[Xander’s POV]
Connor turns his discovery into a weapon.
He doesn’t report us; he taunts. At meals he drops barbed hints only Daphne and I catch. “Loyalty matters, brother. Honoring bonds. Staying faithful,” he says, voice pleasant. Talia frowns; my father eats on; Daphne goes pale, her fork clattering.
“Some wolves,” he adds, eyes on me, “can’t control their instincts. They take what isn’t theirs.”
I squeeze my knife until it creaks and keep my tone level. “Funny—most disloyal wolves project their own failings.”
He smiles, vicious. “I’m just observing. Noticing what others miss.”
All week he keeps at it—jabs about “inappropriate relationships,” “betrayed trust,” and wolves who can’t keep away from what belongs to others—reminding us he holds the knife.
My father notices the tension, but he misreads it completely.
A week after the library, he pulls me aside after a council meeting. His hand clamps on my shoulder—not paternal, but dominant. Alpha asserting authority over his subordinate.
"Walk with me," he says. It's not a request.
We move through the gardens in tense silence until we're far enough from pack members that we won't be overheard. Then he turns to face me, his expression hard.
"You will accept Daphne as Luna." His voice carries Alpha command—the kind that makes wolves submit instinctively. "Your jealousy is noted, but I won't tolerate continued disrespect toward her or toward my authority."
"Jealousy?" My laugh is bitter, hollow. "Is that what you think this is?"
"What else would it be?" His eyes flash gold—wolf rising to the surface. "You've wanted her for years. I've seen it. The way you watch her. The tension between you. But she's mine now. My Luna. My mate. My chosen."
Each word is a hammer blow. My hands clench into fists at my sides.
"She belongs to me," he continues, his possessiveness absolute. "And you need to accept that. Whatever feelings you think you have—they don't matter. She's bonded to me. Marked by me. She made her choice."
"She didn't have a choice." The words slip out before I can stop them.
His eyes narrow dangerously. "Explain."
I can't. Can't tell him about the drugged tea without proof. Can't reveal what happened in the library without signing our death warrants. Can't do anything but stand here and let him think I'm just a jealous son bitter about losing to his father.
"Nothing," I force out. "It doesn't matter."
"No. It doesn't." He steps closer, using his height advantage, his Alpha dominance, to make me feel smaller. "So here's what's going to happen. You will show Daphne the respect her position demands. You will stop this sulking, this obvious resentment. You will accept her as Luna and me as her mate."
The ultimatum hangs in the air between us.
"And if I can't?" The question is quiet, dangerous.
"Then you leave the pack." His voice is cold, final. "I won't have division in my ranks. I won't have my own son undermining my authority or making my Luna uncomfortable. Accept it, or go. Those are your only options."
He doesn't wait for my response—just turns and walks away, leaving me standing in the garden with rage and helplessness warring in my chest.
I could fight him. I'm strong enough—maybe even stronger than he is. I've been training harder, fighting more brutally, pushing myself past every limit while he's grown comfortable in his power.
But victory would make me Alpha. And any wolves loyal to my father—and there are many—would rebel. The pack would tear itself apart. Civil war over a Luna who's already legally bonded to him.
There's no winning. No path forward that doesn't destroy everything.
Later that evening, I find Daphne in the garden.
She's sitting on the stone bench near the rose bushes, still wearing her formal Luna dress from the afternoon's meetings. Trying to maintain normalcy while everything crumbles around us.
My father has been more attentive since the library. I've noticed—how could I not? He touches her constantly during pack functions. Keeps her close. Marks her with his scent more aggressively, like he senses the threat I pose even if he doesn't understand its nature.
"You shouldn't be out here alone," I say quietly, approaching slowly.
She doesn't look up. "I needed air. Needed to think."
I sit beside her, careful to leave space between us. Close enough to feel the bond humming, but far enough that we won't draw attention if someone sees.
"He made love to me last night," she says, her voice carefully neutral. "For hours. Like he was trying to erase you from my skin."
The words hit like physical blows. My hands clench into fists on my thighs, rage and jealousy burning through my veins.
"Did it work?" My voice comes out rougher than intended.
"No." She finally meets my eyes, and the pain there mirrors my own. "I felt you the whole time. This pull, the need for you... it won't go away. Every time he touches me, I think of you. Every time I close my eyes, I see you."
Through our bond, I feel her anguish. Her guilt. Her desperate love for me warring with duty and fear and the other bond tethering her to my father.
"Daphne—"
"But I'm his Luna." Her voice breaks. "I took vows before the pack. Wore white and spoke promises I can't take back. There's no way out that doesn't destroy everything. Doesn't get us both killed."
She's right. And I hate it. Hate pack law and sacred bonds and every fucking thing that keeps us apart.
"So we're trapped," I say. "You're bonded to him. I can't challenge him without destroying the pack and losing you anyway. And Connor—"
"Connor knows," she finishes. "And he's enjoying this. Watching us suffer."
That night, as if summoned by our conversation, Connor corners me in the training hall.
I've been destroying practice dummies again—anything to work off the rage and helplessness. He appears from the shadows like the snake he is, his expression gleeful.
"Working off some frustration, brother?" His voice drips with false sympathy.
I don't stop hitting the dummy. "What do you want, Connor?"
"Just checking in." He leans against the wall, examining his nails with exaggerated casualness. "Making sure you're... managing. It must be so difficult, watching Father with her. Touching her. Making her scream his name every night."
My fist goes through the dummy's chest. Wood splinters.
"I could tell Father what I saw, you know." Connor's voice turns contemplative. "The Luna and his eldest son. In the library. Very... energetic. That's execution for both of you under pack law. Adultery with the Alpha's own son—there's no greater betrayal."
I turn to face him slowly. "What. Do. You. Want."
"Entertainment, mostly." His smile is cruel, satisfied. "Watching you both suffer, knowing you can't have each other, knowing one word from me destroys everything—it's delicious. Better than any meal. Better than any fuck."
“You twisted fucker,” I snarl, but Connor just laughs.
Connor holds our secret. He's vicious enough to use it. And I'm desperate enough to do anything—including murder—to protect her.
We're all trapped in a game with no winners.
And the only question left is who breaks first.