Chapter 23: Cracks in the Foundation

"Cousin."

"Conan."

Derek let himself into the office without knocking, the door clicking shut behind him with a lazy flick of his wrist. He had passed Xavier on his way in. The Beta’s eyes had narrowed the second he spotted him, that same simmering hostility he always seemed to carry whenever Derek was within ten feet of Becky’s general vicinity.

Denial is such an ugly color on you, Xavier.

Conan didn’t even look up from the papers scattered across his desk at first, despite the greeting. Arguably he should have been more receptive, as he had barely spoken or seen his older cousin in a long time.

Then his nose twitched, and his head lifted slowly, black eyes locking onto Derek.

He sniffed again.

His frown deepened.

"You went to see my wife."

Derek dropped into the chair across from him, making himself comfortable. "That I did," he said, plucking a grape from the bowl on Conan’s desk. "She’s quite spirited, that one."

Conan’s frown didn’t move. If anything, it curdled further.

"What do you want, Derek?"

"Straight to business, as usual. I’ve always liked that about you." Derek popped the grape into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully before leaning forward, the playfulness draining from his face. "What are you going to do about Rosie?"

Conan’s jaw ticked.

"You can’t just leave her hanging there like a loose thread," Derek continued. "From what I’ve heard, the Cancer Pack is still fuming over what you did to Rowan."

"Rowan was a fool," Conan said flatly, leaning back in his chair as well. "He cursed me and my wife in front of the packs, and at our wedding, no less. He deserved exactly what he got."

"Perhaps. But one could argue Rosie deserved worse." Derek’s eyes glittered. "She tried to humiliate the both of you in front of the entire Lycan world. I commend you for holding back as much as you did, truly. But you can’t sit on this forever, cousin. You have to do something."

Conan slowly exhaled through his nose.

"Yes, I know I have to. Incase it hasn’t quite registered to you yet, I have been rather occupied." He snapped, and Derek tilted his head.

"Hmm. There’s more," Derek added, voice dropping. "Your mother is up to something. I don’t know what yet, she has been careful, but I know that look on her face, Conan. She’s up to something. If I were to guess, I’d say she’s scurrying about, searching for ways to nullify your marriage, so you can settle with Rosie."

Conan groaned, dragging both hands down his face before letting his head fall back against the chair.

His mind went over what his mother had told him the day before.

You father would be disgusted by you.

Just because he went ahead with marrying a markless.

His Lycan, Kephalos, stirred within him, still seething from what Rosie had done yesterday.

"I want to bang my head against this wall," he muttered, mostly to the ceiling. "Why is everything so goddamn complicated now that I’m married? For fuck’s sake."

He reached for his phone on the desk, intending to check something, a message, an update, anything, and in his frustration, his grip closed a fraction too hard.

The screen cracked instantly, a spiderweb of fractures blooming across the glass before the whole thing went dark in his palm.

Derek arched a brow, unbothered, popping another grape. "That’s what, the second phone this month?"

"Fifth," Conan bit out, tossing the ruined device onto the desk with more force than necessary.

"Ha."

The door opened again, and Xavier strode in, a brand-new phone already unboxed and held out toward Conan like he had been anticipating this exact moment. He didn’t even blink at the shattered remains of its predecessor, clearly this was routine at this point.

He handed it over silently, and as he turned to leave, his eyes cut toward Derek one final time, a flash of irritation crossing his face before he disappeared back out the door.

Derek watched him go with a faint smirk. "Your Beta doesn’t like me very much."

Conan ignored the comment, already syncing the new phone. "I can’t kill her," he said, returning to the previous topic as if there had been no interruption at all. "Rosie, I mean. It’s too risky. Half the council of Alphas already thinks I’m too volatile as it is."

"Perhaps," Derek said, tilting his head. "But you could banish her. Strip her titles, send her out of Bloodmoon territory entirely. Strike before she strikes, because trust me, cousin, she is going to strike."

Conan’s gaze lifted, meeting Derek’s.

"I’ve considered that."

"I know you have." Derek allowed a small smile. "You have considered a lot of things lately. Which brings me to my next point."

Conan’s eyes narrowed warily. "What."

"Your wife." Derek leaned forward again, resting his elbows on his knees. "When exactly are you planning to sleep with her, Conan?"

Conan’s expression shut down instantly. "You are my older cousin, and I respect you," he said, "but that is none of your business."

"Don’t mistake my question for ordinary affection. I am looking out for you," Derek said, unfazed by the ice in Conan’s tone. "And I’m telling you plainly, you cannot afford to bring any more scrutiny onto the legitimacy of this marriage. Not with Rosie already sniffing around for weaknesses. Not with the council watching every move you make. An unconsummated union is a crack in your foundation, cousin, and cracks only widen."

Conan said nothing for a long moment, jaw working silently as he stared at some fixed point on his desk.

Then he sighed, the sound heavier than Derek expected.

"Hmm." He rubbed a hand across his face. "Perhaps you’re right."

Conan’s mind returned to the original reason he had married Hazel in the first place, and he titled his head.

"I need you to help me find out something, cousin."

Derek immediately straightened. "Whatever you need."

"My wife is a markless, an Omega, and—"

"Don’t we all know it." Derek joked, but immediately pursed his lips due to the glare on Conan’s face. "Go on."

"She’s the daughter of an Alpha, Derek. I know Omegas usually come from either Gammas or Deltas, but her father is an Alpha. Isn’t that strange to you?"

Derek’s eyes narrowed. "That is... true. Now that you mention it, it is indeed concerning. You want me to help you find out what could be the reason? Did you check out ancestral home?"

Conan groaned. "It was the first thing I did. There is something else I am not seeing, and I don’t like it. I would like for you to handle it, help me find out why."

Derek opened his mouth to respond, when Conan’s new phone buzzed against the desk.

He glanced at the screen. Becky.

"Make it quick," he answered, tone clipped.

"Hey, Grumpy," Becky’s voice chirped through the speaker, unbothered by his cold tone. "So, I’m taking Hazel to Ashvale University for the day. Just a little orientation thing, get her familiar with—"

"You are doing what?!"

"Relaxxxx." Becky cooed into the phone. "She needs to get out, Conan, and I can provide her that. I’ll keep her safe, byeeee~"

"Becky, wait don’t—"

Click.

The call ended.

Derek leaned back, a slow grin spreading across his face. "Trouble in paradise?"

"Fuck you."