Chapter 3

Travis stood in front of his mansion's front door with a blank stare. He looked like shit; his shirt was soaked to the skin, his jeans were caked with mud, and yet he couldn't care less on what he looked like right now. All he knew was that he felt dead, lifeless and if it was possible, he felt like his life had no meaning or purpose. 

Series of thoughts fleeted in his mind, and unfortunately, none of them made sense at the moment, but the only thing that stood out was the need to vent out. He was on edge, angry and most of all, he felt like destroying something. 

He was like a bull ready to charge on the matador. 

With that rage stirring in him, he flung the front door open with bang and there, he had the perfect idea for letting out his rage. 

He was going to trash the fucking place up. 

A wicked grin spread across Travis lips when he charged towards the first thing he had his sights on - a 200 year old grandfather clock. His dad had a thing for the classicist and rustic furnishing. He took great pride with his taste and every single damn thing in this mansion was freaking antique. Travis knew he was going to be in loads of trouble when his dad found out that his beloved antiques were destroyed, but did he care with the aftermath? 

No, he didn't care at all. 

With that, Travis headed for the ginormous clock and when he reached it, he gripped the sides of it and threw it, using his werewolf strength to the other side of the room with a loud crash. He took in the damage he had done and he felt appeased, seeing the broken pieces of that once proud clock that his father purchased at some antique dealer. He looked around for his next victim and when he did, he chuckled humorlessly. 

His mother's expensive vases. 

As Travis picked one up, he wasted no time as he flung it in no particular direction and he then picked another and flung it in a similar fashion. It was a repetitive cycle and he was nowhere near done with his rampage. 

He was definitely on the roll. 

Once Travis noticed he ran out of vases to break, he turned his attention to his mom's Swarovski crystal figurines. Now that was something interesting to break. His mother kept them in a cabinet to keep out of harm's way, considering a lot of wolves - with young ones too boot -  were staying at the mansion. She couldn't afford to have one missing - or worse - broken so she had them placed in a mahogany cabinet, all lined up in an organized fashion, so without further ado, he went over to the cabinet, opened it and had a party throwing them everywhere. It was raining crystals, and he couldn't wait to see his mother's face when she found out that her precious figurines had turned into shards. 

While Travis was on his rampage streak, he didn't notice his father's pissed off Alpha aura, making the air crackle like electricity. 

Uh-oh. 

"Travis James Vinova!" a deep, gruff voice yelled out. "What the hell are you doing?!" 

Travis stiffened at his father's voice then relaxed immediately, showing he wasn't afraid. He had Alpha blood running through his veins and that menacing voice didn't affect him. He turned around slowly and there he was, his father, Trenton Vinova, standing a few feet away from him with his arms crossed over his chest, and boy was he pissed... 

Trenton Liam Vinova was a very intimidating man. He was massive, up-to-par to a linebacker's build. He stood around six-foot-four, had black tousled hair, cold and calculating sky blue eyes and his facial features were sharp and chiseled. He was a good-looking forty-year-old man and Travis inherited his looks from him. 

As Trenton stood there, he couldn't believe what his son had done to the place. He just got back from his Alpha duties and he was greeted with his house looking like it had been overrun by a fucking hurricane. 

When his sights landed on the broken pieces of his beloved grandfather's clock, his eyes went wide as an owl then narrowed into thin slits. 

That cost him a fortune, and now it was a worthless piece of junk. 

"Are you trying to destroy the house, Travis?" Trenton asked his son, anger lining in his tone. "Do you know how expensive that clock was?!" 

Travis scoffed at his father's insensitivity. All he cared about was his prized possession and social upstanding. Nothing more, nothing less. 

"Is that all you cared about, Father?" Travis asked, shaking with rage. "You are one heartless motherfucker." 

With his anger, Travis was on the verge of doing something damaging, like punching his father's face. It was a tempting thought and he invited it with open arms, so without hesitation, he strode towards his father without missing a beat. His strides were long and fast as he curled his hands into fists, and when he reached to where he was standing, he raised his fist and rammed it across his father's face, right in the kisser. 

Travis didn't care about morals at this point. As society pointed out, the young should respect their elders, much less say anything deplorable to them, but he was beyond caring. His father didn't deserve respect. He had ruined his life by molding him into someone that he hated so much. 

And it cost him his mate. 

"Travis!" Trenton growled as he touched the sore spot where his son had punched him. "Have you gone insane?" 

"I hate you, Father," Travis spat at him. "I hate you so much, and I will never forgive you!" 

Trenton growled. His son had stepped the line and had disrespected his Alpha. He gave him everything and this was how he was repaid? 

What an ungrateful child. 

"You inconsiderate brat!" Trenton roared and raised his hand to strike his son, but before it reached Travis' face, his son caught his wrist to stop him. 

"I don't care if I'm ungrateful. Your expectations cost me my mate and it's all your fault!" Travis seethed, still gripping his father's wrist tightly. 

Trenton smirked. He knew that his son had found his mate. He had spies watching his son and his mate's every move, and it was only a matter of time something like this would happen. 

He had something up his sleeve. 

"And where is she right now, then?" Trenton mocked him, already knowing the answer. "Where is she, huh?" 

Travis glared at his father. He was definitely pushing his buttons. "You know what, father? you can shove the Alpha inheritance up your ass. I don't need it," and let go of his father's wrist. 

Trenton chuckled humorlessly, already anticipating that answer. "Oh son, you don't have much of a choice." 

"Yes I do," Travis hissed. 

Again, Trenton could only laugh and he did it with gusto. His son had no idea what's in store for him and he was pretty sure that he wouldn't like one bit of it, but he didn't care. It was all about image and status and he would be damned his name would be tarnished all because of his son's stupid mate. 

Serena was good for nothing. 

Carmela, however, was a good match for Travis. 

She had the makings of a great Alpha Female, character wise and looks. 

Mate or not, he didn't care. 

It was picture perfect. 

As Trenton regained himself, he stared straight at his son's eyes and said with a tone that he meant business, "There's going to be a party tomorrow. Dress something nice." 

Travis grunted. "I'm not going." 

"You have no say," Trenton retorted with a smirk on his face. "Even if you don't attend, I'll force you to come." 

"Whatever," Travis muttered, then spun on his heel and walked away, not giving his father a second glance.