Bonds

-Alex's POV-

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Damon Thorne was a force of nature. He wasn't just powerful, he used that power to make people scared. He wanted me to be the same but I never wanted that. Not for a second. After my mom died, it was like living in a constant nightmare. I was young, but knew I had to get away from him, to break free from his shadow. It wasn't easy. Every part of me screamed "woll" and that primal urge, that darkness, reminded me of everything I hated about him.

So, I ran, Iran as far as I could, burying myself in work, in building a company, in the normalcy of the human world. It was a constant battle, though. Every full moon, every time I felt the wolf stirring inside, It was a reminder of the monster he'd tried to turn me into, Five years. It took five years to reach my first real milestone, a multi-million dollar deal. It should have felt amazing, but all I could think about was the news that hit right after. Damon Thorne was sick. Very sick.

There wasn't an ounce of pity in me. He was Damon Thorne. He didn't deserve sympathy. Not after what he did to my mom. Not after everything else. He had all the money in the world, but even that couldn't buy him a cure. The only thing keeping him alive was this special facility, a place designed to slow down whatever was eating him from the inside.

I'd only seen him five times since he ended up there. Each visit was the same. A tense walk through sterile hallways, the constant beeping of machines in the background, and the sight of him, a pale shell of the man he used to be. The last time was the worst. He was weak, barely clinging to life, but the fire in his eyes still burned. He used that visit to try and manipulate me again. He wanted me to finish what he started, to strike at Daniel Stone before Stone. I didn't listen. I was still running. Running from the wolf inside, from the responsibilities he'd tried to force on me..

But no more.

A voice broke the silence, a nurse I vaguely recognized. "Mr. Thorne. He's ready for you."

I took a deep breath, the sterile smell of the facility filling my lungs. It wasn't a pleasant place, but for the first time, I wasn't there out of obligation. I was there for answers. I nodded curtly at the nurse and followed her down the hallway, every step bringing me closer to the man who made me who I am, the good, the bad, and the monster he always wanted me to be.

The double doors at the end of the hall slid open with a hiss, revealing a sterile room bathed in a soft, artificial light. My father lay in a bed, a tangle of tubes and wires snaking around him. Monitors beeped rhythmically, the only sound in the otherwise silent room. His eyes were closed, his face pale and gaunt. He looked frail, broken, a far cry from the imposing figure that had haunted my childhood.

For a moment, I just stood there, watching him. Part of me wanted to turn and walk away, to leave him to rot in his self-made prison. But another part, a primal instinct I couldn't ignore, urged me closer. I took a step forward, the sterile floor tiles squeaking under my shoes.

He stirred at the sound, his eyelids fluttering open. It took him a moment to focus, his gaze hazy and unseeing for a beat before landing on me.

"Alex," he rasped, his voice weak and barely audible. "You came A weird mix of emotions bubbled up inside me as I stared at him. Here he was, a broken shell of the powerful, terrifying man who used to control every aspect of my life. He looked so pathetic, so weak, that a sliver of pity threatened to pierce through the years of anger and resentment I'd built up. How the mighty had fallen, I thought grimly.

The silence stretched, thick and heavy. We just stared at each other, two strangers bound by blood and a twisted history. Finally, I broke the tension.

10:28 Sat, zz Jun Chapter 83

"Last time I saw you," I started, my voice low and controlled, "you were all about striking first. Protect your legacy and the legacy of the pack."

The words hung in the air for a moment, then something shifted in him. It was like watching a deflated balloon slowly regain some air. A flicker of life returned to his eyes.

"I have been informed about the bomb," he rasped out, his voice weak but surprisingly steady. I almost snorted. Of course he had been. Even here, hooked up to machines and barely clinging to life, he still had his fingers wrapped around pack affairs. He refused to let go, even from the brink of death.

I gave a curt nod, acknowledging the obvious. "Daniel used the power of the merger to hit us hard. I tried to take him down the corporate way, but now..." I trailed off, letting the unspoken words hang heavy in the air.

A predatory glint entered his cloudy eyes, a flicker of the old Damon Thorne momentarily breaking through the haze of illness. "Now you need my help," he finished the sentence for me, a triumphant smirk tugging at the corner of his cracked lips. "You need to learn how to be a force to be reckoned with in the werewolf world. You've finally come to your senses and decided to take me up on my offer."

I didn't answer him right away. The part of me that still hated him, the part that yearned for independence from his shadow, balked at the idea of needing his help. But another, more pragmatic part, knew he was right. He might be a monster, a twisted caricature of a father, but he was also the alpha of the Nightshade pack for decades. He had built alliances, waged wars, and ruled with an iron fist. He knew the dark underbelly of the werewolf world better than anyone.

So, I swallowed my pride and met his gaze head-on. "Maybe," I conceded, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "Maybe you can teach this 'corporate wolf a thing or two about the real world."

A genuine smile, devoid of malice for the first time in my memory, spread across his face. It was a weak smile, the smile of a dying man, but it held a hint of victory nonetheless. "Excellent," he rasped, his voice gaining a touch of strength. "Then let the lessons begin."

