47. Atticus

47

ATTICUS

T he hall felt colder than usual. I stood next to Caius, my muscles tense, ready for whatever game he was about to play. He wore that smug grin that always meant trouble. The large doors creaked open, and a woman walked in. She had a regal air about her, like she owned every inch of the space she moved through.

“I have found you a mate,” Caius announced.

I said nothing, forcing my stance to remain solid, my face an unreadable mask.

“Someone of your caliber needs an equal match. She will bear strong heirs and continue the bloodline. I have selected her personally to ensure our abilities are passed on.” He chuckled, a sound that never boded well. “Well now, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. Let’s get you mated first, shall we?”

He gestured to her with a flourish, as if he were offering a prize. “Meet Valora.”

I glanced at her without turning my head, taking in her presence.

“Isn’t she... delicious?” Caius’s words slithered through the air.

I bit back any response, focusing on keeping my breathing even. Jaw set, I locked eyes with Caius. The urge to turn away from Valora, to deny this farce, itched under my skin. But I gave him nothing. No satisfaction. No win.

“Look at her,” Caius demanded with a command no son should hear from his father.

“I see her,” I growled low, but my gaze never left his.

“Good.” He leaned back, clearly enjoying whatever twisted pleasure he got from this.

Aria’s face flashed in my mind—her smile, the light touch of her hand on mine when the world wasn’t watching. Pain knifed through me, sharp and deep. It was a torture, a mockery of every silent vow we’d shared.

“Atticus?” Caius prodded impatiently.

“Fine choice,” I muttered.

“Remember your place,” he hissed, a warning that held more threat than any physical blow.

My fists clenched at my sides as I stood immovable, the perfect image of an heir accepting his fate. Inside, though, I raged against the chains, against the destiny forced on me. For Aria. For us. There, in that cold hall, I was just another piece in Caius’s cruel game.

“I understand this may not be the path we would have chosen for ourselves.” Valora’s eyes met mine. There was an empathy in her tone that caught me off guard.

I nodded stiffly. The walls, adorned with the grandeur of a lineage I had no part in, closed in on me. A mocking reminder of the pack my father had taken by force and the freedom I was surrendering. Every nod, every polite gesture, was a lie. My heart was not in this room—it was out there with Aria, running wild and untamed. Here, I was caged.

“Of course,” I managed to say. My voice sounded foreign, like I was listening to someone else speak. It was the tone of acquiescence, something I had never been good at. Today, it was my only armor.

“Atticus,” she continued, “we both stand where duty has placed us.”

“So it appears.” I kept my response short, clipped. This meeting wasn’t a new beginning. It was an ending, the death of dreams I’d dared to nurture. My soul rebelled silently, screaming into the void, but on the surface, I remained the dutiful son. The future alpha who would do what was necessary for the pack. Fuck that. I’d do what was necessary for Aria’s safety.

“Let’s do what must be done then,” I said coldly.

I kept my face neutral. Valora didn’t need to see the twister raging behind my eyes, and neither did Aria need to feel it. I focused inward, tightening the mental shields to keep Aria from sensing my uproar. It also meant shutting myself off from whatever she was feeling now, and that hurt more than I cared to admit.

“Son.” Caius broke the silence, pulling me out of my thoughts. “Tonight, we celebrate the new union. The pack shall gather to honor your engagement to Valora.”

I nodded, remembering another announcement, not long ago. Aria’s. How different things were back then. I glanced at Caius, keeping my expression blank, giving nothing away.

“An occasion to remember,” I replied flatly.

“Indeed,” Caius said, his smugness clear. “It will be a night that will define our future.”

“Of course,” I echoed hollowly. This wasn’t about the future. It was about control. His control over me, over the pack, over everything he touched. But not Aria. Never Aria.

I let the false calm wash over me. Caius was still talking about the celebration, but my mind had already drifted to darker thoughts. I needed something, anything that could give me an edge. That’s when it hit me. Maybe I could tap into his mind, search for weaknesses. It was risky, but I had to try.

I let my gaze drop to the floor, feigning submission, as I reached out with my magic, feeling for the familiar texture of Caius’s mental barriers. They were thick and slick, like oil on water. Slowly, I pushed, searching for a crack, any small opening I could exploit.

“Atticus,” Caius said with amusement. My eyes snapped up to meet his. The wicked smirk spreading across his face told me all I needed to know. He’d caught me.

Pain exploded behind my eyes, white-hot and blinding. It felt like my skull was splitting open. I dropped to my knees, gasping, hands clawing at the marble beneath me.

I was desperate to maintain the shields hiding my agony from Aria. She couldn’t know—if she sensed this, she’d rushed to be by my side.

“Boy, I’d think you would know better than to try your old tricks on me.”

