310
Tony
As I stepped into the sterile confines of the meeting room, I felt every cell in my body go on alert. It was like I was seeing Oren and Cline, truly, for the first time. Threats. Danger. Kin.
How had I never noticed how similar Cline looked to Oren? They could have been brothers. Were they? I had no idea. Oren had never talked about having family beyond us.
A wolf howled at the pack of my head, a warning and a battle cry. War had been an apt way to describe this, and Oren looked like he had already won.
The bastard wouldn't be winning a damn thing if I had anything to say about it. I didn't bother to shake either of their hands. I took a seat across from Cline, leaving the seat across from Oren for Mr. D'Amico. His eye twitched, and then his eyes narrowed. Cline shifted, looking oddly stuffed in his suit. Both of them looked like the suits were wearing them like they were just pretending to be civil, but that was because they were. I glared at Cline, who didn't look away.
The air was heavy with the tense silence. Oren leaned back in his chair, a predatory smile playing on his lips.
Mr. D'Amico settled into the seat and sighed. "I allowed this meeting, but--"
"Let's cut to the chase, shall we?" Oren said, a glint of steel flickering in his eyes. "You're going to turn over the entirety of your company to me. Now."
The room seemed to shrink, the air thickening with unspoken threats.
Mr. D'Amico's jaw clenched, his gaze hardening like glacial ice. "And why would you think I would ever be desperate enough or willing to do that?"
Oren scoffed a cold, humorless sound. "Who said anything about being willing? I'm telling you what you will do and that you don't have a choice. You know how much power I have over the Council. With one word, I could destroy you."
"The Council doesn't have any power over a human company."
He laughed. "The Council has power over everything. At least, it will soon enough, and you'd be better off on my good side. Why do you seem so surprised?" Oren's gaze flicked to me, a sneer twisting his features. "Why else would I send my son here other than to get a grasp on the situation?"
What the fuck did he just--
The air crackled with unspoken accusations, the weight of Oren's words a physical blow. A wave of nausea washed over me, and quickly after that was fury. All my energy had been put into earning Mr. D'Amico's trust to make sure I could provide for Quillan and Ginevra if she survived... To have him come in here on his power trip and pretend like I was part of his plan was the last fucking straw.
Before I could open my mouth, Oren's eyes, cold and calculating, locked with mine. A subtle shift, a flicker of power, and I felt it – the insidious tendrils of the alpha compulsion slithering into my mind, seeking to bend my will to his.
But where there should have been fear, there was only fury. A primal roar echoed in me. I felt it pushing and pulling and resisted. I saw Ginevra, blood-stained, her eyes looking up at me, struggling to breathe through the pain. The silver dagger-- the dagger I now remembered giving her so long ago for protection and peace, the glint of the little dandelion hanging from her neck-- I could hear her ragged breathing.
Heard her heart beating, and that promise echoed through me. I snarled, the sound raw and primal, ripping through the suffocating silence. With a surge of adrenaline, I shoved the compulsion back, its icy grip dissolving like smoke.
Oren's eyes widened with genuine surprise. His eyes narrowed. I saw it starting like a flicker of light in his eyes.
"Fuck off," I growled. "How fucking dare you, after everything you've done to me, come in here and pretend like I'm your fucking errand boy."
"You--"
I slammed my hands down, standing and glaring at him.
"Shut up!"
His voice died, and his eyes widened. Cline gasped. It wasn't enough. The power surging through me, boiling over, made my skin feel like it was too tight as I glared down at him. Not even close. The years of manipulation, the years of suffering, the uncertainty and hell I was living through right now clawed at me, and he was more than just a participant in it.
"You've taken everything from me," I growled. "You've taken everything from Matt. You've destroyed and pillaged your way through our lives, and it stops. Now. You think you understand fury and menace. You think anyone is frightened of you? I wasn't afraid of you when I took you down then, and I'm damn sure not now."
The memory of that attack flashed through my mind.
"I spared you," I growled. "And every breath you take is making me regret it more and more. You're not going to get another chance to take a damn thing from anyone."
Oren snarled. "I--"
"Mark me, Oren." He jolted. His eyes flickered. "I'm coming for you, and this time, I'm not going to stop at your dignity or your pack," I hissed. "I'm not going to let someone haul you off to life in comfort at some facility somewhere else. You're going to repay every drop of blood you've taken, every tear you've caused, and every second of agony Quillan's had to endure because of you. You and your pack are going rue the day any of you decided to cross me. I will take Chance from you, the Estate, every piece of property and leave you running around in the forest like the barbarian you are, with nothing but the moonlight and whoever is dumb enough to follow an alpha like you."
"You think you took me down? You were a child. I let you win."
I narrowed my eyes. "I'm not a child anymore. Let's test your lie."
His eyes flickered.
With a final, venomous glare, Oren rose to his feet, meeting my gaze. His eyes glowed in his face. His teeth seemed monstrous as he bared them. I could see the shift rippling over his face, yet there was no fear. It took everything in me not to rip his throat out.
"You'll regret this."
"No," I said, meeting his gaze. "You will. Get. Out."
He pulled back and stormed out. Cline looked at me with wide eyes, but he followed Oren out as he left. The echoing silence was ringing in my ears. I was shaking still. I could feel my claws biting into my palms. The anger was buzzing in my ears. Then, an incredulous hum pulled me out of the anger. I looked at Mr. D'Amico, who looked at me impressed and gobsmacked.
"What?"
"I was told that that alpha compulsion was practically impossible to ignore between family members... especially your patriarch, and it pissed you off." He grinned. "I'm not sure if I'm looking at a strong-minded man or a truly furious alpha."
I blinked. The words stunned me because he was right. That would have been impossible if I had ever considered Oren my alpha, my father. Maybe it had been broken when he'd attacked Ginevra, that connection, but that didn't feel accurate.
Ginevra's attack wasn't when I'd stopped thinking of him as my father. I pressed my hand to my chest. Something felt different. That surge of power, that anger… That had been new or old and resurfaced. It all felt fresh and furious.
I could see him standing over me. I heard myself screaming in pain. The snap of bone, the smell of blood. Then, I saw her face. Our mother ran toward me, shielding me. I heard her screaming. I saw flashes of light and darkness. I saw her face, determined, bruised, and furious. The light was warm, spreading through me as blood ran down from her nose.
"And the way he shut up… did you use the compulsion on him?" His eyes bulged, sparkling, and giddy.
I blinked at him. "I… I don't know."
If I had, I hadn't intended to.
"Well, doesn't matter. Well played. I'd pick your brain to ask what the hell all of that was about, but how about a drink instead before I kick you out for the rest of the day?"
I scoffed. "You can't be serious, I—"
"As far as I'm concerned, kid," he pat my shoulder and gestured to where Oren and Cline had been. "You've done enough work for a week. A few hours is nothing. Come on. Have a drink with me, and maybe I'll let you tell me how you plan to take Chance before the end of the year."
I reared back as he walked back. "The end of the year?"
He leaned back into the doorway with a wild grin.
"After a speech like that? You can't very well wait for a five-year plan!"
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