Avenging The Triplet Alphas
Chapter 25

Loki's

POV

"Your plan," Elijah began, staring at me. "Is it going to change our father's mind?"

"I can only hope it does," I replied. "We have to give this our best shot, otherwise we'll fade into history without leaving our mark on anything. It would be as good as dying."

"So what's this whole plan about?" Jonathan cleared his throat, drawing my attention to himself. "And how do we go about it?"

"I've been thinking about what you said and I guess you're right. Arielle's our best bet right now and we have to get her back."

"There's something we've not discussed yet," Elijah cut in. "Father was the driving force behind her leaving in the first place, do you think he's going to be pleased with her return?" "It's either that or he rescinds his threat," I answered. "If he wants us to get a mate, we'll give him the only mate we've ever had."

"This ploy can end up ruining all our chances, you know right?" Loki began, he could suddenly understand why Loki had a smug look on his face.

"I know," I replied, nodding at him.

"But you don't care about any of that, do you?" Jonathan narrowed his eyes on me.

"No, I don't," I replied again.

He had always been the smartest one out of the three of us. Sometimes, I tend to forget how fast he could figure things out.

"You don't want her back," Jonathan began, it wasn't a question. "The only reason you gave in to this was to use Arielle as bait to get our father off our backs."

"You tend to see the fault in everything that doesn't go your way, Jonathan." His condescending tone had put me in a bad mood.

"This is a win-win situation for everyone involved. Arielle doesn't want us back, we don't need to get rejected by her before we read the signs on the f*****g wall."

"And what happens when our father approves of her return?" Jonathan retorted.

"He won't trust me on this," I assured him.

My idea was pretty simple. I only had to switch an idea he wouldn't approve of with the chance to be free from his ludicrous threats about having a mate.

Just like a three-card monte. It was the oldest con in the book. The three cards could be anything, but it is usually a queen and two low-numbered cards placed side by side face down on a table. The queen is the only card that matters and you have to replace it. The dealer starts every game with the cards in his hands, face down, cradling the edges of the card with his fingers. Two on one hand, the queen on the bottom and the ten above it, and a single five of diamonds on the other hand. He then throws down the queen, face down, and throws the other cards around it. It's easy to see where the queen has landed and follow it as the dealer moves it around with the other cards. A friend of the dealer bets on where the queen lies and gets it wrong. The mark then feels pretty confident, thinks he's got it all figured out, and places a bet on where the queen lies. This time, with money on the table. The dealer throws the top card down first, keeping the queen last. The switch gets its prey every time.

We were playing a two-card Monte this time. The only difference was we weren't switching cards this time, we were switching powers and this time, I was determined to win.

My plan was airtight and I would not fail.

***

We walked briskly into one of the rooms Father used often whenever he wanted to have a private discussion with us, Jonathan and Elijah were flanked on either side of me. It took me a long time to convince Jonathan to come on board with this plan and he eventually accepted and I requested a meeting with our father immediately. He had gotten better over time and the doctor deemed it fit for him to return to his duties.

He was eager to know why I requested the meeting, my first instinct was to tell him we weren't planning on announcing the discovery of a new mate but I decided to leave him to his imagination. Some things were always better left unsaid and it was better I remained mute for the sake of this meeting, I wouldn't be thoroughly pissed with myself if I jeopardized it.

It was a rather large room. It seemed cut out from an Italian mafia magazine. A typical, bleak coffee-stained room with dirty walls. The scent of sweat, cigarettes, and musky cologne hung in the air like a chandelier, there were pictures on the wall that were some kind of modern art, the furniture looked plain, uncomfortable, leather, and black.

My eyes landed on my father sitting at the center of the room. A long metal table with paper strewn across the surface separated me from who I assumed to be the new bodyguard standing in front of him, he was flanked by men holding mean-looking guns, some I hadn't seen before in my life and that said a lot about the kind of people my father had gone into dealings with. I could smell them from where I stood, they were werewolves like we were but they were different and they didn't belong to our pack either. I turned to Jonathan and Elijah who both wore wary gazes on their faces as they stared straight ahead. I wondered if they had the same worries I was having but I decided to shake off my anxiety.

I took a close look at my father as I approached the table, my gaze was wary as it darted from face to face trying to pick up a hint. The skin on his body looked like grade-three sandpaper, the consistency was unreal. The doctor had said he was getting better but he looked far from it. If anything, his health had deteriorated over the past two months.

"You don't look so well, Father." I began as we stopped in front of the table. Our discussion could wait, his health was more paramount.

"It's nothing to concern yourselves with, boys." My father began, coughing slightly. "You have more important things to worry about."

"The doctor said you were getting better," Jonathan began this time. "But you look far from it. You should be self-healing by now but it doesn't seem to be happening."

"I got tired of lying in bed all day, so I threatened the doctor to discharge me else I would have his family hanged first thing tomorrow morning." My father replied in a serious tone and I couldn't figure out if he was calling bluff or telling the truth. Knowing the kind of man he was, I wasn't going to leave it to chance.

"These men aren't from our pack and from the way they're suited up, it's almost as if you're expecting to head into war anytime soon." I looked around again, something wasn't adding up, my father wouldn't have such heavy protection if he felt thoroughly safe. "The doctor said I've been poisoned for a long time now, he couldn't exactly figure out when it started but one thing he could tell me was that it had gotten to a critical stage and there was nothing he could medically do about it."

"What does that mean?" Elijah asked fearfully, not believing his ears.

"You already know what it means, it's why I've been on your necks for the past month now. I'm dying and you know this." My father replied, his voice hoarse. "These guards are to protect me and properly scan my food and visitors before they come any closer. I'm not leaving anything to chance anymore, there's a traitor in our pack and I intend to make the person wish he or she was never born."

"How do you want us to help, Father?" I started again, eager to help locate who was behind this before more damage would be inflicted on us all. "If you give us the clues you have already, we can take care of it without any fuss."

"While I appreciate your kind gesture, I'm afraid I don't need either of your help in dealing with my enemies." Xavier waved off their offer, he was after something that would bring him a lot more happiness than they could ever imagine. "Father, but-"

"Why did you ask to see me?"

I took a deep breath, here goes nothing. This had to work, it had to. There's no backup plan or counterplan if I didn't see this through with the help of my brothers.

"We wanted to discuss the fate of the pack and the heir to the throne."

My father remained silent and I saw it fit to proceed. "In actuality, we're here to discuss our mate with you and to get your blessings."

Xavier's eyes widened in delight. He felt some sense of relief wash over him as he eased into his chair. He had waited for many weeks to hear such satisfactory results and now his joy knew no bounds.

"What's her name, sons? Tell me, who's the chosen mate to carry on the Van Tyson's legacy?"

"Arielle,"