I gritted my teeth, trying to find my footing in the searing pain. My field of vision narrowed, darkness creeping in on the edges. Just when I thought I’d pass out, the pain vanished.

“Don’t let it happen again,” Caius warned coldly, “lest I start to question your loyalty.”

I remained on the floor, breathing heavily, as I tried to steady myself. He’d made his point—no one defied Caius and got away with it. Not even his son.

I pushed myself up, each movement measured, a silent battle against the lingering fire in my veins. Valora hadn’t moved an inch, her face unreadable as she observed the aftermath of my father’s display of power.

“Are we done here?” I asked flatly.

“For now,” Caius replied. He turned to Valora. “You’ll find him much more agreeable over time.”

“Of course,” she responded evenly, betraying nothing.

As they walked away, the hall’s opulence suffocated me. The grandeur mocked my inner turmoil. I thought of Aria, her courage, her smile, and how each step I took in this charade dragged us farther apart.

“Atticus?” Valora said lowly, almost kindly, but I couldn’t face her.

“Leave me be.”

“Very well,” she conceded, and I sensed more than saw her retreat.

Leaning against the cold stone wall, I closed my eyes. Each tick of the clock was a reminder of what awaited—chains disguised as honor, love traded for duty. I could feel the significance of the ink on my skin, the tattoos that sealed my fate heavier than any shackle.

I whispered to the shadows, hoping they’d carry my words to Aria. “Forgive me.”

The silence that followed was my only answer, a void where once there was the promise of a life together. The future loomed over me, dark and unyielding.

Feeling the need to escape my thoughts about the future, I ventured outside and walked across to the training grounds.

I leaned against the rough-hewn post at the training yard’s edge, my muscles still aching from what they’d done to me. The Crimson Fang pack moved with precision and power around me, their grunts and the clash of combat ringing in the air like a war drum.

“Thorne,” one of them nodded as he passed, looking at me with a mix of horror and respect. That was new.

“Keep it up,” I grunted back, pushing off the post to wander closer to the action.

The yard was bustling, each member lost in their routine. I settled on a bench where I could see everyone, pretending to watch a pair of sparring wolves. Their moves were sharp, focused, and they didn’t notice me slipping into their minds.

“Atticus,” one of them called out.

“Training hard?” I asked.

“Always,” he replied, then went back to his routine.

Good. They thought I was just another set of eyes. Little did they know I was prying deeper, searching for loyalties, for cracks in the allegiance to my father.

Surprisingly, their heads were wide open. No barriers. It was almost too easy, like Caius had left me a key under the mat. Was it arrogance? A test? Whatever it was, I was going to use it.

I felt my way through the thoughts that swirled around me. I had to be careful not to get caught.

“Hey, you’re not looking so good,” a young wolf remarked, stopping before me.

“Been better,” I said, brushing him off. “Keep your head in the fight.”

“Right.” He hesitated, then turned back to his training partner.

I steadied my mind and kept working. I needed allies, and this was the place to find them.

I dived into the sea of thoughts, a silent intruder among the training soldiers. They were grunts, snarls, and the dull thud of paw against flesh in my ears, but in my mind, it was a din of loyalty, ambition, and distress.

“Push harder,” someone shouted nearby.

“ Is he watching us?” another wolf’s whispered thoughts came to me.

“ Once I’m alpha, I’ll show them all, ” one boasted silently, drunk on promises of power. I noted him as a potential threat—and perhaps an ally.

“Something’s not right with Caius,” a third reflected, a kernel of doubt amidst blind faith. I focused on that one—a free thinker. Might be useful.

“Watch your flank—” The physical warning matched the mental one. Keep your guard up, Atticus.

“Hey, Atticus, you’re zoning out,” someone called.

I blinked, returning to the present. “Strategizing,” I lied easily, locking eyes with the speaker.

He nodded, satisfied, and turned back to his sparring partner.

That was good. It would keep them guessing.

When I’d gleaned enough to know which of the shifters I could turn against Caius, I let my shields slip, just for a second, and reached out to Aria. Stress hit me first, a tight knot in her chest. Interest piqued, sharp and keen, then the steady fire of determination.

What’s got you wound up ? I wondered, feeling the echo of her emotions. I pulled back, erecting my mental barriers once again.

“Atticus, come give us some pointers,” a young wolf jeered, beckoning me over with a taunting smile.

“Maybe later,” I said as I stood. “Keep your eyes open. There’s more to learn than just fighting.”

“Sure thing,” he replied, though I could feel his confusion ripple through the air.

I walked away from the yard, each step heavy with newfound knowledge. Aria was planning something, and I had a list of names to remember—shifters who might not be as blindly loyal as Caius believed them to be. It was a start.

Caius was waiting for me at the door. “Where have you been?”

“I went out to watch the sparring,” I lied.

