Kieran’s POV
The sleek black cars all ca to a sharp, calculated stop, lined in a perfect curve that made the entire courtyard look like a military parade. Not a single door opened at first. Not a single sound escaped. The entire academy, every student, every staff mber, even the goddamn air, froze in silence.
Then, slowly, purposefully, several guards stepped out. Their movents were precise, robotic, as they approached the luxury red limousine at the center of the fleet. One of them stepped forward and reached for the door.
I felt it before it happened.
The shift.
The weight in the atmosphere.
The mont the door cracked open, it was as if the entire world inhaled sharply.
And then he stepped out.
The Alpha King.
My father.
He was enormous, towering in stature, broader than any Lycan present. Clad in a dark burgundy suit and a sweeping black coat that brushed the ground with every step, he looked like he’d walked straight out of a legend and into a battlefield.
I’d heard it my whole life, you look just like him. But every ti I saw him, I realized how far I still had to go.
His eyes, those gleaming, permanent pools of red, swept over the gathered crowd like searchlights, pinning everyone in place with just a glance. His hair was long, streaked with silver and black, slicked back in a perfect wave, not a strand out of place. Regal. rciless.
And then ca the aura.
That damn aura.
It cloaked him like a stormfront, cold and commanding, pressing against every chest in the courtyard. Knees buckled. Breaths hitched. Wolves knelt, heads bowed, not because they were told to, but because they had to.
Even Astrid Voss who stood beside faltered as she knelt down too
I did too.
I dropped to one knee, lowered my head like everyone else.
He was already walking toward , slow and deliberate, each step asured like a countdown to impact. The guards flanked him, but even they looked smaller in his presence.
He stopped just a few feet away.
The entire courtyard was still on their knees, still bowing
I looked up.
Straight into his crimson eyes.
"Hello, Father," I said, voice firm.
His stare burned into mine. Cold. Calculating.
And he smiled.
Just slightly.
And his eyes didn’t blink as they bored into mine.
Then, in that deep, controlled voice that could silence armies, he said, "Stand, son."
I rose without hesitation.
Everyone else remained on their knees, heads bowed, not daring to move or breathe too loudly. The courtyard was a sea of still submission, and I was the only one upright before him.
His gaze swept over from head to toe, slow and assessing, like a general inspecting his soldier after battle. I knew what he was doing, checking for weakness. Scars. Pain. Fear.
I gave him none of it.
His head slowly turned, crimson eyes settling on Astrid, who was still knelt beside the the otherr staffs
"Voss," he said, his tone clipped and cool.
"My King," Astrid answered imdiately, lifting her head but keeping her posture low.
"Get and my son a room."
Astrid stood, bowing slightly. "Of course, my King. It’s this way."
Without another word, she turned, leading us past the assembled students and toward the academy’s executive villa, a place reserved only for the highest of guests. The Alpha King walked beside , and behind us, a dozen of his guards followed in perfect formation, their boots silent despite the gravel path.
We reached the villa, its walls towering with obsidian stone and glass. The guards spread out, flanking the periter as if anticipating war. Astrid opened the doors, her face carefully composed, and gestured inside.
"This is the best suite, my King."
"Wait outside," he commanded, not even glancing at the guards or Astrid
Then he walked inside.
I followed.
And then, with a single motion, he shut the door behind us, and turned the lock.
The Alpha King turned back to face fully, his crimson eyes colder now, sharper, like he was peeling back my skin with just a look.
"Off with your shirt," he commanded.
There was no hesitation in his tone, no room for questions. I didn’t ask why..... I already knew. He wanted to see for him.self. Proof of wounds or scars
I shrugged off my black coat, then pulled off my shirt, baring my chest to him. My skin was unmarred. No wound. No trace of the silver blade that had once pierced straight through my body. I stood tall, still, confident.
He circled .
Slow, calculated steps.
I could feel the weight of his gaze like fire trailing across my flesh. He stopped behind for a mont, silent, then ca to my side again.
"So you’ve already healed completely from the stab wound," he said at last.
I turned my head slightly toward him. "You knew?"
He gave a short breath that almost passed for a laugh. "I am the Alpha King, Kieran. I know everything."
Then, without warning, he looked at once more from head to toe, then his arm snapped forward in a blur.
A punch.
It was fast. Brutal.
I moved just as fast, superspeed kicking in as I flashed backwards, dodging it by inches. The wind of it still stung my cheek.
"Your sharp wits are still intact," he growled. "So why the bloody hell would you allow a re Elite Alpha like Desmond to stab you?! You! The Lycan prince! The next Alpha King! My heir!"
His roar cracked through the room, and the very walls of the villa seed to shudder from the force of it. The chandelier trembled above us.
"Father, I...." I started.
But he turned away, fury written into every line of his towering fra.
"I’ll get back to you after I deal with the rat that dared to touch my son."
He stalked to the door, threw it open.
Astrid and the guards were still there, still waiting silently like statues carved from shadow.
"Get Desmond," the Alpha King growled, voice like thunder layered in ice. "Now."
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