THIRD PERSON'S POV Jamal watched the mated folks dancing away on the dance floor. It was a waltz, and they were doing it with grace. Watching them was entertaining. And he would have joined in the dance if he had a partner. But again, that was funny and a little bit of a lie, because a lot of girls had asked to dance with him and he turned them down, with the repeated lie that he was here with someone and she was just outside getting some fresh air. He had started by telling them that he wasn't in the mood, but that didn't work. They all seemed to want to put him in the mood. So he took a detour and told a better lie. And it was succeeding in keeping them off him all through the night. They weren't who he would have loved to dance with. So he'd rather be left alone. It was just him and his drinks. And of course, his thoughts. The unfiltered thoughts of Jordy were crashing down the resolve he had built since he left the Pack. This was his last night in Black Reeves Pa
THIRD PERSON'S POV "Go take a shower, Zach. It's almost noon. We should get going." "Leave me alone." Zach mumbled, stuffing his face into his pillows with an exaggerated groan. Jamal buttoned his shirt and took one last look in the mirror before going to join him on the bed. He softly rubbed Zach's back. "Let me say this again. I'm sorry about last night. But I was saving your ass, man. You should be grateful. Hitch almost caught you with his girl in that restroom." "But he didn't…" "Yes, he didn't. He didn't catch you stealing glances at her all through the night either. He didn't notice you giving her champagne just so you could brush your fingers against hers. He didn't see you subtly sniffing her like you wanted to gobble her up. He didn't see you slipping a note into her hand when we were saying goodbye to them. He didn't see anything last night. And that makes me wonder if he's just plain stupid or fucking blind." Jamal ended his rambling with a snort and stood
KING ARLO'S POV The door slowly opened and Brandy walked into my bedroom, dressed in shorts ripped at the thighs and a lacy top that left nothing to the imagination. It's been three days since I returned to my Pack. I couldn't summon her because I didn't have enough patience for any kind of talk with her. So I strictly ordered them to keep her in the guest quarters until I was mentally ready to meet her. Today, I was mentally ready and that was why I asked them to tell her to go wait in my study. Seeing her right now in my bedroom sent a surge of disgust through my windpipe and I couldn't control the rough hiss that I let out. "I asked you to go wait for me in my study. Not come to my bedroom." I stood from the bed but she quickly came to me, and I involuntarily plumped my butt back on the bed. "Arlo, please…" She was in front of me, with her hands on my shoulders. Her blue eyes were drenched in tears, which I knew were as fake as everything else about her. What was sh
MESSIAH JORDY'S POV I felt a little uneasy joining my parents on the balcony of their bedroom. There were three deck chairs there and they already had two occupied. Mother on one and Father on the other. The last one was for me and I sat quietly, intertwining my fingers. Father looked terrible. He couldn't even grab the glass of water on the small table. Mother had to reach for it and feed him the water. Ever since Arlo told me to look out for him and that he wasn't feeling too good, I started watching him closely. And now, it was a no-brainer. Father was sick. Terribly sick. But the frustrating thing had to be the fact that he wouldn't let me get the Pack doctor to come and check on him. He didn't want to go to the Pack's hospital either. He preferred being locked up in his room with just Mother by his side. I couldn't help but feel like they were trying to make the most of the time they had together. Like, they wanted to spend as much time as they could in each other'
THIRD PERSON'S POV Jamal lingered at the door, patiently waiting. It was taking longer than he'd expected and the wait was killing him. But the man had given strict orders that he stay outside. So he couldn't go in, no matter how badly he was craving to. He crouched again, covering his face with his clammy hands and saying a silent prayer. Crazy how being desperate made one do even the unthinkable. Praying had never been something he did. Ever. He was too much of a realist to believe some supernatural being would drop down and take care of all his problems. Growing up, he had to fix most of his problems on his own. Or his Father would. But somebody would. He never left it in the hands of any supernatural being. But right now, he was at his wit's end. Returning to the Pack had been more horrible than he imagined. Finding his Mother weak had started as something trivial until days later and she was slowly getting worse. He went to get the Pack's doctor but he was nowhe
THIRD PERSON'S POV "Father?" Jamal had a momentary shock at the sight. What was his Father doing at a hotel? And why was he dressed all sophisticated again? Who was this friend he always had to meet that made him have to look very different? Almost recognizable. Curious as hell, Jamal couldn't keep his questions to himself, so he turned to the receptionist. "Luther Beaconsfield. Is he checked in here?" The receptionist was slightly put off by the sudden rigidity in his tone. But she took another second to check her list and nodded. "Yes, he is. Are you here for him or you're here to see Mr. Davidson Clark? He said he'll be out in a few minutes." "Sure. Thank you." Jamal nodded curtly and was going to walk away. But the crazy questions kept haunting his mind and he was back to pestering the receptionist. "I'm really sorry for the extra trouble…" he chirped in an apology, at the slight squeeze in her face. Subtly, he took out a wad of dollar notes and slid it to her. "
