Chapter 79 – The Warning Before the Storm

David’s Father’s POV

Today was just like every other day — quiet, heavy, and far too human.

I stepped into the house, the faint scent of pinewood and polished marble mixing with the lingering trace of wolf pheromones that marked our territory.

“Drop it in my room,” I said, handing my traveling bag to the butler.

“Yes, Alpha.” The butler bowed deeply before taking the bag. His wolf scent — submissive and respectful — trailed after him as he left.

I loosened my collar and exhaled. “Where’s my wife?”

“In the dining room, sir,” he replied quickly.

I nodded, but before I could take another step, something sharp sliced through the air.

A familiar scent.

My muscles froze instantly. My wolf stirred inside me, snapping to attention.

That scent—earth, steel, and rain—belonged to only one person.

David.

My son.

The air thickened around me. The beast inside rumbled, restless. The house had been empty of his scent for years, and now it rushed through my senses like wildfire.

I didn’t walk. I vanished.

In one burst of speed, I moved like lightning down the long marble hallway. My form blurred past paintings, curtains flapping violently in my wake. I reached the dining room in seconds — my heartbeat matching the rhythm of my power.

The scent was strongest here.

And then I saw him.

David sat at the table, the soft glow of the chandelier painting his sharp features in gold. His aura filled the entire room, dominating it even though he was seated.

My wife hovered near him, placing food on his plate with shaking hands, trying too hard to act normal.

I inhaled quietly, masking the pride that threatened to escape my chest.

“David, you’re here.”

I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. I couldn’t let him know how quickly I’d run to get here.

He turned to look at me, his golden eyes reflecting faint silver under the light — the mark of an awakened Alpha bloodline. His wolf was awake. Fully.

My chest tightened.

“I would be lying if I said I didn’t miss you,” I murmured, but the words felt weak under the weight of his gaze.

David rose slowly, the chair creaking as his power leaked out unconsciously. The air trembled around him.

“It’s good you’re back,” he said, voice low and cold. “Finally, I can say my piece.”

His tone made my wife flinch. She wasn’t used to her son’s dominance pressing against her like this — the very authority of an Alpha pushing at her own aura.

“You and Mom,” David continued, his voice deepening, “will call back your people. Tell them to stop tracking Mannie’s every move. You already destroyed her once. I won’t let you do it again.”

The anger in his tone vibrated through the room, carrying his wolf’s growl beneath it — low, primal, barely restrained.

My wife’s eyes flashed amber. Her own wolf stirred, offended.

“That girl is not your former mate!” she shouted, voice sharp as a whip. “She’s a gold digger! None of those pups are yours! Eight children? Do you think your seed spreads like wildfire?”

The moment she raised her voice, the wolves in both of them reacted. The temperature in the room dropped.

David’s pupils dilated, his aura thickening until even the chandelier trembled.

“Oh?” His lips curved into a dangerous smirk. “I thought you claimed you didn’t know what happened five years ago. The night I almost died.”

His growl deepened — not loud, but enough to make the walls pulse. “Didn’t you both say it was a blackout? That we had collective amnesia?”

I could hear the pain laced under the anger — old, raw, festering.

“You finally decided to stop pretending,” he said, stepping closer.

His mother’s wolf bristled, her eyes flickering fully gold. “You don’t understand what you’re doing, David! That human—”

“She’s not human,” he cut in, his voice vibrating with power. “Not completely. My wolf recognized her scent before I did.”

My heart stopped for a beat.

His mate scent? Impossible. He never had a mate and the one closest to a mate was already buried.

“She’s not your mate,” my wife hissed. “You can’t feel her bond clearly because you’re confusing grief for connection. You’ll destroy yourself if you stay with her!”

David’s laugh was short, bitter. “And who decides that? You?”

The weight of his aura spiked again, pressing down on both of us. Even I had to steady my stance.

“Enough,” I said finally, rubbing my temple. My wolf was restless beneath my skin, demanding I assert dominance before my son’s power filled the room completely.

But I didn’t want to fight him.

Not again.

“David,” I said calmly, my tone carrying just enough Alpha authority to ground the energy. “We’re not your enemies.”

“I don’t care,” he said, jaw tight. “She has my child. And she is Annie. If anything happens to her, you’ll regret it.”

