All Chapters of The Alpha’s Second Life: Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

"How much is left?"Richard slammed his fist against the mahogany desk. The wood groaned. A hairline fracture spidered across the polish. I didn't look up from my tablet. The screen was a sea of red numbers, scrolling past like blood in a gutter."Zero. In the primary accounts, at least." I swiped a finger, refreshing the ledger. "Thorne didn't just freeze our assets. He liquidated the Harrington trust. Your credit cards are plastic scrap. The pack’s medical supply lines? Cut. The shipment of wolf-bane suppressants for the Omegas was diverted to the Council’s private vault three hours ago.""Those bastards." Richard’s jaw worked, a hard muscle jumping in his cheek. He paced the length of the study, his boots heavy on the floorboards. "They’re going to starve us. They think if the pack gets hungry enough, they’ll turn on me. They’ll hand Henry over just to get a meal.""They're right." I set the tablet down. My neck throbbed where the silver mark had settled into a dull, pulsing ache.

"He’s flatlining, Richard! Get your hands off him!"I shoved Richard’s shoulder. Hard. He didn't budge. He stayed loomed over the operating table, his claws digging into the stainless steel. The metal groaned. The Council soldier beneath him was a mess of shredded tactical gear and open chest wounds. His breathing was a wet, bubbly rattle."He’s a captain in the Thorne Vanguard, Joshua." Richard’s voice was a low vibration that rattled the glass jars of cotton swabs. "He was at the northern gate. He knows where they took the rest of the supplies. I don't care if he dies. I care what he says before he does.""I’m a doctor. This is a medical bay. Not an interrogation room." I grabbed a pair of trauma shears and started hacking away at the soldier’s blood-soaked tunic. "He has a tension pneumothorax. If I don't decompress his chest in sixty seconds, he’s a corpse. You want to talk to a corpse?""I want the location of the secondary warehouse." Richard stepped closer. The scent of rain an

"Hold your breath and stop the leak."Richard knelt in the damp mulch of the Blackwood clearing. He didn't look like a CEO. His expensive suit jacket lay tossed over a rotting log. His white sleeves were rolled up, exposing thick, scarred forearms. Henry stood opposite him. The boy’s small chest heaved. He looked tiny against the towering ancient pines."I’m trying." Henry’s voice cracked. A bead of sweat rolled down his nose. "It’s like trying not to pee. It just... it wants out.""It’s not a bodily function, Henry. It’s an extension of your intent." Richard reached out. He didn't touch the boy. He hovered his hand near Henry’s neck. "Right now, you smell like a Harrington. You smell like ozone and burnt cedar. To a Council scout, you’re a flare in the dark. Close the valve.""How?""Visualize the scent as a cloud. Now pull it back in. Every molecule. Trap it under your skin."Henry squeezed his eyes shut. His face went red. His tiny fists shook at his sides. The air around them bega

"Why did you come back, Bianca?"I pulled a stool across the stone floor of the Harrington dungeon. The screech echoed, sharp and ugly. Bianca sat in a heavy iron chair, her wrists bolted to the arms. Her hair was a matted bird’s nest. A purple bruise bloomed across her cheek where Richard’s Enforcer had been less than gentle."I missed the hospitality." She spat. A glob of bloody saliva landed on my boot. "You’re still just a human playing dress-up, Joshua. You don't belong in this house. You're a stain on the Harrington name.""Funny. The stains usually come out with enough bleach." I reached into my med-kit. I pulled out a syringe filled with a pale, amber liquid. "This is a concentrated dose of Scopolamine laced with synthesized Alpha-pheromones. Specifically, the scent of the Blackwood Cliffs. Do you remember that night, Bianca? The rain? The way the mud felt under your fingernails when you shoved me over the edge?""Don't." Her eyes widened. She tried to pull back, but the bolts

"Sign the treaty or the boy becomes a ward of the High Council."Chairman Thorne slammed the tablet onto the conference table. The screen flickered with a live feed of Henry’s nursery. Six Enforcers stood by the crib, their hands resting on the grips of silver-pulse rifles. Richard’s jaw worked, a muscle jumping in his cheek. He didn't look at the screen. He looked at Thorne."You’re losing, Chairman. The Allen pack moved their logistics to my border an hour ago. The Bishop pack is in my pocket. You have no information war left. Only hostage-taking.""We have the law." Thorne leaned back, his eyes like two pieces of flint. "The Harrington line has been found genetically unstable. Under Article 14, the High Council has the right to secure the next generation for the safety of the species. Unless, of course, you wish to challenge the ruling.""Challenge it how?" Richard’s voice was a low, jagged vibration."Trial by Combat. The old way." Thorne smiled. It was a thin, bloodless thing. "Y