Chapter 272: Threads so black 3

CHRIS

His eyes were cold, calculating, assessing the situation with the detached pragmatism of a man who’d already decided the value of every piece on the board. "Your son is right, Beta," he said, his voice flat. "Sentiment is a liability in wartime. Family is no excuse for potential treason."

He nodded to the sentinels. "Do as he proposed. Take her to the holding cells."

"No," my father said, stepping forward, his voice cracking. "Alpha Armand, please. She’s my daughter. She’s not a traitor, she’s just confused."

"She’s a risk," Armand said, and there was finality in his tone, the absolute authority of an Alpha who had already made his decision. "And your son is showing more sense than you are right now. Perhaps you should listen to him."

The sentinels reached for Shanelle. She jerked away from their hands, her eyes finding mine, burning with a hatred I’d never seen directed at me before. "Fuck you, Chris," she screamed as they grabbed her arms. "Fuck you! She’s going to hate you for this. She’s going to hate you forever!"

I watched them drag her away, my sister thrashing against their grip, her words echoing in my ears. She’s going to hate you forever. The thought should have hurt more than it did. Instead, I felt only a strange, hollow certainty. Margaux would understand eventually. Once she was free, once Étienne was dead and the spell of his manipulation was broken, she would see that I’d done this for her. She would thank me.

I turned back to find my father standing directly in front of me, his chest heaving, his face a mask of barely controlled rage. He grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into the muscle hard enough to bruise. "Excuse me, Alpha," he said, his voice tight. "I need to speak with my son."

Armand waved his hand, already turning back to his maps, to his emissaries, to his war. "Make it quick," he said. "I want you... and him back in here for strategy."

My father dragged me out of the chamber, down the hallway, around the corner into an empty alcove where the tapestries muffled sound. He shoved me against the wall, his hands bunched in my shirt, lifting me slightly onto my toes. "Are you insane?" he hissed, his breath hot against my face. "Have you lost your mind completely? That was your sister. Your blood."

I shoved him back, breaking his grip, straightening my shirt with deliberate calm. It shocked him.

"This is stuff you taught me," I said. "Sacrifice for the greater good. Hard choices. The Beta’s son learns to make the hard calls, isn’t that what you always said?"

"Not like this," he retorted, his voice shaking. "Never like this. You just had your own sister imprisoned. You struck her. What happened to you?"

"What happened to me?" I laughed, a short, bitter sound. "I grew up and I stopped waiting for permission to act. Is that what pisses you off father?"

I stepped closer to him, lowering my voice. "And while we’re on the subject, let’s talk about why you’re so upset. Is it really about Shanelle? Or is it about the fact that I’m no longer your pet project? You can be angry but I am also doing this to kill two birds with one stone."

My father’s face went still, that careful blankness he used when he was negotiating, when he was hiding something. "What are you talking about?"

"The Archambaults," I said. "We benefited from their elimination, didn’t we? We moved up in the hierarchy. We took their place at the Alpha’s right hand. And we had a hand in it, didn’t we? We would be in Étienne’s revenge book too, if he knew the full truth. I gave him something and I am certain that he does know it all."

My father stared at me, his mouth slightly open, his skin going gray. "Where the fuck did you hear that from?"

"Lucian," I replied, watching his reaction carefully. "Before he ran. He told me plenty of interesting things about the old days, about who really held the knives when the Archambaults fell. He seemed to think our family was more involved than the official story suggests."

"And you believe that traitor?" My father’s voice rose, then cracked. He looked around the hallway as if expecting listeners, then leaned in close, hissing. "We had nothing to do with it. Nothing. Yes, we benefited. Yes, we stepped into the vacuum. But we didn’t kill anyone. We didn’t give the orders."

My father’s hands bunched into fists at his sides. He looked old suddenly, older than I’d ever seen him, the lines around his mouth deep enough to cut.

"Is that why you’re doing this?" He then asked, tilting his head. "Is that why you’re fighting me on this war? Not just because you are obsessed with Margaux, but because you’re afraid of what Étienne might do if he learns the truth about our potential family’s role in his family’s destruction? Is that what this is about for you? Not just the girl, but covering our tracks? Protecting the family from a ghost?"

I shrugged, a casual gesture that belied the tension coiling in my gut. "Well, it works for me either way. I get Margaux, or I help this family, or both. If we’re guiltless, then this is still about Margaux. If we’re not, then I’m saving our skins along with hers. Either way, I’m not stopping."

"At the expense of your sister?" My father’s voice broke. "She stood in your way, so you had her dragged away like a criminal?"

"She stood in the way," I corrected. "Just like you’re doing right now."

I reached out and tapped his shoulder, a gesture that was almost gentle, almost sympathetic. "The Alpha is in a strange place right now. He’s wounded. He’s angry. He’s looking for people he can trust, people who will give him what he wants without question. Right now, I’m giving him that. I’m giving him blind obedience, a target for his rage, a solution to his problem. You, on the other hand, are starting to look like an enemy. You’re practically questioning his decisions in public. You’re defending a what you should never defend in theory. You’re making yourself uncomfortable to swallow."

My father flinched as if I’d struck him.

"If me and my agenda make this difficult for you," I continued, "if you can’t stand to see your son doing what needs to be done, then reframe it. Take it as a simple war of dominating Valcourt. We expand our territory. We eliminate a threat. We secure our place in the new order that’s coming. Think of it as business, Father. Think of it as just doing your duties."

I stepped back, smoothing my hair, checking my reflection in the polished shield that hung on the wall. I looked calm. I looked sure. I looked like a man who knew exactly what he was doing.

"Now," I said, turning back to him with a smile that didn’t reach my eyes. "Shall we return to the council? The Alpha is waiting."