37. The Prince.

The dark hallways suffocated him- if there was anything the male wanted; it was getting out of the place where he had been held as a prisoner. The place which he was forced to call home was nothing more than a cage for the young male. He strode through hallways with ease, even with his eyes closed, he could reach the destination within minutes. There wasn't a point to hold his eyes open or try to notice anything; the whole place was dark, never illuminated even a bit.
His father hated the light; the older male hated getting out of his cave, even when he had to look for his beloved one. His mother, on the other side, carved the brightness of days and nature. She, the same as the young male, felt trapped.

The male neared his destination, his breathing becoming heavier, scaring every creature hiding in the shadows. One by one, they parted their ways to stay away from the enraged male. Running into the Prince in the moment of the heat would be an instant death sentence. Many had tried to mess with him, mostly when he was just a child, but even more, had died from his blade.

The male didn't bother to knock on the large door; he kicked it open and invited himself in.

On the throne, as usual, sat his father, a wide grin plastered all over his face. His mother was nowhere to be seen; the male assumed she had left for the dose of nature. One like her couldn't live within shadows; she wasn't meant to stay there anyway. Everyone, asides the King, knew, understood, and accepted that.

"Son, it's a pleasure to see you. What is my troublemaker up to this time? Death? War and destruction? Genocide? You call it; I'm all ears." Fenrir stood up from the throne, taking a few steps closer to his son.

The older male expected for his only child to turn into the same monster as he was. The Underworld leader was vicious and cruel, rumoured to be worse than the Devil himself. Fenrir had a reputation to keep up with; he wouldn't risk anything to lose that part of his said personality.

"I'm not here for your bullshit, father. You know that I wouldn't come if the issue wouldn't keep bothering me. I don't like spending time with you or mother; I don't like being near two of you. Your constant closeness disgusts me to the fucking core, and I don't want to see more than I had seen already. Fuck your war and genocide, that's not the shit I'm thinking about now. The issue is bigger than your bratty ass attitude." The young male crossed his arms in front of his chest, showing off the muscular frame, which of course was same as his fathers. If there was at least one person who didn't show fear while facing Fenrir- it was his son. The Prince loved to challenge his father, pushing him over the edge. He was a daredevil, the closer he stood to the tip of the knife, the better he felt.

"Drop the attitude boy, and remember who's owning the throne. You might be the only heir, but until the day, when you sit your ass on that fucking oversized chair- you're inferior to me. Now, stop acting like a girl and explain what the hell pushed you to decide to see your old man. Last time we met, if I'm not mistaken, you kept yelling that you're not coming back here. So, what brought you here?" Even though his voice was low and full of warning, Fenrir kept grinning. The young male was acting the same as he did, around the same age. He could see himself in his early years. The thought pleased Fenrir, he wasn't caring or supportive father for a reason- his son had to become the same ruthless man as he was. The Underworld ruler expected to see an exact copy of himself, as the young male becomes older.
Even with women, if the Prince wouldn't treat his mate or beloved by specific standards- Fenrir might try to disown him. There was no place for care or affection in such a cruel world as one they ruled over. None of them could seem weak or show weakness at any cost.

"I don't give a shit about your superiority. Have a problem with me? Great, go, find mother and ask for another child. I'm sure she will be more than willing to carry another monster for you, especially after how you treated her, and how I turned out. Aside from your bullshit and pride talk, I have to find out one thing. Where is my Princess? A little birdy told me that certain someone called off the engagement. A fucking year, I waited for a fucking year to find out that I'm not getting what is mine. The Princess is mine!" The more he spoke, the deeper his voice became. The beautiful ocean blue color of his eyes faded, replaced by burning yellow.

Fenrir chuckled, watching the way his son's body shook in anger. He loved the yellow color; it was the natural warning for everyone to back off. Yellow meant safe, yet it turned into blood-red way too quickly, signalling the arrival of danger.

"Sit down; we can talk about this over a glass of vine. It's not like you have something more important to do anyway." The older male walked to the large table and sat at the end of it, waiting for his son to join.

The room fell silent, out of nowhere, a servant girl appeared, asking the ruler about his choice of drink. They had a short, casual discussion and the girl disappeared. Within two minutes, an older male opened the servant door and brought them a bottle of the vine, opening it and pouring some in two glasses. The male placed both in the middle of the table, took a tiny sip out of his pocket and poured himself a little vine. He drank it in one go and stood next to Fenrir. This was the only occasion when servants were allowed to look into his eyes without hesitation. The older male was their rabbit, tasting everything Underworld Royals were about to drink or eat.

"Your pupils, they're dilating. We won't drink this vine, take it away from here. As a matter of fact, we don't need anything right now. Go and see the doctor, Thomas, tell the girl to go with you. We can't let anything happen; I'm not in the mood to look for a new rabbit." Fenrir turned his attention to the young Prince and forgot about the older male in the room. Thomas left, taking the glasses and vine with him, grateful for the opportunity to live another day.

As soon as the male was out of their view, Fenrir stood up and approached a little cabinet next to his throne. He took a key out of his pocket and unlocked it, carefully eyeing whatever was hidden.
"Ah, there it is." He whispered, reaching for an old bottle of whiskey.

