The fire in Alpha Eugene’s study had burned low, leaving the room bathed in amber shadows. The smell of old leather, smoldering cedarwood, and ink filled the air, a familiar scent that should have brought Eugene comfort. Instead, it only deepened the ache in his chest. He stood near the bookshelves, his arms crossed tightly as he stared down into the flickering fire. The weight of the day clung to his shoulders like chains. Max paced behind him, his boots thudding against the dark wood floor with every restless step. “We’ve been down there for hours,” Max said, exasperated. “From mid-afternoon till just before moonrise. He hasn’t uttered a damn word. Not even a lie. He just stares at us like we’re the enemy.” Eugene said nothing. Max turned to face him, arms spread wide in frustration. “I hate to say this, Eugene… truly, I do. But I think Desmond was right.” Eugene’s brow furrowed. He turned, slowly. Max met his gaze, serious. “We need to use force or torture. Something.
Last Updated : 2025-07-18 Read more