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Hunter stood frozen, the phone pressed so tightly to his ear that his knuckles turned white.

"Boyfriend..." he repeated, voice low and trembling with anger. "You two broke up."

Ethan , why the hell was Lucien doing there?

On the other end, Ethan’s voice ca slow, calm, almost teasing. He absentmindedly touched his cheek

"...Did we?" he said with a dry chuckle that made Hunter’s blood boil.

That tone, smug, defiant, as if Ethan knew exactly how to dig under his skin. Hunter’s jaw tightened, and before he knew it, his grip on the phone had turned his knuckles white. Every nerve burned with anger.

"Put him on the phone," Hunter demanded. "I want to talk to Lucien."

"He’s sleeping," Ethan replied, tone flat. "And he’s safe.", he said as he tilted his head "besides why would i sent him back to the place he ran from , huh Hunter?" he said as he looked at Lucien’s sleeping form and he smiled "anyways it was nice talking to you but I’m disturbing Lucien’s sleep bye"

Before Hunter could say another word, the line went dead.

Hunter stared at the screen, his jaw clenching as rage bubbled inside him. The phone creaked under the pressure of his grip before he slamd it onto the table.

"Dammit!" he hissed.

rida, who had been standing by the doorway, flinched. "Hunter, what happened? Did you reach him?"

Hunter didn’t look at her. "He’s fine. Wherever he is." His voice was clipped, emotion barely held in check. Without another word, he stord off to his room, his pheromones leaking heavy and bitter through the air , thick with fury and confusion.

rida sighed softly, waving her hand to clear the scent from the air, you’re an alpha and yet cant control your pheromones urgh . When the silence settled, she turned and made her way to her husband’s office.

She knocked once before entering. Mr. Dastin sat behind his large mahogany desk, pen moving swiftly across a stack of docunts. He didn’t look up.

"Lucien has been found," she said, her voice steady.

No response.

She waited a mont, then cleared her throat and repeated, "Lucien is fo—"

"I heard you the first ti, rida," Mr. Dastin interrupted coldly, eyes still fixed on the papers.

rida stood still, disbelief flashing in her eyes. "You know you were harsh to him earlier," she said quietly. "He’s your child, for goodness’ sake."

Still no response. The sound of the pen scratching paper was the only reply she got.

She took a step forward, her voice firr now. "He’s trying so hard to be seen by you. Every day he bends himself backward just to earn an ounce of your approval, and all you ever do is—"

"rida." His voice was low, dangerous.

"Do you think his dead mo—"

"rida."

The way he said her na made her freeze.

He set the pen down, eyes cold and sharp as steel when he finally looked up. "Don’t push your luck with ."

He rose slowly from his chair, towering over her. "Why would I bother taking care of a son whose only thought is getting laid on? Tell , i bet he went to that ex of his"

She blinked, caught off guard. "T-that’s not true—"

"Regardless," he cut in, stepping closer, "he’s just as useless as he’s always been. No matter how much he tries, his status already defines him. Ogas are born to serve, not to lead."

He reached out, fingers gripping her chin tightly, forcing her gaze to et his. "And I hope you rember where you stand before I have to remind you."

He yanked her hair back sharply, making her wince. His breath brushed her ear, venomous and low.

"Lucien is a mistake I should have rid myself of long ago. Both he and his dead mother failed . At least you," he sneered, "brought a dependable alpha into this family ,one worthy of my na, and you my dear wife, are also of importance to , you serve well."

When he finally released her, rida stumbled slightly, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor, chest rising and falling with quiet, controlled breaths.

Mr. Dastin smiled faintly, satisfied. "Good. Now go be a good wife. I expect to see you in bed."

She looked at him for a while but didn’t utter any word ,she turned left, closing the door softly behind her.

For a long mont, the office was silent again.

Then Mr. Dastin exhaled slowly and reached into his desk drawer. He pulled out a small, worn photograph, a younger Lucien, missing a front tooth, smiling bright beside a little racing bike. His eyes were wide and alive, pride radiating from the small dal clutched in his hand.

’Father, look! I won!’ echoed faintly in his mind.

The ghost of that laughter filled the room , innocent, hopeful, distant.

’once i beco an alpha ill be the at the top and help you father, i promise, ill be the best.....’

He clicked his tongue and shoved the photo back into the drawer, closing it with a sharp snap.

"You used to be of importance," he muttered under his breath. "Now you’re just a liability I can’t get rid of."

The pen returned to the paper. The scratching resud , cold, chanical, uncaring.

Outside, the night deepened

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