THIRD PERSON'S POV The room grew tighter and suffocating for Jamal. He felt the ground was twirling but in reality, it was his mind and his eyes. They were twirling off balance, pushing a disastrous wave of panic into his mind. He cleaned his tears. More came down and he wiped them off with a low, throaty cuss. This was a confrontational moment. He shouldn't cry. It would make him come off as weak. Knowing his father well enough, he might mock him for it. "Son…" "What exactly are you doing with her?" Jamal asked, cutting off whatever he had to say. It was crazy for him to insist on knowing more. Knowing she was there to see his father was eating him up already. It just might kill him to know that there was indeed some dirty shit between them. He shouldn't do this to himself. He shouldn't ruin his peace of mind this way. He shouldn't hurt himself like this. But sadly, he had no choice. He had to know everything. He had to know what else his father had done aside from ruin
THIRD PERSON'S POV Three hours later, Jamal was approaching a huge, green gate attached to a high fence that circled the mansion standing taller inside the compound. The tarred road was serene. Other mansions stood a good distance away from each other on both sides of the road. It was a high-end area. Almost like a resort. Jamal stepped out of the car, banging the door shut with his jaw scraping the ground. It was the most shocking revelation of the night. Spending hours just to find his father's dirty little secret had just turned out to be more than he bargained. The house. The area. It was awfully and nostalgically familiar to him. It was one of their family houses. They always came here when his father wanted to get away from his duties and needed time alone. Or when it was a holiday. This was his family's bonding spot. But now, his father was using it for his hanky-panky business? Of all the houses they owned, why did he choose to taint this one with his dirty sec
THIRD PERSON'S POV “Careful, Mother.” Jamal put out a hand, helping his mother out of the cab. She was covered in thick clothing and was still as skinny. But she had smiles that went deep into her eyes, a good sign of recuperation, both physically and psychologically. He watched as the driver pulled their luggage from the car and two of the men he'd brought along were taking care of them. Staring at the crowded airport, Jamal felt a heavy sense of melancholia. Growing up, he'd never thought he'd be here. His Father had given him traditional teachings and had repeatedly told him how he'd be in charge of the Pack someday, so he shouldn't bother getting knowledge of things happening outside the pack. How much he'd believed that. Standing here, with his passport in his hands, ready to leave, was a twist he never saw coming. “Let's go inside, son.” His mother urged him. He nodded, linking their hands and taking another glance back. As badly as he wanted to leave this Pack
MESSIAH JORDY'S POV TWO WEEKS LATER “He's so beautiful,” The nanny mused. I glanced at her and nodded with a teary smile, before returning my gaze to my baby. “Yes, he is. Isn't he?” My Reon Arlo Jnr. had to be the prettiest baby I've ever seen. Rapidly growing, he was already taking a few steps and was making baby babbles. Right now, dressed to the nines, he was in his crib, playing with his toys and laughing out loud. He had an amazing laugh. His smiles were heavenly. I could sit all day just watching him, and I've been doing exactly that in the last few days. Enjoying being a mother. Enjoying being a wife and a mate. Enjoying freedom. After Luther's death, I left our Pack. It wasn't an easy choice, though, as the elders and the people pleaded that I stay back and lead them. Arlo wouldn't give in to their request. According to him, he made a promise to my mother to free me from the shackles that being born as royalty put on me. He vowed to rescue me from the p
MESSIAH JORDY’S POV The interrogation hall was crowded, awaiting my entry. All the elders of the pack were present. All the sentinels, all the higher-ranked individuals, and a few representatives for the masses. Literally every single person that contributed to the growth of this Pack was present, and I was having almost a panic attack going out there. Again, I looked down at my outfit, teary-eyed anew by it. When Arlo and Jamal had planned on taking over the pack, and when I suggested helping them out, I just wanted to give them ideas and have the satisfaction of knowing that they cut off Luther’s minions and successfully handed him to the elders to be punished by the law. I wasn’t really dreaming to be part of it. I just wanted to experience it. But then, I had the shock of my life when Gamma Micah and a few elders came to see me at Arlo’s Pack. They told me about Luther being captured and made the most unbelievable offer of me, being the one to interrogate and punish hi
