THIRD PERSON'S POVJamal swerved up the drive of the Orlandos' residence, hitting the brakes furiously and turning off the ignition. With a loud slam, he alighted the car, hurrying to the front porch. He rang the doorbell like crazy, almost kicking open the door when the response took later than expected.His clenched fist pounced repeatedly on the door, wishing nothing but to break down the damn thing.*fuck it, Zoey. Where the hell are you?!* He sent her a mind-link, still hitting on the door."Son?" He stilled and slowly turned around. A low hiss smoothly slid out of his lips. It was the most unpleasant surprise."What are you doing here?" Luther continued, joining him on the front porch and glancing at the door."It's none of your fucking business." Jamal snorted, retrieving his fists into his pockets and putting a good distance between them.Ever since their last breakfast together, they have never had to share a space. Jamal had intentionally avoided all the areas of the house
THIRD PERSON'S POVGamma Micah led the way into his study. Dropping his suitcase on the table, he walked over to the built-in wine cellar to grab a rebranded bottle of whiskey. He took out two glasses and filled them up. "I'm sorry you had to wait outside. I made a quick stop at the Packs engaging in the upcoming competition. By the way, will Jamal contest this year?""I have no idea." Luther gruffed out, settling on one of the chairs. He ripped open the buttons on his coat, feeling slightly pissed.Why did she have to be at that door, clad in just a short and a see-through crop top? Any gentleman would kowtow to her at that moment for a few minutes with her. Any rogue would have her at fang-point, demanding to fuck her? How could she be so fucking clueless? How could she parade in that outfit and even dare open the door, unsure of who was knocking?It was the most annoying shit. More annoying 'cause he couldn’t get the fucking image of her at that door out of his head. That fucking
THIRD PERSON'S POV "How could he do this to me?!" Gamma Micah yelled out furiously, sending everything on the table crashing onto the floor. He kicked the chair away, storming for the door. He pulled it open and walked out. "Zoey, get me the car keys. You know what? Nevermind. I'll race down to the packhouse." "No, Micah. You can't go there. Not now. Not in this rage." Luther said, pulling him back. "Let me go!" Gamma Micah jerked away from him, aiming for the door again. Luther stood in his path, defiant and ready to brawl. "I'm going to fight you if that's the only way to make you stay back." "My son just got arrested for the silliest reasons and you think I should just sit back and watch?! No way in hell!" "If you go there like this, you'll create a scene. You might even end up saying the worst things to our Alpha. I'm asking you to try to calm down a bit. Please." "Whatever I say, he deserves it!" Gamma Micah snapped aggressively. "Locking up my son over some bull
THIRD PERSON'S POV The raucous laughter in the background invaded Arlo's ears, causing them to sting and increasing his irritation. His heavy eyes landed on the bartender serving another round of tequila and he grabbed a glass, chugging it down. "Hey man, that wasn't your order," Ivan whispered next to him. "So what?" Arlo grated out, dangling his eyes to the chubby, blond bartender, who seemed like he was going to protest but the coldness in Arlo's eyes killed his resolve. He cowered instead, pouring new drinks and apologizing to the customers. "Quit being an ass, Arlo. It's scary." Ivan said, and then his hand gripped Arlo's down, as he tried to reach for another glass. "Quit drinking too. You're only going to end up feeling worse." "You got no idea how I feel." Arlo hissed, slapping off Ivan's hand and grabbing the glass. This time, he got more stares than the first. But they knew better than voicing out their irritation. He chugged down the drink again, letting out a de
THIRD PERSON'S POV Slauson let out another deep, slurred mournful sigh, rubbing his hands over his face. The files shattered on the table echoed his failure and was torturing him. It was the most devastating shit. He just went bankrupt. Needing a drink, he pushed back his seat and went for the bottle of martini on the small table in the middle of his office. He poured himself a glass. It was almost noon and not the best time to drink, but his nerves were a wreck. He needed some kind of intoxication, to distract him from his damning reality. Again, he glanced at the files and his eyes clogged with tears. They were his accounts and the glaring proof that he just lost everything. For the past months, he's been a mess. With Jordy's lover demanding his son back and with Jordy completely forgetting about their short-term bond, he felt like a complete failure. Feeling played and used, he fell into an abyss of depression and brooding. He barely came to work. The affairs of the caf
KING ARLO'S POVEvery step I took had a resonant sound like it was my fate that was about to be determined. And frankly speaking, it was. Whatever happens in that interrogatory hall with Zachary would determine what my relationship with Jordy would look like from now on.For three days, I haven't set my eyes on her. And I knew she'll be in the interrogation room. Having her around while I brutally interrogate Zachary would be definitely one hell of a task.To be able to pull through, I gave myself a million prep talks. When I get in there, I won't look at her. I'd look anywhere else but her. And if by chance our gazes meet, I won't stare for too long. I'd look away, recalling all the terrible things she said and the anger would be the fuel I need to carry out the trial.I had it all planned out. My resolve was steel-like. Not until the door opened and her scent hit me like a hurricane. I froze, sniffing up every whiff of it and exhaling dreamily as it chilled the deepest raging of my
THIRD PERSON'S POV Jamal lingered outside the interrogation hall. He was leaning against the door, with his legs crossed. Dressed in a grey henley, tight denim pants, black loafers, and his hair sleek to the back, he looked the complete gentleman, posing no threats. But his actions and intentions were that of a snake. His mind was writhing in agony. His head was jumbled up with a million questions and voices screaming that he better leave the Packhouse. Lingering around like this would only stir up one thing - trouble. Everyone was already tensed from Zach's trail, he shouldn't add to the tension. The rational thing to do was just to lock it up, man up, and leave. Walk away before he does something crazy and creates a damning scandal. He couldn't bring his legs to move. They seemed to have been pinned on the spot. He didn't force them to move either. Every nerve in him wanted to stay back and talk to Jordy. But about what? It was the million-dollar question with no answe
THIRD PERSON'S POV Jordy flinched at the voice, forcing herself out of Jamal's hold. She was flustered by the roar and she could only imagine the tide of rage in those eyes that were likely heating up her back. She couldn't turn around. She was too terrified to meet Arlo's gaze. She gasped as Jamal pulled her hand, bringing her closer again. "Jamal, what are you doing?!" "We weren't done talking." Jamal breathed out. There was an irritation in his voice. And reluctance. His grip around her wrist tightened. "I'll let you go when I've said all I need to say." "Do you have a death wish or something?" Arlo rasped. Two long strides closed up the distance and he grabbed Jordy's other hand, giving it a hard tug. "Let go." He seethed to Jamal. "I was here with Jordy before you walked out. So why don't you just head back inside and allow us a bit of privacy to finish our conversation? Sounds fair, right?" Jamal snorted. Arlo's jaw clenched and he let out a grunted cuss, tugging at
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