Chapter 4: The Promise

Skylar's POV

Dad's eyes were the size of saucers as he took in our intimate position, his arms crossing over his chest.

My face burned hotter than a thousand suns. Fear, anxiety, panic— everything flooded my insides all at once.

I pushed Ross off me, maybe with a little too much pressure and the impact sent him tumbling to the ground.

But that didn't stop my hands from shaking with panic.

Ross collected himself from the ground so calmly, looking straight at Dad with this innocent look on his face.

"Sky was only checking out my skills, Dad. It's but a big deal." He said casually.

For a fleeting minute, I was a bit distracted by the way he said "dad". When did he start calling Dad that?

Or was it a distractive mechanism?

Because Dad looked thoroughly surprised and distracted from the situation at hand. He now has a soft smile on his face.

"I had no idea you met your brothers already." He said, training his eyes on me. "What skills are you checking them out for?"

I inhaled sharply. I couldn't see his gaze. I fumbled through my brain. What skills?

But Ross was a mother-freaking pro at lying.

He said, "She wanted to see if we had what it takes to join the school's volleyball team. Defeat her in hand-to-hand combat and stuff. Right, Sky?"

"Right," I said slowly. "The volleyball team."

Dad laughed. "Of course, you can defeat Skylar. She doesn't even have her wolf and she hasn't gone through the intense alpha training you boys went through."

Dad's words landed like a slap and I bit my bottom lip. Hard.

Did he really need the reminder?

Anger surged through me. I wanted no part in where this conversation was heading so I turned around and started towards the door.

Dad's voice stopped me.

"Sign your brothers into the volleyball team. Don't worry,  Henderson knows their capability."

I was caught off guard. "Well, I— uhm..." I trailed offy thinking of the perfect excuse. "The form isn't—"

"I have the recruitment form here." Myron's voice suddenly entered the room.

He strolled in, practically shoving the paper in my face, and I couldn't miss the triumph in his gaze as he handed me a pen.

"That's great, then," Dad said as he fixed me with a pointed look.

I scribbled my signature on the paper, clenching my fist so hard my knuckles turned white.

"Since you guys have had a lovely reunion, Skylar," Dad was speaking again.

"I expect you to help them adjust at school while they complete their alpha training. Introduce them to your friends, and—"

"I don't have friends." I couldn't even hide the bitterness in my voice.

Myron and Ross scoffed quietly but I heard it anyway.

Dad shrugged. "Regardless, they're family. We support family, right?"

I sneered inwardly.

Rich, coming from the man who'd publicly disowned me as his heir yesterday.

I was about to say something that would have probably sent Dad flying into rage when a knock sounded on the door.

It was Luna Sheila. Even after all these years, I still couldn't call her mom.

She had a bright smile on her face, accentuating her beautiful features.

No doubt, Myron and Ross got their good looks from her. I wonder if they got their rascal behaviour from their Father though.

"Breakfast is ready, everyone. Skylar, where did you go last night? I was worried."

My heart melted a little and I smiled a bit. Of course, she had noticed. She was the only one who cared about me.

But when I remembered she could have actually talked Dad into crowning me as his heir instead of her sons, my anger returned.

"I don't want breakfast!" I stated firmly and shoved past her, out of the room.

I heard their collective gasps as I ran down to my room, slamming the door behind me. My hands were shaking again, but this time with rage instead of panic.

Those devil's pawns wanted to play games? Fine. I could play too.

I was not going down without a fight.

I took my bath quickly and threw on my baggy jeans and a black hoodie, not bothering with make-up or fixing my hair.

I had only one mission today. Deal with the twins in the worst way possible.

I still had no clue on how I was going to do that. But maybe a Calculus class would help sharpen my brain.

I grabbed my car keys and headed out to the garage. That's when I saw the cars parked side by side.

Sleek black sports cars that probably cost more than all the school's tuition I've been paying since birth.

A royal stamp was on the windshield, evidence that it was a gift from Dad to Myron and Ross.

My gaze slowly trailed to my car and a pang of jealousy bittered my stomach.

You'd think an Alpha's daughter like me would be using a fancy car, but no, I wasn't.

My car was a beat-up Cadillac that Dad had used six years ago and he had actually disposed of it. But I found it.

Right from junior year, I'd wanted to own a car. But Dad— my very caring father refused to buy me a car

He'd always say. "You're too young to drive, Skylar. Plus, you're a girl. Just let the royal driver drive you!"

But I refused to ride with the royal driver anyway.

I spent all my savings on refurbishing the Cadillac and of course, he tried to stop me from driving the car, but sweet Luna Sheila helped me talk sense into him.

So, yeah, getting Myron and Ross fancy cars is such an impartial thing to do.

Then, the idea struck me.

Yes! This was it. This was payback.

After scanning the area to be sure no one was watching me, I grabbed my pocket knife from my car and made my way to the sports cars.

I know they probably had plans to enter school in Grand style and make all girls swoon over them.

But, oops! That wasn't going to happen now, was it?

With a triumphant smirk, I bent beside the first one, puncturing the tires slowly so as not to draw attention.

I increased my speed. They would be almost done with breakfast now. I couldn't afford to be caught by them.

By the time I was done, all eight tires were flat as pancakes.

Petty? Absolutely. Satisfying? Hell yeah.

I wish I could wait to see the shocked and disappointed looks on their faces when they saw their flat tires.

Laughing hard, I went back to my car, opened the door and sat down.

Then my stomach dropped.

Through the centre mirror, I glimpsed two faces that made me choke on my saliva. Myron and Ross.

How did they—? When did they—? My brain was reeling hard, my heart was thundering in my chest.

"Drive, Skylar," Myron said quietly but I heard the threat in his voice.

My hands were all sweaty on the steering wheel as I shook my head. "No!"

"Wasn't a request!" Ross snapped.

I was still about to protest when I saw both point guns— I swear to all the moon gods that I've ever existed— they were real guns.

And they printed it on the back of my head.

"Drive, or we shoot. Your choice." Their voice brooked no further arguments.