SILAS

"Julius informed me that you collapsed last night."

I bear it in mind to carefully study my little harvest as I speak, catching every hint of her body language to ensure that I am consistently in control in this delicate conversation that we are about to have.

She forces a fake bout of laugher. I have known for quite some time that she has resented the fact that Julius has acted like a hawk over her life, constantly questioning her and returning to me. I also know that she has chosen to be quiet about the situation because I have carefully trained her to believe that she owes a debt to the park, to me. I don't even think she has gotten to develop love for the young man for the past two years that they have been together. But I know that she will not leave him until her dying days because she believes it to be her duty.

Well, luckily for her, her dying days are fast approaching.

"He told me that he thinks you have not been consistent with your medication."

"I have, father. What happened last night..."

"Was as a result of some other reason other than your failure to follow instructions? Your insistence of placing me with the burden of having to deal with episodes of the likes you used to have as a child?"

"No, father. Gosh, no. I hate what used to happen to me as a child and I am most abundantly grateful for the medication. I take it religiously every night."

"So what happened?"

She hesitates. "I.. I touched my necklace. The one I came here with. And then, I blanked out."

The necklace? No, it is powerless, I made sure of that before letting her come with it here as a performance of empathy. She touched it and fainted?

"What a ridiculous story."

"Believe me, father. It's real."

It will need to be investigated into, then.

"And where is this necklace?"

"I didn't pick it up for fear but I am certain that it has been placed on the shelves by the maids, and since there was no call for alarm, without the same episode as I had."

Hmmm. My mind is racing. Could that, could that possibly be a tool? Something that could help? Or a hindrance, perhaps?

"Well, I will have the necklace examined to find out the truth of your words. But for now, I have a theory of my own. My theory is that you are growing older, growing different."

"Different?"

I edge closer. "Yes, different. More sensitive. More affected by the park, our powers."

She frowns. "And that is bad?"

"I believe so. Or well, it can be. If left unmanaged. I believe that to truly cure you of these maladies, permanently, we may need to take more stringent measures."

I realize at this point that I need to put on the performance of sympathy and care. So, I let my expression constrict to something warm and fatherly and place a hand over hers.

"More stringent measures, father?"

"Yes. Something to give you a permanent cure. No one should be hooked on medication for the rest of her life and certainly not my daughter. So, I have been in consultation with a lot of... doctors, spell makers, the likes, searching for a cure for you. And I am glad to announce to you that I think I may have found one."

There's disbelief across her face, a result of the years of dependency on medication.

"You've always trusted me, haven't you?"

The brief moment of hesitation before her nod angers me terribly, but I withhold myself from harming her for her brief display of ingratitude and disloyalty. She is needed, after all.

"Scyla. Come in."

I have done a wonderful job of dressing the Lamashtu demon as a respectable person with the knowledge of medication and a bit of the mythical scientific arts. She looks almost believable.

"This is Dr. Scyla. She will be in charge of taking you through the process of purification and empowerment."

"What, father? I thought that I will simply be receiving some more medication, stronger ones."

I laugh. The silly fool.

"Medication? Of course not. What has availed you is stronger than what simple medication can handle, my dear daughter. Medication can only subdue the symptoms, never cure the cause. For your treatment, you will be empowered with enough magick to enable your body to completely expel the negative effects of your powerlessness in the midst of the supernatural."

"I will be made a magical creature?" She perks up.

"I mean, you may gain some powers on the path to your cure, I guess. But the ultimate aim is your freedom from the torments and the faintings and the nightmares and all that you have had to suffer due to your deficiency as a human."

"Okay, father." The excitement underlying her tone makes me want to burst into further laugher. "What do I have to do?"

"You would need to go through a series of... let's call them rituals."

KAEDEN

I lean against the stone railing of one of the dark balconies of the mansion, seething, my father's words ringing in my ears.

To my long-lost son, finally back to his senses, at just the... perfect time.

I anticipated this, knew that he was going to slowly ensure that the hearts of the entire pack would be against me. I just didn't anticipate the build up of anger that I would feel whilst watching it happen in real time.

I straighten myself. I really shouldn't bother myself so much, reeling over his words. Not when there is urgent action to be done. Not when I need to move more quickly in showing my pack why I truly left.

