"You let her escape?!"
Lucas barely flinched as his father, Maximus Crisen, smashed his whiskey glass onto the marble-tiled ground. Breaking items in anger was an antic he was used to ever since he was a child, so he expected it.
"It wasn't as straightforward as you think, Father," Lucas explained calmly. "Eliza knew we came after her, so she drew us into Moonshadow territory. We nearly got into a scuffle with them, even. Then the witch showed up from nowhere and broke up the fight before it began."
"Moonshadows?" Maximus paused his frantic pacing, looking to his son as if expecting some kind of good news. "My informant tells me Davion's heir has returned to West Grove. Was she there?"
Lucas's jawline went taut. He knew the reason for his father's curiosity and braced himself for the repercussions. "Yes, she was."
Maximus gave him an intense questioning look. "Well? Were you able to deny the fool's chances of a succession? Did you end her pathetic life?"
Lucas cast his gaze downwards. "I couldn't, Father. Eliza stopped us. Otherwise, I would've brought Leona's body before you without wasting any time."
"Leona," spat Maximus, like the name contained a bitter taste in his mouth. "You failed to execute the witch, you fumbled a golden opportunity to eliminate our enemy's bloodline, and you think a proper compensation for your glaring inadequacies is telling me her name?"
Despite his blood boiling, Lucas stayed quiet. Defending his actions would only make him appear more incompetent. He remained rooted in the middle of his father's impressively large study, watching him walk over to his table and pour himself another glass of whiskey.
"If there's nothing else you can say to disappoint me further, then you should leave," he said harshly as he sipped from his glass and watched the setting sun through an enormous oval window.
It was Lucas's cue to leave, and he should've taken it. But he wasn't eager to exit the room.
"Eliza mentioned something, Father. She called it a warning, and she felt it was dire enough to lure both packs to hear her out."
Maximus barely spared him a glance. "Is that so?"
"Yes, Father. She spoke about a new enemy, one so powerful that it would take both Moonshadows and Bloodclaws to defeat."
Maximus laughed bitterly. "The petty old hag. She's been trying to get me to end the feud with those unworthy dogs for years. Now she cooks up a story to make it look like we have no choice. How pathetic."
Lucas didn't appear convinced. "Oracles wield magic powerful enough to help them see the future. Or, at least, traces of it. How do we know she isn't telling the truth?"
Maximus's hand froze just as he was about to take another sip. "And your point is?"
Lucas should've recognized the icy tone from his father and dropped the conversation immediately, but he was too distracted to notice.
"Maybe we should deliberate over her words," he suggested innocently. "She might've gone too far with her actions, but there has to be a reason for that. Perhaps she has seen that this is the only way we'd listen to her and—"
The words died in Lucas's throat as he suddenly lost his ability to speak. He couldn't breathe as well, falling to his knees as he wheezed for air. Maximus turned to his son with his eyes blazing like burning embers. Lucas realized he was under the influence of his father's power, crumbling as he exerted his absolute dominance. Save another alpha, no werewolf could withstand the effects of the Alpha Force, so Lucas knew he was at the mercy of his father.
"You stand there, bold and stupidly arrogant, and choose the side of a traitor?" Maximus spoke quietly, but he didn't need to raise his voice to show his rage. "If you weren't my son, boy, I would've slit your throat where you stood. Your mother would be turning in her grave knowing the kind of embarrassment you've become."
Maximus released him from his telepathic grip, and Lucas took a long, deep breath into his grateful lungs. He shakily got to his feet, giving his father a gaze that conveyed profound shock and disbelief.
"Since you've become so terrified like a helpless woman," Maximus continued, "then you should fortify our defenses and bring in recruits if necessary. There are many young, energetic men and women here who'd want nothing more than an opportunity to die for a noble cause. Whatever you wish to do, I couldn't care less. But the next time you suggest I listen to that witch, or even think about working with those pitiful Moonshadows, I will not hesitate to execute you myself. Now get out."
Lucas, still stunned by his father's actions, didn't hesitate to leave this time. He charged out of the massive house, crossing the wide forecourt with quick strides. He got into the passenger seat of a vehicle parked at the end of the driveway, slammed the door shut so hard that the car rocked slightly, and roared in frustration.
Three of his friends—who'd been waiting in the car—just stared at him without a word for minutes.
"Rough day?" The one behind the wheel finally asked.
"Don't start with your senseless questions, Stefan," Lucas snarled. "I'm not in the mood."
"I don't think anyone's ever in the mood for Stefan and his questions," an amused voice supplied from the backseat. "No one fancies things that lower their IQ."
"Oh, shut up, Oliver," Stefan snapped.
Oliver snickered. "But I'll tell you what everyone can be in the mood for: drinks and loud music. What say ye, Aria?"
The only girl in the group sat quietly with Oliver in the back seat, casting worried glances at Lucas through her messy, reddish-brown hair. "I'm down if Lucas is down."
Oliver turned to Lucas. "Brother? Why don't we go blow off some steam? I know the perfect place."
Lucas simply stared ahead with so much intensity that it seemed like he was trying to set the mansion ablaze with his mind.
"As long as Stefan doesn't drive slowly," he finally replied.
Stefan grinned as he started the car and revved the engine. "Sounds better than a yes to me."
Meanwhile, Maximus remained in his study, polishing the last drops of whiskey from his glass. His phone suddenly started buzzing on the mahogany table, and the unknown caller ID made him wear his usual frown. When he answered the call, however, his eyes widened and the whiskey glass nearly fell from his grasp.
"Maximus, old friend. It's Davion. We need to talk immediately."