Third person’s POV Luther studied his son wondering how he managed to birth such a useless weakling. His mother wasn’t always weak. Maybe it was his relationship with those bastards; Jordy, Zach and Zoey that made him this way. Evil communication really does corrupt good manners. ‘Cause he was sure he didn’t raise his only child this way and he had to let him know. “No, son. No matter how deeply and intently I think about it, I don’t feel sorry for the things I did to get here. They were necessary, they had to be done.” He deadpanned. “And I don’t need you as a son or as a family anymore. Not when I’m on the verge of getting myself a new family. A new heir. One who’d be brave enough to be on my side, regardless. Not a fickle guy like you.” Jamal could hear the deafening sound of his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. He’ll never get an apology. His father will never feel sorry. He better stop dreaming about it. Alongside the noises he heard were the faint grunting sou
THIRD PERSON'S POV “What are you doing here?” Luther had displeasure in his voice as he got down the stairs. His servants had interrupted his hot fuck with one of the girls his men captured. He was just about to hit another orgasm when they rudely interrupted him, telling him of some important visitor and how his attention was needed. He'd been angry about someone visiting him at this late hour. Angrier about them ruining his fun. But then again, they said it was someone important and he'd thought it was one of his assassins. Or someone really important. He hadn't expected it to be his worthless son. Seeing Jamal instantly plunged him in a crappy mood and he wanted nothing but to chop off the heads of all the maids who'd come to call him. “Hello, Father.” Jamal greeted blandly, hands in his pocket trying to look really at ease so as not to give his Father something to suspect. “Father?” Luther scoffed. “The last time I checked, you said you disowned me as your Fa
THIRD PERSON'S POV “Father,” Zach was up on his feet, staring nervously at the frail figure of his father, Gamma Micah, as he got down the stairs. Gamma Micah was dressed in loose pants and a loose shirt that was definitely his sleeping outfit. His eyes were groggy and his face had heavy traces of sleep stained on them. He looked every bit unamused by having his sleep cut short by a sudden mind-link from his son. “What's the problem, son? Why do you want to speak to me in the middle of the night?” “I’m sorry about the disturbance, Father. It's just…” “Are you okay? Did something happen to you?” Gamma Micah questioned, going closer to do a quick scrutiny of him. Zach stopped him with a smile. A sad smile. “I'm fine, Father.” Ever since Zoey's death, his father has become more agitated, more paranoid, and extra concerned about him. It should be a nice thing, the extra concern would have been soothing if it didn't have trauma written all over it. Zoey's demise
Messiah Jordy’s POV “Uh, let's continue.” Jamal cleared off an unfamiliar crankiness in his voice as his fingers moved to the map again. I looked at it and was partly stunned to see it was a map of our pack. A vivid map that showed every route that led in and out of our Pack. “Confronting my father head-on isn't ideal. He's way too vicious now and would never back down. Regardless of how bloody the fight gets. And if the fight does get bloody, the casualties would be the poor members of our Pack. I don't want that…” “Yeah, me neither.” I chipped in, shuddering at the thought. “Whatever you guys are planning, please don't risk the safety of my people..” My people…I already got the words out before I realized. Were they still my people? Luther was already in control of my Pack. Could I still boldly call them my people? “Don’t worry, Jordy. I do not plan on hurting your people. I swear it.” Arlo smiled, giving my hand a warm squeeze. I smiled, feeling calmer. “So how
MESSIAH JORDY’S POV Waking up alone in the bedroom had been slightly terrifying, but I forced myself to take a deep breath and not panic. This wasn’t my Pack. This was Arlo’s kingdom. This was his house and I could never get hurt here. My eyes were heavy and my bones were sore. How long did I sleep? Glancing at the clock and realizing it was morning made me go through a quick mental count and realize that I must have slept all through yesterday. Because the last time I was awake, it was dawn, and I’d started wailing again. Arlo was there holding me back, trying his hardest to calm me but that had been impossible. I only felt a weird sense of calmness when the syringe pierced into my skin again. He sedated me again. I must have fallen asleep right at that moment and stayed asleep all day until now. Unlike every other time I regained consciousness, I didn't really feel like wailing again. More like, I was too exhausted to. With a groan, I slowly stepped down from the bed
KING ARLO’S POV “Goodnight, man.” Slauson patted my shoulders as we met on the stairs. He was going to bed while I was going downstairs to the kitchen to grab myself a bottle of water. “Goodnight,” I replied, jogging down the remaining staircases and taking a turn in the hall that led me into the pitch-dark kitchen. My hands went to the switch and I flicked it on. I turned and was slightly stunned by the figure who was seemingly brooding in the darkness that I got rid of when I turned on the light. Jamal. Earlier, he was sitting in the living room alone. And now, he’s here, with a can of beer in his hand and his eyes looking rather too heavy. He looked at me and leaned up, gesturing at the can of beer. “I needed a drink and I got this from the refrigerator. I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds.” One, it was the first time he was being polite to me, and it weirdly made my heart flutter. “Nah, it’s fine. Go ahead.” I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of wat