Elias Kore, the lorekeeper, was one of the few people that I had informed of my plans to leave the pack and why and ever since I left, he has acted as my inside man, feeding me with information about the pack, my father's usurpation of power and forceful expansion of the pack, of the depletion of the magical creatures in my father's reign, of my father's plans for immortality.

Tonight, he informed me of something terrifying. Father has brought in a Lamashtu demon, a terrifying creature of the darkest pits of magic, to the mansion. He said that my father intends to begin the rituals to unnatural immortality. And he informed me that he believes that my father may have in his possession, tucked away in some dungeon or something, a Nyxarel, the only one of this generation, and that with the Nyxarel in his possession, he finally has the major ingredient to initiate the process of immortality.

But I have a different theory as to exactly who this Nyxarel is. In fact, I believe that father has had the Nyxarel in his possession for quite some time and has just spent time gathering other extraneous requirements for the ritual. I believe that father has taken this Nyxarel, essentially his blood sacrifice, raised it on quiet obedience, and now believes that the time is ripe to commence, or perhaps, is rushing the process because I pose a threat to him.

I believe the Nyxarel is Avara. I mean, Elias informed me that there is a chance that whatever rituals that needed to commence would commence today, and I did witness father drawing her to a corner to give her an order, probably to meet him at some place where the ritual is supposed to take place.

Anyways, I need to certify if this theory of mine is true.

To protect her, Fenris moans, protect our Mate.

I groan, instantly feeling sick and lightheaded. It's been just two years, but the feelings that I have had to fight feel like ones that I have had for years. The weight of the attraction I feel towards her, everything about her, her voice, her smile, the way she glams herself in flowy silk gowns and bright diamond jewellery. Her scent.

I feel an unwelcome feeling flow down and pinch myself in a useless attempt to get my head out of the pit it has fallen to.

It doesn't matter that she is adopted. It doesn't matter that we are both essentially strangers with the same surname and given father.

I refuse to be sexually attracted to my sister.

I'm helping her just as I would help any other person that Silas intends to murder for his selfish purposes, I chide my wolf.

Fenris scoffs.

My mind hovers to how Avara sat at the table at tonight's banquet, quiet, in her beautiful green silk gown, acting as she has been conditioned to act, a the obedient little daughter, a ghost in her own home. I'm certain that he has manipulated her with the tale of obligation, filled her ears with stories of how she owes him for choosing to save her. And now, whatever her feelings may be, she must feel morally mandated to choose whatever path he picks for her, even if that path leads to her death.

My mind suddenly flashes to Julian, who sat beside her, his hand lingering on her waist possessively and a primal urge to rip the Beta's son apart limb from limb overwhelms me.

No, I cannot let myself be distracted like this, pining away while her life is on the line. I need to act quickly.

The 'medication'

Yes, of course. There must be a reason that my father has been making her down that foul liquid that smells faintly like poison. Maybe discovering exactly what it is will be the start gate to uncovering her history and father's plans.

I look up at the darkened windows of the west wing of the mansion, her wing. She was definitely not thrilled the last time she saw me there, and I know that she will be even less pleased if she were to find me today. But between her feelings and her life, I am inclined to pick her life, with the added advantage of ridding the pack of the parasitic dictator that has ruled over them for far too long.

Because I just have the feeling that if Avara is the key to his immortality, then she is also the key to his destruction.

She has been summoned to wherever it is that my father intends to carry out his shenanigans, which means that she will not be in her quarters, and which means that this is the perfect time to move.

I immediately set out to the west wing, moving with the silence of a predator. None of the floor guards dare to question me as I bypass them, reaching Avara's quarters very quickly.

Her door is locked, so I press my palm against the wood, feeling the mechanism and with a sharp, controlled burst of strength, I force the latch open.

The room smells faintly like her, of vanilla and wild berries and storm clouds. My wolf growls, his claws raking against the interior of my ribs. My mind swarms, and it takes me a long moment to get myself grounded again.

I move for her wardrobe and begin quickly and yet painstakingly hunting for the bottle. Before I can move further, I catch the medication seated on her bedside cabinet.

