Ronan
I button up my black cotton shirt almost all the way, leaving the top two buttons undone. Father hates it when we look disheveled or unkempt, even though we're in our own fucking house and there's literally no one around to impress.
Seeing him is never easy. It's been two years already, but no matter how often we visit, that sight…
Let's just say it wasn't a poisoned wound. If I believed in curses, I'd swear that's exactly what it was.
Don't start panicking yet, my wolf snaps, clearly irritated by my growing restlessness. He hates feeling these emotions—loathe to sit with fear or dread—but I can't stop myself from dragging him down with me.
Well, tough fucking luck.
Fuckface, he growls back, and I can't help but smirk. Crude as he is, he always finds a way to pull me out of my own head, even now.
Footsteps echo down the hallway toward my door, heavy and familiar. I don't even need to look. I already know who it is—Kael and Lucien. My brothers.
"Let's go," I say as I swing the door open and step into the corridor. Being the "oldest" of the three, I guess it's always fallen on me to take the lead.
They each give me a grim nod, saying nothing as they fall in behind me. Their faces are tight, jaws clenched, eyes hollow with the weight we all carry.
And I don't blame them.
Every visit to our father could be the last. We never say it aloud, but all three of us know—we're constantly bracing for the moment when the worst finally happens.
"What should we talk about this time?" Lucien asks, his fingers twitching at the collar of his crisp gray shirt. He fucking hates wearing those things, so his hands always go to the collar, like they've got a mind of their own.
"Keep it light, as always," Kael replies, smoothing a hand over his perfectly styled hair. Out of the three of us, he's the one who actually enjoys dressing up. "His birthday's coming up, so we can talk about that."
"Yeah," I mutter, my voice coming out rougher than I meant it to. "Just stick to his birthday. He'll like that."
We stop outside the old man's door right as the words leave my mouth, and all three of us let out a collective sigh—heavy and resigned.
And of course, it's me who has to knock. Again.
"Come in, please!" one of Father's maids calls, offering us a polished, professional smile before bowing and quietly slipping out, leaving us alone with him.
He looks like shit. Worse than last time. And that—
That fucking hurts.
Our father, Alpha Rhaegor Thorne—once one of the strongest alphas on the entire continent—is now just a husk. A shell of the man he used to be, slowly being eaten alive by the poison that still creeps through his veins. A gift from a mad rogue.
"Hello, Dad," Lucien says, pasting on a smile as he steps forward.
He's always been Father's favorite. Lucien's a fox—clever, charming, a master at playing the part. He knows how to make people feel at ease, even if he doesn't give a shit about them.
But with Father, it's different.
He does care. Maybe more than the rest of us would like to admit.
"You all look tired," Father says with a strained smile that does nothing to soften the pallor of his withered face. I almost scoff, but bite it back. He's the last person who should be commenting on appearances. "You shouldn't have wasted your time on me, tsk."
That familiar click of his tongue is all it takes to set Kael's wolf on edge, a low snarl building in his chest; but Lucien's already there, elbowing him sharply in the ribs before he can open his mouth.
"Your birthday is tomorrow, old man," I cut in, casting Kael a warning glance. "Everyone prepared gifts. Selene, too."
"Gifts? Tsk. What a waste of effort." He clicks his tongue again, but this time, I catch the faint flicker of something behind his eyes. A spark. He has a soft heart, buried deep beneath all that stubborn pride. I know it's there. He just does everything he can to pretend it isn't.
Stupid old fool.
"I've got one foot in the grave," he mutters, eyes drifting toward the ceiling as if he sees something the rest of us can't. "I'd rather spend my final days quietly… without the fuss."
"Tsk, old fucking moron," Kael grumbles under his breath, not quite quiet enough. Luckily, Father doesn't hear him this time. Lucien lets out a low growl and throws Kael a sharp glare, practically daring his wolf to come out.
I exhale a long, tired sigh.
"You're burying your flame prematurely," I say, stepping between Father's bed and Kael to ease the tension. "Everyone's looking forward to your birthday—you should at least try to match the energy."
For a moment, he says nothing. Then his gaze grows distant, and his voice drops to a dazed murmur, as if he's no longer speaking to us but to some phantom in his mind.
"I've been having a strange dream… it keeps repeating. Always the same."
His tone is haunting, quiet.
"There's a war. Fire everywhere. Werewolves tearing each other apart… slaughtering their own kind. But then, a young woman appears. A strong one. And somehow, she stops it all—saves them. I wonder… what it means."
"Another absurd fever dream!" Kael snaps again, his voice sharp with frustration. This time, Lucien doesn't bother holding back. He's out of patience.
"Let's go," he says tightly, grabbing Kael by the shoulder and steering him toward the door. "If you can't control yourself, then you don't get to stay."
As usual, Kael doesn't fight it. He never does. We've all grown used to his outbursts by now. It's not that he resents Father—far from it. If anything, Kael cares the most. But that's exactly the problem.
He's terrified.
Family means everything to him, and watching it slowly fall apart… that's a truth he just can't accept.
"Don't mind him. You know how he is," I sigh, dragging my fingers through my now-messy hair, trying to smooth it down as the tension in the room lingers.
"Ronan."
My name stops me cold.
Father's voice has changed—low, sharp, suddenly edged with something grim.
"Selene… are you sure about her?"
"What?" My eyes snap to his face, widening as his words take longer than they should to sink in.
"At this point, it's pretty clear she's our mate," I say, trying—and failing—to keep my voice calm. "The priest will bless the bond soon. It'll be official. And with you… in your condition, we need a Luna. She's the best choice."
I leave the room with my chest clenched so tight it feels like I can't breathe.
This is the first time he's ever questioned Selene. And I don't know why, but it leaves a sour taste in my mouth.
We never found our fated mates. Neither did she. So what does it matter?
She's from a noble bloodline, raised from birth to become a Luna. She's strong, poised, and knows how to lead. She is the right choice.
She has to be.
"Alpha!"
The panicked voice yanks me out of my thoughts. I turn instinctively—
A maid is sprinting down the hallway toward me, her face flushed, eyes wide with tears.
"Alpha, please! You need to help her!"
"Help who?" Lucien and Kael suddenly appears next to me, just as confused.
"It's Karina," the maid wails. "Please, you have to stop the punishment!"