Addicted

20

Three weeks later...

A livid Henson stormed into Thorne's office, the scent of his fury clinging to him like a shroud. Thorne felt his rage roaring even before Henson kicked the door open.

"There is no way I will allow them to be mates, do you hear me!" Henson bellowed, spittle flying from his lips.

"Need I remind you that I am your alpha, Henson?" Thorne retorted, his voice steady despite the tremor in his hand. Reminding himself that he was an alpha kept him from ripping Henson's jaw in two.

Henson barked out a laugh. "Alpha?" he sneered. "I left that night with the assurance that you would handle the situation! Instead, you sent me packing so that brute could barge into my house and attack my children! When I get my hands on him, that..."

Thorne's eyes narrowed into a dangerous slit. "Be careful with your next words, Henson!" he growled, a low rumble emanating from his chest. "Your daughter brought that upon herself."

"Are you calling my daughter a liar?" Henson shouted, his face contorting with rage. "You should be begging me not to have her reject your pathetic son!"

"Be my guest," Thorne scoffed, leaning back in his chair with a surprising amount of calm. "He wouldn't miss anything."

Henson advanced on him, his fists clenched. "You keep trying to save that screw up, but that's all about to end!"

Thorne shot up from his chair, his entire body radiating power. With a snarl, he grabbed Henson by the throat. Henson was becoming an unbearable thorn in his side. Lately, all he seemed to do was challenge the alpha's authority. There was no way he could win this, no matter how much he strained against Thorne's grip. Dealing with Tristan was taxing, but it was not his most pressing concern. It was getting harder and harder to make it seem like Tristan's interests aligned with the pack's.

"You want exile, or do you choose death?" Thorne spat through gritted teeth.

Henson croaked out a laugh. "I have to pay for my actions, but your son doesn't?"

Enraged, Thorne squeezed tighter, momentarily forgetting his plan to simply discipline Henson. With a sickening snap, he released him, sending Henson crashing to the floor unconscious. It was not enough force to kill him, but it would send a clear message. He couldn't allow disrespect like this to fester.

He stormed over Henson, not bothering to check on him, and marched towards the forest. After pacing for an extra ten minutes, trying to clear his head, he finally entered the druid cave. He slammed to a halt – the cave was completely different. The blackened walls were gone, vanished. It looked as though it had all been replaced with white marble. There was a light, harmonic hum that vibrated in the air, and the horrendous stench was gone, replaced by a strange, clean scent.

"Kar!" he bellowed, his voice echoing strangely in the new cavern.

A voice, soft and youthful, responded, "Mother has long passed."

He spun around, rage contorting his face. "Who the hell are you?"

"I am Tristan's protector,"

"She never mentioned you, I will snap your neck you demon!"

He lunged forward, a snarl twisting his features, only to trip and fall through the air. She was just a projection, a shimmer in the white space. He growled in frustration. She looked like Kar but was a great deal younger, almost childlike.

"All your decisions keep leading toward demise," she said, her voice still gentle. "Mother never let me step a foot in here therefore I am free of you and you foolish antics. You can't stop what is to come."