THIRD PERSON'S POV"Good morning, Master Jamal." The lined-up servants chorused in unison as he made his way down the stairs.He gave a curt nod and headed to the dining area. Luther was already seated on his chair, digging into his cookies and skimming through a magazine.Jamal joined him quietly, muttering a quick 'good morning' and fixing his gaze on his plate of cookies. He ate rather ravenously 'cause of the rumbling in his stomach.Luther didn't bother striking up a conversation so they both enjoyed the silence. "Where's Mother?" Jamal broke the silence."She had something to take care of. So she left at dawn." Luther replied brusquely, not sparing him a glance."And Zach?" Jamal added a bit nervously. "What time did he leave?""Zachary wasn't here," Luther replied. "But Zoey was, last night.""Zoey?" Jamal arched his brow. "What was she doing here?""She brought your drunk-ass home.""She what?!" Jamal was confused. "I thought…" He wanted to argue that it was Zach who'd come t
MESSIAH JORDY'S POVArlo pushed open the revolving door and I walked in, with him trailing behind me. His hand rested firmly on my lower back as he guided me to a table."Have a seat." He pulled out a seat for me and I slid in. He walked to the seat facing mine and sat too."Why is there no one here?" I asked him, looking around. This was one of the most famous eateries in the Pack. But strangely, no one was here. And it was noon."I rented the place for an hour. We need privacy." Arlo replied, still giving me that stare. The same one I woke up to and has had me fidgety all day."Stop looking at me like that." I couldn't keep it in anymore. The stare made me vulnerable and tense. I hated it."Like what?" "Like that. With those hooded eyes drilling holes in my body. Watching my every move like I'm the prime suspect of some homicide crime.""Well, you are a suspect of a crime. But not homicide." His voice was in a husk, turning me the fuck on. "What crime?" I asked nervously, crossing
THIRD PERSON'S POVZach pushed the main door open, walking into the house. He had his duffel bag hanging on his shoulder as he made his way to the stairs.Quick footsteps from behind made him halt and turn around."Father." He bowed, holding the straps of his bag. He was self-conscious of how depressingly casual he looked.Denim black, ripped pants. Black hoodie. His auburn gold-fleck hair was an unruly mess, falling heavily to the side of his face. He hadn't bothered with looking very noble this morning. He'd just wanted to sneak in, get some more clothes and other important stuff and get out. Unnoticed. "Let's have a quick talk, son. Please." Gamma Micah said calmly, gesturing on the way to his study.Zach sighed, dropping his back and following his Father. The walk to the study was short and quiet."Have a seat." Gamma Micah pointed at one of the mid-back chairs, while he went around the mahogany table to settle in the high-back office chair.Zach settled on the chair, crossing a
THIRD PERSON'S POVFor a split second, he thought against invading Zoey's privacy. It wasn't gentlemanly and appropriate to pry into someone else's phone. And no matter how curious and skeptical he was, it still wasn't right.With a changed mind, he threw the phone on the bed. But then, another ping came and his glance caught sight of something."What?" He muttered, picking the phone up again and hacking through her passcode. He knew little tricks up his sleeves.He read the last message.-Meet me later, tonight. Make sure you have the cash, and in exchange, I tell you all about Jordy's son.-"Jordy's son?" Zach was lost. What is this? Who is this? He clicked on the number and went to his profile. Horror struck him hard as the tattooed body and face of the thug he almost beat up in this room popped up.No fucking way! He knew it. He goddamn knew Zoey had something going on with this guy. It was there, the familiarity. The authority. The hold they seemed to have on each other. How defe
THIRD PERSON'S POVThe dark, eerie path ahead was the cue Zoey needed to kill off her engine and walk the remaining road ahead. No way could she ride through the narrow path.With a sigh and a nervous gulp, she alighted her car. Dressed in all-black attire, it was easy to sync with the darkness. With her hoodie in place, she grabbed the touch from the passenger seat and the bag of money with her gloved hands.She looked around for the thousandth time, making sure no one was keeping a tail on her. She was more wary of Luther and his minions, and that was why she kept checking. Just to be a million percent sure.Convinced that she wasn't being followed, she started down the eerie path. She put a leash on her urge to gag from how dirty and disgusting the path was. It was the ghetto side of the Pack, and only bums, thugs, and dirt-poor werewolves live in this area.Zoey was scared, disgusted, and furious. Why the hell did he have to ask her to meet him here? What happened to the fancy ho
THIRD PERSON'S POVZoey felt the car come to a halt and then she was dragged down from it. Her legs were hurried through staircases and the tight grip around her arm pulled her through what felt like hallways. A strong pungent smell hit her and she was forced into one of her intense coughing fits. She has always been sensitive to smells and tends to always give a negative reaction when they tick her off.This one smelled like a reckless mixture of cigarettes, blunts, and something stronger. She didn't know their names. Hell, she doesn't get high on those things. But her insides were churning and raving with the urge to puke."Where are you taking me?" She dared to ask. Her eyes were blindfolded and had been that way since they took her from the building. Her hands were tied up when they got inside the car. She was totally at their mercy and that left her dead scared. The thought that they might kill her off scared her shitless."You'll find out soon." The deep, Russian accent sent ch
THIRD PERSON'S POVZach had his hands on the steering as he lowered his tinted glasses, looking out the window at the dark, stinky area. The area looked dangerous, but that was the least of his worries. He could deal with whatever danger looming around. As long as he would find that damned thug. He'd spent all day haunting his ass, searching every ghetto area of the pack. He had to be living in one. A bum like him wouldn't love to be anywhere else. There are a couple of ghettos in the pack and he visited all of them. It was hard describing him when he didn't have any pictures of him. But then, he did his best to draw a sketch, highlighting his unethical tattoos and his disgusting, ruined dentition. That was enough for anyone to recognize the sketch and they directed him down here.This place looked like it was chewed and spat out by the devil himself. How the hell could someone live here?!He used his heightened visions to scope the area, looking for a possible route to go in and ho
KING ARLO'S POV (AN HOUR BEFORE ZACH'S ARREST…) "I think it'll be a bold step for our Pack when we finally establish a firm, trading chain with the more advanced Packs. Our Pack needs a little more taste of sophistication…" Alpha Hillary continued his monologue as we left the Pack hospital. We've been strolling the grounds for hours now, discussing Pack politics and the ways to advance the Pack. Alpha Hillary had a lot of dreams and potential, and it had been nice listening to him. It would have been the highlight of my day if I wasn't in the company of the man I hated the most. Luther. "Yes, Alpha. I think we should all be invested in making our Pack a heaven for the people. I'm sure with your impeccable insights and strategies, we'll be hitting the top three of the wealthiest Pack in the region soon." Luther eulogized again, with another exaggerated bow. His repulsing display of affection and reverence was ruthlessly jabbing at my nerves. I was implying every strand of
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