs, and declaring Lorali Alma as his fated Omega to the entire world.

"I still don’t understand how the hell this happened," Keion muttered, his fingers white-knuckled around his glass of water as he scrolled through thousands of viral comments. "Erin said he was watching him. Why didn’t he say anything about the press conference when I called him?"

"Because Erin isn’t your friend!" I snapped, my voice a harsh, furious whisper vibrating through my teeth. I slammed my palm against the marble kitchen counter, making the glass jars rattle. "Erin will always side with Torin! He’s Torin’s friend, Keion, not ours! If Torin told Erin to hold the door open while he set the house on fire, Erin would ask if he needed a lighter!"

Augi sat at the kitchen island, his jaw clenched tight, staring blankly at the screen. He didn’t say a word, but the deep, dangerous ridge between his eyebrows spoke volumes. He was furious. We all were.

"Look at this mess!" I hissed, shoving my phone directly into Keion’s face. "Look at the headlines! ’Spade Pack Second Omega Is From Alma.’ ’Alpha Torin Calls Reporter A Heretic.’ Our entire pack has been dragged straight into the public spotlight! Every pack in the region knows our business now!"

"Oril, calm down," Keion whispered, glancing nervously down to his trembling hands. "You’re going to wake Walter, and if he hears this right now, he’ll tear the doors off their hinges. He is still mad about the vases."

"I don’t give a damn!" I barked, taking a furious step closer to Keion. "Torin sacrificed the safety and reputation of this entire pack just to get in the good books of that lying witch and save his stupid company! He doesn’t care how any of this affects Walter or the rest of us!"

"Maybe, he was trying to manage a crisis, Oril," Keion said weakly, though even his own voice lacked conviction. "If Spade Industries falls, we have no money."

"To hell with Spade Industries!" I spat. "We’re constantly reminded about that stupid company. We have to be grateful to Torin because that company funds our entire life but I don’t care anymore. I am tired of letting that company depict our lives. To hell with it. It caused all of this."

Augi finally let out a low, dangerous growl, setting his phone screen-down on the counter. "Oril’s right, Keion. Torin crossed the line this time. He acted without the pack’s consent. Again."

"Thank you!" I threw my hands up in the air. "At least someone in this house hasn’t lost their damn mind—"

The heavy front doors of the penthouse clicked open and Torin walked in, the bastard had the audacity to look calm after what he did.

He walked into the kitchen, tossing his coat over the back of a chair. Now that he was closer I could tell he was exhausted, his dark tie loosened at his collar, shadows under his eyes, but the second his dark gaze swept over the three of us standing in the kitchen, his posture hardened putting on a semi strong persona. "Why are you all just standing here?" Torin asked, his voice low and raspy. "Is Walter still in bed?"

"Don’t worry about Walter," I said, stepping out from behind the kitchen island, my blood boiling so hot I felt I could melt onto the floor at any moment. "Worry about explaining to us why the entire country is currently talking about your press conference."

Torin let out a heavy, irritated sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "I don’t have the energy for this tonight, Oril. I did what had to be done."

"’What had to be done’?" I let out a harsh, disbelieving laugh, taking three aggressive steps toward him. "You declared Lorali Alma as your fated on live television! Without asking us! You exposed the entire pack to public scrutiny just to save your stock value! Torin I don’t get you, what is your deal? Seriously it’s like you are plotting against your pack."

"I did it to save the company!" Torin barked, his voice rising, his Alpha aura flaring in the quiet room like a sudden pulse of heat. "Investors were pulling out, stock values were plummeting by the minute! If Spade Industries goes under, we lose everything! Do you have any idea what happens to this pack if our stock crashes to zero?"

"Don’t give me that corporate savior bullshit, Torin!" I yelled, completely ignoring his flaring aura, stepping right into his personal space. "You didn’t do this to save our lifestyle! You didn’t do this for Walter or the pack! You did it because you’re arrogant and reckless! You drag our personal lives into the press whenever you screw up, and then expect us to clap for you!"

Torin’s eyes snapped to mine, turning dark, dangerous, and utterly feral. "Watch your tongue, Oril."

"Why? Because it’s the truth?" I sneered right in his face, my chest heaving with years of built-up resentment. "You’re obsessed with playing the powerful Alpha on TV! You were so terrified of looking weak in front of the worldthat you publicly claimed that girl on live television without a second thought! You sacrificed our privacy, Walter’s peace, and this pack’s reputation just to keep your damn stock prices afloat!"

"I SAID SHUT UP!" Torin roared.

Before he could finish the sentence, the restraint in his eyes completely snapped. Torin lunged forward, throwing his full weight into a brutal shove that sent me crashing backward into the heavy oak dining table. The wooden chairs scattered with a deafening screech, splintering against the floorboards.

"Oril! Torin! Stop!" Keion yelled, sprinting forward to intervene, but Augi caught Keion by the shoulder, dragging him back.

"Let them," Augi growled softly, his eyes fixed on the two of us. "This has been coming for months." I scrambled up from the collapsed table, wiping a smear of blood off my lip, a dark, vicious grin spreading across my face. "Hit like an Alpha, Torin! Come on!"

I threw myself at him. My fist cracked squarely across Torin’s jaw, throwing his head back, but he didn’t even stumble. He absorbed the blow, wrapped his massive hands around the front of my shirt, and slammed me hard against the wall. The breath exploded from my lungs in a sharp, painful gasp.

Torin pulled his arm back, his fist cocked, his dark eyes glowing with pure, unchecked instinct. "I am the head of this pack!" he snarled into my face, his knuckles trembling with rage. "I make the calls that keep a roof over your head! You don’t get to question my motives!"

"You’re a coward!" I choked out through gritted teeth, spitting blood onto his collar. "You’re tearing this pack apart from the inside out, and you’re too blind to see it!"

Torin raised his fist to strike me again, his jaw set in a lethal line—

CLICK.

The front doors of the penthouse swung wide open.

The sharp, loud, rhythmic clatter of high-heeled boots echoed across the silent marble foyer, cutting through the thick, bloody tension in the room like a razor blade.

Torin’s fist froze in mid-air. I held my breath, my back still pressed against the cold wall, both of us turning our heads toward the entrance. Standing in the frame of the doorway was Lorali.

She looked entirely transformed. Her hair was a glossy, liquid-purple waterfall cascading over a sharply tailored blazer, high-waisted trousers, and soaring leather heels. She held herself with an terrifying, effortless poise, a faint, amused smirk playing on her lips as her cold dark eyes took in the scene before her—the overturned chairs, the blood on my lip, and Torin holding me against a wall like a street brawler.

"My, my," Lorali drawled, her voice smooth, silky, and dripping with absolute venom. "Look at the big, strong Spade pack. Fighting like wild dogs in their own living room."

She stepped fully into the penthouse, not even glancing back as she held the door open behind her.

Following two paces behind her, walking like a broken shadow, his head bowed, his hands clasped tightly behind his back in absolute submission, was Oracle.

His face was covered in fresh purple bruises and jagged cuts from his time behind bars, his clothes torn, his pride utterly pulverized. None of us even knew he got out prison, yet here he was.

He didn’t look at Torin. He didn’t look at me, Keion, or Augi. His eyes remained glued firmly to the floor precisely one step behind Lorali’s left heel, standing like a trained hound waiting for its master’s next command.

Lorali crossed her arms over her chest, leaning her shoulder against the doorframe, her gaze sweeping over Torin’s frozen, bloody form.

"Don’t let me interrupt," she murmured, a lethal, glittering smile spreading across her face. "Please... continue."