“I want you in the grand hall in thirty minutes.” He eyed me critically. “And Atticus, wear something smart.”

I nodded and went up to the chamber he had appointed to me. There wasn’t much time to get ready, so I hurried through a shower and dressed.

The grand hall shone like a beacon of forced celebration. Gold banners hung heavy, their edges fluttering in the draft coming through the windows. The tables groaned under the roasted meats and exotic fruits, but the feast was just window dressing. It couldn’t quell the anxious murmurs rippling through the pack.

“Tonight,” Caius boomed, “we mark the union of two great destinies.” His chest puffed out with each word, soaking in the power he wielded over us all.

I stood beside Valora, my expression schooled into neutrality, while my insides twisted with a silent rage I dared not show. She was a statue of composure next to me, her eyes cool and unreadable, betraying nothing she might be harboring behind that serene facade.

“Atticus and Valora will lead the Crimson Fang into a new era.” Caius raised his glass, prompting a chorus of clinks and cheers from the crowd.

“Congratulations,” someone muttered nearby, giving me a nudge.

I nodded, the word ‘thanks’ tasting like ash on my tongue.

Valora turned slightly, her dress whispering against the marble floor. “We should mingle,” she said simply as if we were discussing the weather, not our forced betrothal.

“Of course,” I replied, matching her detached tone. We drifted apart, each stepping into the dance of pretense and politics that Caius so enjoyed orchestrating.

A hush fell over the grand hall as Caius stepped forward. “Let us bear witness to the strength of the Crimson Fang,” he declared, motioning to the center of the room.

Warriors filed in, their muscles taut and eyes focused. Two at a time, they sparred on the marble floor, each move a dance of aggression and skill. The clang of metal echoed off the walls, the sound punctuated by the occasional grunt of effort.

I leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, watching the display. It was meant to impress, to showcase the Crimson Fang’s power. But I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was more than just a show. Caius never did anything without a reason.

“Quite the spectacle, isn’t it?” I murmured to no one in particular.

“It’s amazing,” a nearby pack member agreed.

The warriors moved with a ferocity that stirred the crowd, each blow proof of their training. Caius stood at the edge of the makeshift arena, his face impassive but eyes tracking every movement like a hawk.

“What’s he up to?” I said, my gaze flicking from the combatants to my father.

“Who can say?” came a reply from a bystander. “It’s entertainment, isn’t it?”

“Entertainment,” I echoed skeptically.

My father was many things, but an indulgent showman wasn’t one of them. These tests were a message, a display of unity and strength to anyone who might question his authority—or mine by extension. Behind the spectacle, there would be something else, another layer to the evening’s agenda that only Caius knew.

Each pair of fighters bowed and exchanged blows, their movements a whirl of speed and precision. It was impressive, sure, but it felt hollow. There was no heart in it, just cold calculation.

“Your thoughts, Atticus?” Valora pulled me from my musings. She had returned to my side, her expression unreadable.

“Looks like they’re putting on quite the show,” I said, keeping my tone neutral.

“So it appears,” she agreed, watching as another pair took to the floor. “We both know there’s more to it than that.”

“Always is with him,” I replied, nodding toward Caius without taking my eyes off the fighters.

As the last pair finished their bout, applause rippled through the hall. Caius stepped forward, clapping his hands slowly, a satisfied grin spreading across his lips.

“Excellent,” he announced. “A true demonstration of what it means to be Crimson Fang.”

I clenched my teeth, resisting the urge to challenge him then and there. This wasn’t the time or the place. Whatever game Caius was playing, I’d have to play along, for now.

“Let’s see what else he has planned,” I said to Valora, as the crowd’s attention remained fixed on the grandeur of the hall and the power on display within it.

As the applause echoed through the hall, I slipped into the shadows, my gaze sweeping over the warriors. One by one, I reached out, my mind touching theirs. Surface thoughts, dreams, fears. I sifted through them quietly, taking note of loyalties and doubts.

I had to be careful not to get caught.

I brushed against Valora’s mind, expecting barriers, but found resignation instead. It was like she’d folded her spirit into a neat little box and labeled it with Caius’s name. There was something else, a ripple of power that spoke of control, an ability to weave emotions like threads in a tapestry. Intrigued, I stored that knowledge away.

The martial display wrapped up, and Caius walked to the center with that look in his eye that spelled trouble.

“Let us congratulate our champion,” he bellowed, gesturing to the victor. “Unfortunately, there are questions about Theon’s loyalty. Come forward, Atticus.”

I stepped out from the darkness, keeping my face calm.

Theon’s face had turned ghost-white.

I stepped forward, Theon’s wide eyes locked on mine.

“Atticus, will you judge or show mercy?” Caius asked.

