Chapter 12

Hael

“Send him in. I’d like a word with my son.” My father’s voice sounded from his office, never failing to incite a flash of rage deep in my bones. It turned my skin to sandpaper, making it all too unbearable staying locked in this fleshy form.

Fan-fucking-tastic

“Hael, Alpha would like a word with you.” Macon, my father’s Beta appeared from around the corner.

I held back a dry laugh as I always did when I heard the three-hundred-and-fifty-pound man call my father ‘Alpha.’

Only Alpha Xavier could occupy the same office for twenty-three years and not have a single spec of personality within the bland egg-shell colored walls. There were no pictures, no awards, no plaques. Just a pristine office with crisp blinds and a desk that had never seen a single scratch or spec of dust. Sitting behind it, on the Givenchy leather chair my mother had gifted him four Christmases ago, was my father.

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