Alpha Derick's POV
I turned, my grip on Steven's throat loosening slightly as my Beta and two warriors dragged a struggling young man into the room. His body was tense, his movements sharp and frantic as he fought against their hold. But it wasn't his resistance that caught my attention—it was his eyes.
Blue. A striking, piercing blue.
Something about them sent a jolt through me, a sense of familiarity I couldn't place. I furrowed my brows, staring at the young man as he met my gaze—not just with fear, but with curiosity.
My frown deepened as I realized something unsettling.
My raging wolf, once seething with anger, had suddenly gone still—like ice-cold water had been poured over it.
Who is he? Why does he seem so familiar?
"Let my son go!" Steven yelled, his voice laced with fear. His body trembling in my grip.
My gaze snapped back to the young man, realization crashing over me.
His son.
Nathan.
The breathlessly Beautiful young man standing before me was Nathan. Nathan, my… once close buddy.
Memories flooded my mind. Flashes of the good times. We're running through the mansion, climbing trees, Hiding, seeking, playing until we collapsed from exhaustion.
A sudden, unexpected emotion consumed me, but I shoved it down.
I released Steven, letting him crumple to the marble floor, gasping for breath as he clutched his bruised throat. My attention, however, was now entirely on Nathan. I took a step closer, and my men yanked him forward, forcing him to his knees before me.
He didn't cower.
He didn't beg.
His sea blue eyes burned with hatred, his lips pressed into a firm line. It seems he doesn't recognize me yet.
"Nathan?" I mused, crouching before him, tilting my head as I studied his face. He had his father's jawline, but the shape of his eyes, the sharpness of his features, was nothing like Steven.
Behind me, Steven coughed violently, his voice rasping. "Please… he has nothing to do with this… Let him go… He doesn't even have a wolf."
That struck me. Nathan was wolfless.
No wonder I hadn't sensed any energy around him.
I chuckled darkly. "Oh, now you're begging?"
I turned my gaze back to Nathan, reaching out to grip his chin, forcing him to look at me.
"Tell me, little man, are you as much of a traitor as your father?"
His jaw tightened, his glare deepening. "I don't even know who the hell you are."
The corner of my lips twitched, amusement flaring in my chest. Foolish boy.
"You don't know me?" I asked, watching his expression closely. "Derick. Do you remember… Derick?"
Nathan's eyes widened. The hatred in his eyes now replaced with disbelief.
Nathan's face twisted in shock, his lips parting, searching for words that wouldn't come. His breath hitched, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Derick…" His voice cracked as his eyes scanned my face like he was seeing a ghost. "No… No, you can't be him. You—You were—"
"Dead?" I finished for him, my voice as cold as ice. "I was."
I leaned in closer, my grip on his chin tightening.
"Derick died the day your father slaughtered my parents right in front of me. The boy you knew, the boy who laughed with you, who called you his little brother—he ceased to exist that day."
Nathan's breath shuddered. His entire body trembled, not from fear of death, but from something deeper.
Grief. Regret.
"Derick, please…" he pleaded. "I didn't know. I swear, I didn't know what my father did to you. If I had known, I would have—"
I scoffed and shoved him backward. "You would have what, Nathan? Saved me?"
My laughter was dark, humorless. "Don't flatter yourself."
He tried to crawl forward, his hands pressing against the blood-stained marble floor. "Please, Derick, I—"
I ignored him.
I turned my back to him, stepping toward Steven, who still lay on the floor, coughing and gasping for air like the pathetic worm he was.
Nathan's breathing grew ragged behind me. "Derick, please… don't do this. He's the only family I have."
I turned around to him, my glare silencing his pleas.
"Lucky you," I scoffed. "You'll only have to watch this scene once. But I… I watched it twice."
I turned back to Steven, who had barely managed to sit up. His eyes darted between me and Nathan, a glimmer of desperate hope in them.
"Please… my son—"
I lunged.
My claws tore into his chest, my fingers wrapping around his ribs and snapping them like twigs.
He screamed—a wretched, bloodcurdling sound—as I lifted him off the floor by his broken ribs, his blood pouring down my arms.
Nathan let out a choked cry. "No! No, please!"
He struggled against the warriors holding him down, his body thrashing. "Stop! Derick, stop!"
I didn't stop.
I dug my claws deeper, feeling the frantic beating of Steven's heart beneath my fingers.
"Do you know what it's like to watch your own mother being raped? To watch your parents butchered before your eyes, Steven?" My voice was eerily calm. "To smell their blood thick in the air while you stand there, helpless?"
I leaned closer, watching as his face twisted in agony.
"No, you don't. But you will."
With one final, merciless tug, I ripped his heart from his chest.
The wet squelch of torn flesh and the crack of breaking bone filled the air.
Blood splattered across my face, warm and thick.
Steven's body spasmed violently before going limp, his lifeless eyes still wide with horror.
Nathan screamed. A raw, broken sound that shattered through the silence. "No! NO!"
I turned to face him, holding his father's still-beating heart in my palm. Blood dripped down my fingers, dropping to the floor.
I took a step forward and tossed the heart at his feet. It landed with a sickening thud.
"Watch closely, Nathan." My voice was hollow, devoid of emotion. "This is the fate of traitors."
Nathan's entire body shook as he stared at the bloody organ before him, his breaths coming in sharp, uneven gasps. Tears welled in his striking blue eyes, but I felt nothing.
No pity. No remorse.
Only satisfaction.
I crouched in front of him, tilting my head slightly.
"Now… what will I do with you?"