Chapter Twelve: Did You Enjoy It.

Avery's POV.

The moment my father’s gaze met mine, I froze in place.

My father… here. Why is he here? Did Lucian invite him? I swallowed hard. The questions tumbled over each other in my mind. Was he coming to mock me? To claim I was still his? Or… was he here for me?

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

“Avery,” he said, his voice low, familiar, and warm. “It’s been a long time. Are you—”

I snapped my head slightly, giving him only a faint glance, then turned back to Lucian, pretending as though he didn’t exist. He wasn’t my concern.

He died the moment he decided to send me here.

“Avery…” he whispered again, this time closer, more insistent.

I ignored it. I could hear my own heartbeat in my ears.

Before he could reach across the table to touch me, Lucian’s voice cut through the room:

“I didn’t call you here for a father-daughter reunion.”

The sharpness in his tone made my father falter.

“You sold her, and now she belongs to me. Your ties, your relationship, none of it matters. Do you understand?”

My father opened his mouth, probably to argue, to justify himself, but Lucian’s cane tapped once against the floor.

“She is mine. And her place is at my table, under my rules, as my responsibility… and as my property.”

I felt a spike of anger ripple beneath my skin, but I kept mute.

“She will serve me as I see fit. Any interference from you will be considered a challenge. And challenges are dealt with harshly in my house.”

My father’s shoulders stiffened. His gaze flicked to me, then back to Lucian. I could feel the tension coiling between them.

My father’s eyes followed me, almost pleading, but I didn’t meet his gaze. I wouldn’t give him that.

I carried the tray forward, serving the stew. My hands were steady now, my wolf coiling under my skin, warning me to stay sharp, to be ready, but also oddly satisfied.

“Now,” Lucian continued, “you will remain silent for the rest of dinner. You will leave when it ends. And you will remember your place: you no longer own her. I do.”

“Yes, Alpha,” my father responded, like a man awaiting execution.

Before Lucian could react further, my father reached out a hand, perhaps to touch my shoulder, maybe to plead in person.

The movement was slow, the kind someone makes when they believe no one will notice.

After all, the Alpha was blind.

What could he possibly see?

I froze, the tray trembling slightly in my grip. Lucian’s head tilted, nostrils flaring. Blind, yet he sensed it. He knew.

“You dare lay a hand on her after I warned you?” His voice was low, but it carried an edge that cut through the air like a whip.

“I told you not to insult my senses, Dorian.”

My father froze mid-motion, his confidence draining away. “I—”

Lucian’s fingers curled around the head of his cane. “Since you thought it wise to touch what belongs to me, I’ll be taking one of the arms you used. Choose quickly. Left or right.”

My father opened his mouth, stammering. “I… she’s my—”

The words died in his throat as Lucian’s expression remained unchanged.

“I’m sorry, Alpha,” he rushed out quickly, panic creeping into his voice. “I didn’t mean any disrespect. It won’t happen again. I swear it won’t happen again.”

Lucian’s cane struck the floor once. Tap. The sound alone held power. “Raith. Chop off his right hand.”

The room shifted as Raith and another of Lucian's guards stepped forward. My father’s eyes widened in horror as they grabbed his arms. “What… what are you—”

He turned to me then, pleading, desperation in his eyes. “Avery… help me. Tell him… tell him it wasn’t—”

I stepped back slightly, giving him space, but not mercy. Not a flicker of emotion. You sold me. You betrayed me. You deserve this.

Lucian’s voice cut through his plea, steady and commanding. “She has no say in your fate. I warned you. You chose your path.”

My father’s knees hit the stone as the guards forced him down, the cold floor biting into his skin. He crawled toward me, hands reaching out in futile supplication. “Avery… please… I’m your father… Tell him… I beg you… help me!”

I did not move. I did not flinch. I did not even blink. I wanted to watch this, to feel it, to see him face the consequences of every decision that had ever hurt me.

The room was silent except for my father’s labored breathing and the faint shuffle of the guards. Then the axe fell.

I saw it. Lucian’s command executed without hesitation.

My father screamed, a guttural, ragged sound that would haunt the room forever. The axe struck at his shoulder, and his hand and part of his arm were gone instantly. The loss was immediate, shocking, and absolute.

I did not look away. I watched it all, each movement, each reaction. No pity. None. Only satisfaction that he finally learned his place.

My father’s face contorted in disbelief and pain, eyes wide and begging again. He tried crawling closer to me, reaching out with his remaining arm.

“Avery… please… tell him… I beg you… I’ll do anything… don’t leave me like this…”

I stepped back, keeping my distance. “I won’t help you,” I said coldly. “I cried and begged like this once, and you didn’t listen.”

Lucian’s voice broke through. “She is not your daughter in the pack’s eyes anymore.”

My father whimpered on the floor, crawling helplessly, and I felt nothing but the chill of satisfaction at the justice meted out.

“Stand,” Lucian commanded, finally. My father scrambled upright as best as he could, blood dripping onto the stone, his face pale, lips quivering.

Lucian’s head tilted slightly toward Raith.

“Get him out of my sight.”

Raith didn’t hesitate. He grabbed my father by the collar and hauled him upright while another guard seized his arm.

“No—wait—Avery, please—” my father gasped, his voice cracking as blood dripped steadily onto the floor.

“Throw him out." Lucian added calmly. "And make sure he remembers what happens to those who forget my rules.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

The guards dragged him toward the door.

My father twisted in their grip, his voice growing frantic as they pulled him away.

“Avery! Avery please—!”

The doors slammed shut behind them. Silence fell over the dining hall.

Lucian’s cane tapped softly once against the floor.

“Come here.”

My stomach tightened. Slowly, I turned toward him.

I walked forward until I stood beside the table again. Lucian’s head tilted towards me, his blind gaze lifting toward my face as if he could see every thought I tried to hide.

For a moment, he said nothing.Then his fingers lifted from the head of the cane. And reached for me.

“You watched your father being amputated.”

My pulse skipped. There was something strange in his voice now.

His hand closed gently around my wrist.

“Did you enjoy it, Avery?”

His thumb brushed slowly across the inside of my wrist.

“Watching him suffer.”