I knew the game, the trap set within each choice. Mercy wasn’t weakness in the real world, but here, it was suicide.

“Judgment,” I said.

A collective intake of breath rippled through the hall. Shadows gathered at my call, tendrils of darkness that slithered and twisted around my arms like living things. The crowd gasped, their unease tangible in the charged air.

“Do as I say and your life might be spared, ” I whispered inside Theon’s mind as my shadows lunged for his throat. Confusion clouded his features as he staggered. I kicked the back of his knees, causing his legs to buckle and sending him crashing to the hard floor.

“ Scream ,” I told him telepathically.

He was still silent, looking up at me with pleading eyes.

“ Scream ,“ I commanded, my mental voice cracking like a whip.

Understanding crossed the stricken man’s face, and he screamed, the raw, desperate sound reverberating through the hall.

“Make it look like you’re choking, do it now.” With a flick of my hand, the shadows obediently wrapped themselves around his throat and chest, but they didn’t tighten their hold.

Putting on a show necessary to save us both, he thrashed across the floor, clawing at his throat as if in a desperate struggle for breath. When the room was sufficiently filled with murmurs and whispers, and the joyful atmosphere turned into one of fear, I let the shadows recede.

“Enough,” I declared, my words echoing off the stone walls.

Theon’s chest heaved as he appeared to desperately gulp down the precious air, a fleeting moment of relief etching across his face. It was short-lived. Caius flicked his wrist and his shadows coiled around Theon’s neck. A sickening crunch followed, and he dropped to the side.

“Get the trash out of here,” Caius snapped, then turned to Valora. “Did you enjoy the show my son put on for you, my dear?”

Valora’s face momentarily tensed up, a brief flash of uncertainty crossing her features, before she turned to my father with a blank smile. “Yes, he is quite powerful.”

Caius watched me intently. “You two should take to the floor. Celebrate your engagement.”

He clapped his hands, gaining the attention of the room. “Crimson Fang, may I introduce your future alpha, Atticus Thorne, and his intended Valora.”

The pack applauded and watched on expectantly. I had no other option but to continue this charade until I could finally bring it to an end. I gave my father a stiff bow and offered a hand to Valora.

The music swelled, a haunting melody that seemed to mock the gravity of what had been announced. Valora took my hand and stepped onto the dance floor, her other hand resting on my arm with an ease that felt out of place. I led the dance mechanically, each step leaden.

“Quite the performance earlier,” she said evenly.

“Performance,” I echoed, keeping my tone neutral. “Is that what this is to you?”

She beamed, though it was fake as hell. “Isn’t everything here a performance in one way or another?”

I couldn’t argue with that. Her calm and the way she moved through Caius’s grand designs without so much as a ripple of discontent irked me. I was a pawn in a game I despised, yet she floated along like she belonged in it.

“Your father has great plans for us,” she continued, her gaze locked on something distant, a dream perhaps only she could see. “For the Crimson Fang.”

“Plans,” I muttered. The word left a bitter taste in my mouth. “What do these plans mean for you, Valora?”

“Opportunity. Unity.” Her words were chosen with care, selected to stitch a narrative she must’ve rehearsed. “A chance to strengthen and lead our pack into a new era.”

“An era of your making?” I prodded, searching for a crack in her poised facade.

“Ours,” she corrected softly, almost convincingly. “If we are united.”

“United.” The word hung between us, heavy and hollow. We spun in time to the music, a flawless display of harmony that was anything but truthful. She was an enigma, a puzzle I wasn’t sure I wanted to solve.

“Trust in the path laid out for us,” she said coaxingly. “In time, you’ll see the wisdom in it.”

I nodded curtly as the song drew to a close. “We’ll see about that.”

A strange sensation pricked at the edge of my mind, a persistent whisper trying to break through the silence. My mental shields were up, but there was something probing, searching for a way in. I followed the trail, a thin silver thread in the darkness of my consciousness.

Valora, I realized. Her presence felt different, sly and smooth, like silk sliding over skin. I let her believe she had found a weakness, feigned a crack in my armor. It took only an instant for her to slip inside.

Her emotions hit me like a wave: longing, desire, contentment. They tried to wrap around me, urging me to embrace the lie. I pushed back my disgust and played along, letting her weave her magic a little longer.

“Atticus?” Even as she spoke, her power worked to coax me into false submission.

“Everything all right?” I asked, keeping my tone even. Inside, I was pushing her influence away, nudging it gently but firmly from the corners of my mind.

“Perfectly.” Triumph flashed in her eyes as she mistook my question for ignorance.

“Good.” The word was a stone, dropped into the still pool of her deception. With a silent exertion of will, I reinforced my shields, sealing them tighter than before.

“Shall we continue?” I offered my arm, the perfect picture of an engaged man, while inside, walls fortified, I was more alone than ever.