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Anton Aldriss. I could finally bear my father’s name.
All my life, I had wanted nothing more than to be fully acknowledged and accepted. There was no greater honor than to bear the name of my sire.
“Full status and your name?” I whispered, disbelieving.
“Yes, my son,” my father repeated.
I ran a nervous hand through my hair.
After all these years, why now?
“Although,” Baras added cautiously, “clan leadership would still fall to Dheran who has been groomed since birth for the role.”
I nodded absently. “Of course.”
The last thing I wanted was to lead the damn clan. Anyway, I would get challenged the minute I rose to power. Berserker or not, I couldn’t defeat purebloods in single combat.
I refilled my glass and downed it in one go, the burn going down helping me to gather my thoughts. My father’s strange detachment confused me. After all the challenges, the clan accepting me, at last, should be a victory for him. Did he not want me bearing his name?
“You do not want me to be called Aldriss, do you?” I asked, trying to hide the hurt in my voice.
My father’s eyes narrowed, a strange emotion flickering through them. “First, if I didn’t want you bearing my name, you wouldn’t have lived long enough to be able to.”
Good point.
“Second, I am the leader of this clan. The council is there to advise me, not command me. You wouldn’t get this offer if I didn’t agree.”
I took back my seat, my hands clasped on my lap.
“For as long as I can remember, I’ve never wanted anything more than to be a full member of this clan, to be accepted as your son, and have the great honor of bearing your name.”
My father’s face remained unreadable while Baras’ took on the bored expression of someone about to sit through a speech they didn’t particularly care to listen to.
“There are no words to express the joy this offer brings me. However, with the utmost respect, I must decline.”
“What?” Baras hissed, a look of outrage on his face. “You dare?”
“Silence,” my father said to Baras, though he continued staring at me. A strange glimmer lit his dark eyes. “So, Anton, you refuse full clanship, and you refuse my name?”
I closed my eyes and exhaled a shuddering breath before looking back at my father.
“I want to bear your name, Clan Leader. I honor you above all others. But I am and will always remain a half-breed.”
My father nodded, whether in acknowledgment of my honoring him or to my being a half-breed, only he knew.
“I have a mate now, and she’s bearing me a son. The Fates willing, she will bear me many more offspring. I willnotrenounce them, for anything, or anyone.”
My father’s eyes narrowed. “The Council already agreed that allowances would be made for your son.”
I snorted. “What allowances? That you clan him without full privileges unless he also achieves battle rage? That the clan won’t harm him but will turn a blind eye whenever every other clan hunts him for sport?”
Baras had the decency to look embarrassed, for he had been among those who hadn’t intervened on my behalf.
“What of my daughters? Are they to become sex slaves for the enjoyment of the clansmen? And my mate? I will not have Braxians come into my home and expect Grace to crawl before them like some common whore.”
“It is our way,” Baras growled.
“It isyourway,” I bit back. “Iam not Braxian. And I willnothave my family subjected to your barbaric Braxian laws.”