I move towards it, and pick it. It's a small brown bottle with no label. I unscrew the cap and take a cautious whiff.

Belladonna. That's what it smells like, well primarily, which is already bad enough. But I catch a whiff of something that smells even worse.

In my bag, I hunt for a tiny vial and carefully extract a bit of the medication. I know some friends that can help me detect exactly what it is and why she is being fed with poison.

I turn to leave, and freeze.

"Looking for something, Kaeden?"

KAEDEN

Avara is leaning against the doorframe, her expression unreadable. She isn't wearing the green silk gown from the banquet anymore. She is instead, in a thin, translucent nightgown that leaves very little to the imagination. Fenris lets out a low, predatory purr that vibrates in my chest.

"Looking for something, Kaeden?" she repeats, her voice dripping with disdain.

Before she can notice, I quickly tuck the vial in my pockets.

"You were supposed to be with Silas." A stupid statement to make, I know, but my mind is blank of any other words to use to break the ice.

"Yes, I was. Luckily, he did not have very much to tell me, unlike what you might have expected."

"Well, then, I hope you have a good night's sleep."

I make a move to leave, but she stalks into the room, closing the distance until she is standing directly in my space. The scent of her, vanilla, wild berries, and storm clouds, hits me like a physical blow.

"What are you doing here, Kaeden?"

"Why would you want to know?"

She laughs, and I realize that this is the first time I have seen her laugh. And even though it's sardonic, there's something undeniably entrancing about the way her lips curve when she laughs.

"I don't know... I mean, it could be because you're in my room, in my quarters, invading my private space for the second time since you came back barely three days ago. What is it that you want? You think I have something of yours?"

"I see no reason to respond to you." My voice comes out harsher than I intend. "I am soon to be Alpha. This mansion belongs to me." I feel tempted to tell her, but I want to confirm my suspicions so that she has good reason to believe me.

She laughs again and my breath hitches. My goodness.

"To think I felt bad for you when father embarrassed you today at the banquet. But you know what? He had good reason to say every word that came out of his mouth. You might be in your thirties, but every indication of your actions reveal you to be an irresponsible, entitled brat."

I feel my chest tighten involuntarily with anger. "You know nothing of what I am."

"Oh really? Well, then, I can't be judged for making my deductions based on your actions. I mean, you abandoned your family for 15 years and barely three days after coming back, you've already started acting like you are entitled to so many things that you never bothered to work for."

Never bothered to work for? The hundreds of scars lining up my arms and back almost begin reverberating around me. Only if she knew, only if she fucking knew just how hard I have worked over the years.

"Again, I am not obligated to respond to you."

She yawns. "If you are going to be a constant visitor every night, brother, you might as well bring a snack once in a while. And just so you know, I'm not a fool to just think that you have been coming here just to look around and touch things. I know you have an agenda. I don't know what it might be, but I know that it has something to do with your knowledge that father doesn't find you worthy of the throne and will not willingly give power to you. Well, I'm sorry to inform you, but you will find nothing to help you in this imminent war against father here. I am just a pawn in this pack."

"Only a pawn?" I almost laugh.

"Yes, so I would appreciate if..."

I notice that her bright green eyes have moved to my right pocket and I look down to realise that in my haste, I did not properly conceal the vial.

"Did you... did you take something of mine?"

Before I can react, she moves for my pockets and just before she can grab it, I catch her hand and raise it away from my pocket. She makes another attempt, this time, pressing her body against mine in an attempt to reach for it.

The contact is electric. The world tilts, just like it did when we first touched. I can feel the heat of her skin through the thin silk, the frantic beat of her heart against my ribs. Her breath hitches, and for a second, the resentment in her eyes wavers.

I gently push her away, and find that I am panting from the brief encounter.

"That is nothing of yours."

"Then what the fuck is it?" She's panting too.

"I will be leaving now, Avara. Don't try to stop me again or I am afraid that I might get violent."

"You're a piece of shit, do you know that?" Even her glare is electrifying. At this point, I have to ensure that I never encounter her alone at night like this. Or worse, touch her.

"One day, you'll thank me."

I don't wait for her reply. I vault over the balcony, disappearing into the shadows of the ancient oaks before I do something we'll both regret.