Fenrir sat back in his place, pored whiskey for himself and the young Prince and drank it in one go. The older male sighed, finally meeting his son's heated gaze.

"Gabriel, listen. I know, you can be quite hard to handle, but there are things which I can't change. You see, it seemed to be a rather good idea when my friend and I spoke about it. To say that the plan didn't quite go as we hoped would be an understatement. First of all, the Princess didn't take the news about the engagement with you quite easily. Not that I blame her; it did come rather unexpected." Fenrir opened his mouth, but his son was faster, beating his father mid-sentence.

"As if I care how she took the news. We had a deal- I need to get married, and I want her. That's not so difficult to understand, is it, father?" Gabriel grabbed the bottle of whiskey and freely refilled his glass, gulping the liquid down just as fast as his father did.

"Alright, forget that fact. The problem we faced was mothers. Her mother is against the arranged marriage, and so is yours. They will not give their approval to the wedding, so we called it off. Under a specific rule, of course. You'll still meet her as soon as she turns eighteen, and if you two feel something- you're free to get married. There is a tiny, little problem, though. Appeared last week, I assume." Fenrir copied his son's actions, gulping the sour liquid down. He wasn't in the mood to talk about nonsense, especially one that had been bothering him for more than a month.

Gabriel spent most of his time as far as possible. Both men didn't have a thing in common, other than pride and violent behaviour. If other parents fit with their kids like a hand in a glove- Fenrir and Gabriel definitely didn't. There was more hatred between them than used to be between enemies. They had a deal- Gabriel would come home every six months, faking loving family environment for the Underground Kingdom. He could arrive whenever he wanted if there was an issue or uncertainty about whatever was happening. His primary purpose was to get ready to take over the throne. But for that, he needed a beloved one, a wife, to carry his heir.
For creatures like them there weren't real emotions, only a couple things they could feel. Anger, desire and lust. That was enough for them to live and feel content, other emotions we're deemed to be a sign of weakness. Outsiders might not know that, but Lilith did; therefore, she was against Ally getting married to her son. She was too caught up in the Fenrirs world; the woman had no way out, so she hoped to save the young Princess.

"What if I don't want to wait anymore? What if I caught a glimpse of what could be mine and I want it? Now." Gabriel smirked, placing the glass back on the table. The young male raised an eyebrow, suggesting his father that he had managed to find Ally.

"You can be more than I'd like you to be, at times. Did you really sneak out just to see her? Have you lost your fucking mind? Listen, boy; I get it, you're powerful and more than capable of taking care of yourself, but this isn't the way how things are supposed to work. You're the only heir, many eyes are on you right now, especially ones of enemies. As for the Princess, wait and see, for now, we might face an issue. A pretty big one, at that, but I still need to find out more." Fenrir sighed, massaging his temples. The male loved to challenge his son; he loved to see how Gabriel stepped over every boundary he put in front of him, but some things were too much. It was a delicate time for the throne if the young male wouldn't take over within a year; many would come after them both.

"And what that might be? Her, falling in love with some crappy ass dude? I'm not worried about that if you're wondering. I knew that there is a possibility of her finding someone, shifters are weak, they follow their heart, not mind. Love come and go, that's not an emotion I could ever consider as an actual threat to my future plans." Gabriel laughed, standing up and turning his back to Fenrir.

The young male was about to leave without giving any explanation. He was silently planning how to get out again, how to find out what was happening. If the Princess fell in love- he had to take care of the problem, starting from its core. Gabriel would kill the man who could become his competition. Not that he saw anyone as worthy enough.
He took a step closed to the massive door when his father cleared his throat. The discussion wasn't over; there was something more that had to be said.

"What more?" Gabriel rolled his eyes and turned around to face his father. He didn't move from the spot, throwing death stares at Fenrir. Whatever it was, the young male thought it could wait; there wasn't anything more important than what he wanted to do.

"You wouldn't want to know who the man is, would you?" The spark of mischief danced in Fenrir's eyes. He knew more than Gabriel did, making him the superior male between the two. The thought alone amused Fenrir if there was one thing he loved- it was messing with his son's short temper.

"And you do know that, huh? Alright, go on, entertain me." Gabriel crossed his arms in front of his chest once again. The young Prince was more than ready to storm away from the hell hole his father called home.

"Of course I do. I'm the ruled of the Underworld for a reason, don't you think? I have eyes and ears everywhere. In fact, your toys tried to kill the pretty little Princess just a while ago. How did they get out, you might ask? Easy, the one who had set his eyes on your prized possession killed the gatekeepers. I'd love to see you, coming face to face with Wrath himself. Son, you're playing a dangerous game here. The deadly sin is after her; they are probably already bonded together, who knows. I'd suggest to give up; there are enough fishes in the see. No need to be so stubborn."

"Of course, father," Gabriel smirked, turning around again and stomping to the door. He kicked the door open again and stood in the doorway, turning his head back and showing off the wicked grin.

"He might be a sin, but I sure would love to see him facing the fallen angel. Make sure you grab the camera; this is going to be fun."