His words came out with a rumbling growl beneath them — one that vibrated through the air like distant thunder.

My wolf bristled in response, instinctively rejecting his challenge.

I clenched my fists. “Watch your tone,” I warned. “Would disrespect protect your lover or your pups?”

“Would obedience protect them?” he shot back.

The silence that followed was thick with dominance — wolf against wolf, father against son, Alpha against Alpha.

For a few tense seconds, even the air seemed to hold its breath.

Then, slowly, I exhaled and raised a hand. “Let’s not do this. Not here. Sit. Let’s talk like men, not beasts.”

He didn’t move. But his aura eased slightly, enough for the chandeliers to stop rattling.

I took that as a win.

“If she’s truly your mate,” I said, tone softer, “then we won’t interfere. And if the pup is yours, we’ll welcome them into the pack.”

My wife gasped quietly, but I didn’t stop.

“However,” I added firmly, “if the test says otherwise, you’ll return home and fulfill your duty to the pack. No arguments.”

She dug her nails into my arm beneath the table, her wolf whispering through the bond for me to stop, but I didn’t flinch.

David studied me quietly for a long moment. The gold in his eyes flickered, his wolf assessing me.

“Fine,” he said finally, his tone clipped but steady.

The word carried power — an unspoken truce.

My wife’s relief came out in a shaky exhale, though her wolf still growled low in her chest.

“What’s the name of this woman?” I asked after a moment, voice calm again. “The one causing all this?”

“Mannie,” David said. “And she’s not just my lover. She’s the mother of my children.”

My wife and I exchanged looks, confusion flickering between us.

Mannie.

Not Annie.

But the name, the sound — too close to ignore.

My wolf stirred. The scent of fate lingered faintly in the air, strange and familiar.

“Have you confirmed if the pups are yours?” I asked, though I already knew he was serious.

“It’s underway,” he said simply.

His tone left no room for questions. His wolf was done talking.

He turned to leave.

My wife panicked. She reached out and grabbed his wrist. “David, please—”

He pulled his hand free with one firm motion, not even looking back.

“Stay the night,” I said quickly, trying to keep him a little longer. My wife’s mental voice brushed against mine through our bond — don’t let him go.

But his decision was made.

“No,” he said, heading for the door. “I only came to warn you.”

He paused, the faint silver glow of his eyes catching the chandelier light. “Don’t do anything that will make me hate you forever.”

Then he was gone.

My wife ran after him, her wolf half-awakened, desperation spilling through her movements. “David!” she called. “Please!”

He didn’t stop. Didn’t turn.

He just kept walking — power rolling off him like waves.

The door closed behind him with a heavy thud, echoing like a growl in the still air.

When the sound of his steps vanished, she stopped, trembling. Then she stomped one small foot, frustration bleeding into her aura.

Her shoulders shook. Her wolf whimpered quietly through the bond.

I sighed and stood, walking to her. I lifted her gently, my hand brushing her trembling arm.

“Enough,” I said softly.

Her eyes glistened with golden tears. “Why can’t he understand our fears?” she whispered brokenly. “If that thing hadn’t happened to Celina… I wouldn’t be like this. I just don’t want him to end up cursed.”

Her voice cracked, her wolf crying beneath the words.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders, pressing her head to my chest. “If he keeps making you feel this way every time,” I murmured, “then maybe we should work hard and have another pup instead.”

She punched my chest — light, but trembling. “Don’t joke.”

Her breath hitched as she tried not to cry.

I smiled faintly, brushing a kiss on her forehead. “I hate seeing you like this,” I said. “So let’s fix it.”

She looked up, her golden eyes dim under the soft light. “How?”

I tilted my head, a slow, dangerous grin spreading across my face.

“Let’s go warn her,” I said quietly. “Tomorrow. Make her understand who she’s dealing with.”

She hesitated only for a second before nodding.

“Okay,” she whispered, leaning her head on my chest.

Outside, the moonlight spilled across the windows — silver and sharp.

Our wolves stirred together beneath our skin, already sensing what was to come.

Tomorrow, we would meet Mannie.

And the pack would finally face the storm our son had chosen.

“Okay,” my wife said again, her head still pressed against my chest.