Threat

Victor’s eyes flicker with barely-contained anger, his jaw taut as if holding back a scream.

I stand there awkwardly, feeling the warmth of Victor’s embrace and the rise and fall of his chest. The party is in full swing around us, and despite the tension boiling between father and son, the music blares on. As Alpha Craft addresses his son, his voice is low and commanding, leaving no room for argument.

“Victor, I am interested in knowing about your plans for the future.” I feel the fear creeping up my spine just from the sound of Alpha Craft’s voice. “Living in this manner and discarding all that I’ve sacrificed for you is not a viable option. As you are no longer a child, it’s time for you to grow up.”

Defiance drips from Victor’s voice as his arrogance flares.

“The thing is, I’m living my life on my own terms. I’m not obligated to live the way you want me to.”

Tension hangs in the air like a thick fog, and I can feel it pressing down on me. As Victor seethes with anger, I struggle to replace the right words to calm him down. I press my ear against Victor’s chest and can hear the deafening sound of his heart pounding.

Watching the tense standoff, I make the decision to intervene before things escalate any further.

Victor’s arms reluctantly release me, and I turn to face Alpha Craft, my heart racing with a mix of fear and respect. He looks at me blankly, not giving away any emotion. Alpha Craft’s appearance mirrors Victor’s in many ways, though the thick, wild beard on his face accompanied by the dozen wrinkles on his forehead is a noticeable difference.

The beard on his face does not hide the fact that he’s frowning at me.

“Alpha Craft,” I speak up, keeping my voice respectful and unwavering. “I am so sorry. Allow me to introduce myself. My name’s Alina Mockett, and I’m in the running for the Mating Run as well.”

Alpha Craft’s eyes flick from Victor to me, and I feel a shiver climb up my spine.

It’s not until a few moments later that I realize there is a man standing next to him emanating an air of strength and alertness.

He has a statuesque frame, black hair, and a complexion that glimmers like gold in the sun. Scars adorn both of his powerful arms. I can feel his penetrating stare on me as he observes me, his presence exuding authority. I blink and turn around to see if someone is behind me, but no, his piercing glare is directed at me.

With a nod, Alpha Craft acknowledges my greeting, his voice rough but controlled.

“I am delighted to meet you, Alina. I hope that you are fully equipped to face the challenges that await you when the Mating Run starts.”

In response, I give a nervous nod, determined to push forward.

“That’s right, Alpha Craft. I’m gonna give it my all during the Mating Run.”

As our conversation progresses, I can’t help but be fixated on the imposing figure next to Alpha Craft. He stands still, watching over the Alpha without uttering a word. He has an air of superiority as he stands there, arms behind his back, and gives me a disdainful look.

Alpha Craft doesn’t even bother introducing whoever he is.

Victor meets Alpha Craft’s piercing gaze as he turns to him once again. Each time he opens his mouth, I’m left breathless, my jaw dropping in shock. Victor winces at every word, feeling the calculated edges of his father’s words slice through him.

“Victor,” Alpha Craft begins to speak, his measured but stern voice commanding attention. “You have consistently been impulsive and shown little inclination towards responsibility. Your belief in your own intelligence and dependability may be overstated. If you could emulate the gentleman beside me, our conversation would be unnecessary.”

Despite his rising anger, Victor keeps his mouth shut, his jaw tensed and nostrils flared. Just as the tension is about to reach its peak, I step in, heading straight for the man who has been shooting daggers at me.

“Excuse me, but I don’t think we’ve been introduced. Who are you?”

I repeat my question, but the man remains unresponsive, as if I’m not even there. Alpha Craft chuckles beside him, breaking the silence that would have otherwise followed my question.

Alpha Craft’s face is beaming with pride as he slaps the man’s back.

“Certainly, Alina. I regret not introducing him earlier and apologize for my oversight.” He turns to the imposing figure, his smile unnaturally wide and forced, unlike the one he reserves for his son. “Allow me to introduce Zeke Duncke, who happens to be the nephew of one of the High Council Elders. He is poised to assume the role of head of security and is also a contender in the Mating Run.”

I receive no greeting or smile from Zeke, just a nod of acknowledgment and his hands clasped tightly behind his back. With a chuckle, Alpha Craft shows no signs of being done yet, his eyes fixated on Zeke with a glint of satisfaction.

“And you know, he’s also a potential candidate for the role of Alpha,” Zeke stiffens, and I hear Victor scoffing behind me simultaneously. Alpha Craft’s laughter echoes through the room, but his smile quickly fades as he clasps his hands together and fixes a stern gaze on Victor. “Nevertheless, if Victor is successful in replaceing an ideal mate, he will assume the Alpha position with ease. He has achieved the appropriate age and acquired the requisite education.”

“But I gotta replace a mate that meets your standards? Right, father?”

The only sound coming from Alpha Craft is a soft, melodic hum. He nods at us and takes a few steps before disappearing from sight. Zeke lingers behind, his gaze fixed on the floor beneath his feet, his jaw locked.

Hearing the news that the position he had been working hard to obtain is going to be given to the Alpha’s son solely because of nepotism must be a devastating blow.

“Hey, don’t worry about what my father said.” Victor’s voice, usually booming, is surprisingly gentle as he speaks. It’s surprising to see him genuinely feeling sorry for the guy. With a smile on his face, he extends his hand towards Zeke in a friendly gesture. “How about joining us for drinks? It’s gotta be tough standing by my father all day.”

Zeke’s eyes narrow into slits as he looks at Victor’s hand, as if he’s trying to burn a hole through it with his stare. Victor’s expression remains stupid, seemingly oblivious to what’s happening.

“Zeke?”

“Don’t f**king say my name.”

Zeke’s unexpected harsh words cause Victor to flinch in surprise.

Zeke, seizing the opportunity of Victor’s shock, strides towards him and deliberately collides with his shoulder, causing Victor to lose his balance and tumble backwards. Helping Victor up, I crouch down with a gasp while Zeke growls low beneath his breath as he walks past us.

“Don’t let me catch you on the trail, Craft. I’m killing you first.”