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“You rang?” I fall into the empty chair at their table.
Scorpio gives me the same get-in-line look he always gives Atlas, but I’m not his son and Max Wyvern never hit me—just dropped me in the woods for survival training any time I opened my mouth to complain.
Ah, fathers.
At least I know what not to do.
“When are you claiming her?” Scorpio asks, blunt as fuck.
A growl rattles my gut. “You don’t get updates on our mate.”
“Son.” My dad scratches his bushy beard. He’s the softest of their unholy quad, but that’s like saying he’s the softest brick of concrete. “We have your best int—”
“Here’s the fucking thing,” I bark. “You don’t get to tell us how to run our pack.” I’m done shoveling their shit and caring about consequences. We let problems slide with them for way too long and it almost cost us Lilah. “Disinherit us if you don’t like it.”
“Enough.” Uncle Hikaru adjusts a cufflink. “That’s not why we called.”
“I’m listening.” Also checking my watch. I want to take Lilah to her date, and I want to time it so the Sorensens fucking see me dropping her off.
“The board has agreed to shut down the OCC until we can appoint a new director and staff. We’d also like to liquidate the other Wyvern businesses that have been neglected. If your pack were prepared to step up, we’d hand power directly to you. But with things as they are…”
“You can bury the OCC.” I stand, glad I don’t have to think or even hesitate over this decision. “We’re not taking any more responsibility.”
All we’re doing is focusing on Lilah, Orion, and nailing Redfangs.
Scorpio unfolds from the sofa. He’s rocking new lines at the corners of his dark eyes—it’s a toss-up if they’re from stress or scowling. “This is how you’re going to run the pack?”
“Yep.” I don’t flinch, don’t shrink, don’t give a fucking inch on his tyrant games. I don’t give a shit how sour he is over Atlas losing his position.
Lilah and the guys are my family.
Not our fathers’ legacy.
“Anything else?” I ask, just to wind them up.
Kieran, silent as a ghost this whole time, finally speaks. “You’ll be there tonight?”
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I grin.
And I just had a fantastic idea.
I text the guys on my way to the garage, and they are on fucking board for my latest scheme.
Grabbing my Jeep, I book home to Lilah.
The elevator ride takes a thousand years, and I’m bouncing, I'm so juiced to see her.
When I rip open the door, Lilah hops off a kitchen stool, looking cute as shit in Orion’s too-long sweatshirt.
I’m about to test my luck on a hug when I scent blood.
I stiffen.
Heart stutters. What the—
Orion struts to throw an arm around her shoulders. Then he stretches his neck like a smug fucking giraffe, flashing me his thick-ass bandage and the biggest fuck you smile.
And, yeah.
