Chapter 40
Flashback
The room was dim. Faces she barely knew stared at her.
"The only person with most probability bring down Xander is his own son. Arion." An older man leaned forward. "And if Xander doesn't fall, he'll lose his heir anyway. We lose nothing."
Lily stood silent.
"Make Arion yours. More than a partner. Make him devoted. So he'll do anything for you."
Another voice cut in. "Use whatever you have to. Love, loyalty, whatever works."
"When the time comes, he'll be the weapon. Either against his father or as bait."
Lily's jaw tightened. But she nodded.
"I understand."
"Good." The man smiled coldly. "Then we have a deal."
She didn't look back as she left the room.
*
Timeline: Present
Xander's eyes went gold. Not a pretty gold. Not jewelry-store gold.
The kind of gold you see right before something with teeth decides you look edible.
His bones shifted under his skin like they were rearranging furniture in a hurry.
The change came fast. Disturbingly fast. The kind of fast that made you wonder if physics had just clocked out early.
Flesh twisted with wet sounds that definitely didn't belong at dinner parties. His spine stretched like taffy in the hands of a sadistic child.
Shoulders widened until his expensive shirt gave up and tore. Hands became paws with a series of grotesque pops.
Nails lengthened into claws that clicked on cement like a very aggressive tap dancer.
Fur erupted across his body, dark as wet earth and twice as dirty-looking.
A werewolf now stood in the center of the basement.
Bigger than the guards. Bigger than any man had a right to be. Bigger than seemed structurally sound, honestly.
Xander's wolf form was massive and scarred and old. Built for one thing: making sure everyone knew exactly who was in charge.
His eyes stayed gold. Unblinking. Creepy.
He turned his head slightly, and somehow—impossibly—he still looked like he was smiling. A wolf shouldn't be able to look smug. This one managed it.
He landed on all fours with a thud that sent vibrations through the concrete. His claws scraped the floor with sounds that made everyone's teeth ache.
The basement filled with growls.
Not the fun kind of growl. Not even the angry kind.
This was the "I own your spine and everyone else's spine and possibly the concept of spines in general" kind of growl.
Pure dominance wrapped in fur and bad intentions.
Xander lowered his head first. A challenge. An invitation to get destroyed in front of witnesses.
Arion answered with a sound so low it shook dust from the pipes overhead. Decades of accumulated dust. It drifted down like very disappointed snow.
The guards shifted backward without meaning to. Their bodies knew what their brains were still trying to process: run.
The prisoners couldn't move. They were chained. But they watched anyway, eyes wide, breath held, looking like they'd rather be literally anywhere else.
Hell, maybe. A tax audit. Anything.
Xander stepped forward.
Arion didn't retreat. Of course he didn't. Because retreating would've been smart, and smart wasn't on the menu tonight.
They met in the center with a crash that rattled the hanging bulb and made everyone's ancestors briefly concerned.
Teeth flashed. Big teeth. Teeth that had opinions about your continued existence.
Xander snapped for Arion's throat. Fast and precise. A bite meant to end it before the opening credits finished.
Arion twisted at the last second and took the bite on his shoulder instead. Blood sprayed warm against cement.
The smell hit the room like a slap—copper and salt and bad life choices.
Lily's stomach lurched. She tasted bile.
Arion slammed his weight into Xander's ribs with everything he had. The impact echoed like someone had dropped a sack of hammers into a drum.
Xander skidded half a meter, claws screeching across concrete in a sound that could strip paint.
Then Xander struck back.
His paw came down like a sledgehammer. It caught Arion's head sideways with a meaty thwack.
Arion's body hit the floor so hard the concrete cracked under his shoulder.
Actual cracks. Spiderweb patterns spreading like bad news.
Lily jerked forward instinctively. Her chain snapped tight and bit into her ankle. She choked on Arion's name.
"Arion—" Her voice broke into pieces.
Xander didn't let Arion rise clean. No mercy. No fairness. Just efficiency.
He climbed onto him, pinning him with the weight of centuries of alpha authority. His jaws snapped at Arion's face.
Breath hot enough to feel from ten feet away. He forced Arion's head down.
Forced his muzzle toward the floor like he was teaching a puppy a very violent lesson.
A dominance press.
Old as wolves. Brutal as gravity.
Xander's pack wasn't there in full, but two werewolves stood near the stairs. Loyalists with matching expressions of grim satisfaction. Their bodies went rigid.
Their ears angled forward, waiting. Waiting to see the old alpha confirm that the world still spun his way.
***