"I didn't come here for one-on-one werewolf lessons," I snapped. "I already had a bomb planted in Stone's car. The plan wasn't to kill him quickly - he'll suffer a slow and agonizing death at my hands, mark my words. What I need from you is how to cripple his pack, to weaken it from the inside out."

A harsh laugh escaped my father's lips. It was unsteady, weak, but it held a disturbing edge of amusement.

"Maybe I already taught you more than you realize, Alex. You weaken a pack by striking at its strongest link. Once the alpha is broken, the rest will crumble. The fear, the uncertainty, it will spread like a disease, fracturing their leadership and plunging them into chaos. You've already begun the process."

I glared at him, my anger simmering. "So what am I doing here then? If the bomb works, the fear will do the rest. What good is your outdated. pack warfare knowledge going to be?"

I started to stand up but before I could take a step, a violent coughing fit seized him. He doubled over, his frail body wracked with spasms, his face contorted in pain. His weak hand reached out, a tremor running through it, searching for something.

Despite my anger, a sliver of something akin to pity stirred within me. Moving on autopilot, I grabbed the glass of water resting on the bedside table and held it to his lips. He took it with trembling hands, each sip a struggle against the relentless coughing.

I watched him, a strange mix of emotions swirling within me. When the coughing finally subsided, he slumped back against the pillows, his breaths shallow and labored. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a strange vulnerability I'd never seen before.

mes from "Sit down, Alex. There's more to this than just fear. Fear can be a powerful weapon, but it's a fleeting one. True victory comes understanding your enemy, from exploiting their weaknesses, and from building alliances with those who share your goals."

10.20

BUT

"Last time I saw you," i started, my voice low and controlled, "you were all about striking first. Protect your legacy and the legacy of the pack"

The words hung in the air for a moment, then something shifted in him. It was like watching a deflated balloon slowly regain some air. A flicker of life returned to his eyes.

"I have been informed about the bomb," he rasped out, his voice weak but surprisingly steady. I almost snorted. Of course he had been. Even here, hooked up to machines and barely clinging to life, he still had his fingers wrapped around pack affairs. He refused to let go, even from the brink of death.

I gave a curt nod, acknowledging the obvious. "Daniel used the power of the merger to hit us hard. I tried to take him down the corporate way, but now..." I trailed off, letting the unspoken words hang heavy in the air.

A predatory glint entered his cloudy eyes, a flicker of the old Damon Thorne momentarily breaking through the haze of illness. "Now you need my help," he finished the sentence for me, a triumphant smirk tugging at the corner of his cracked lips. "You need to learn how to be a force to be reckoned with in the werewolf world. You've finally come to your senses and decided to take me up on my offer."

I didn't answer him right away. The part of me that still hated him, the part that yearned for independence from his shadow, balked at the idea of needing his help. But another, more pragmatic part, knew he was right. He might be a monster, a twisted caricature of a father, but he was also the alpha of the Nightshade pack for decades. He had built alliances, waged wars, and ruled with an iron fist. He knew the dark underbelly of the werewolf world better than anyone.

So, I swallowed my pride and met his gaze head-on. "Maybe," I conceded, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "Maybe you can teach this 'corporate wolf" a thing or two about the real world."

A genuine smile, devoid of malice for the first time in my memory, spread across his face. It was a weak smile, the smile of a dying man, but it held a hint of victory nonetheless. "Excellent," he rasped, his voice gaining a touch of strength. "Then let the lessons begin."

"I didn't come here for one-on-one werewolf lessons," I snapped. "I already had a bomb planted in m Stone's car. The plan wasn't to kill him quickly-he'll suffer a slow and agonizing death at my hands, mark my words. What I need from you is how to cripple his pack, to weaken it from the inside out."

A harsh laugh escaped my father's lips. It was unsteady, weak, but it held a disturbing edge of amusement.

"Maybe I already taught you more than you realize, Alex. You weaken a pack by striking at its strongest link. Once the alpha is broken, the rest will crumble. The fear, the uncertainty, it will spread like a disease, fracturing their leadership and plunging them into chaos. You've already begun the process."

I glared at him, my anger simmering. "So what am I doing here then? If the bomb works, the fear will do the rest. What good is your outdated pack warfare knowledge going to be?"

I started to stand up but before I could take a step, a violent coughing fit seized him. He doubled over, his frail body wracked with spasms, face contorted in pain.

His weak hand reached out, a tremor running through it, searching for something Despite my anger, a sliver of something akin to pity stirred within me. Moving on autopilot, I grabbed the glass of water resting on the bedside table and held it to his lips. He took it with trembling hands, each sip a struggle against the relentless coughing. I watched him, a strange mix of emotions swirling within me. When the coughing finally subsided, he slumped back against the pillows, his breaths shallow and labored. He looked at me, his eyes filled with a strange vulnerability I'd never seen before.

"Sit down, Alex. There's more to this than just fear. Fear can be a powerful weapon, but it's a fleeting one. True victory comes from understanding your enemy, from exploiting their weaknesses, and from building alliances with those who share your goals."

his TU:28 Sat, 22 Juni Chapter 83

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There was a pause, a beat of silence filled only by the beeping of the machines monitoring his

"Stone may be an ao ailing body.

an arrogant fool," he continued, his voice gaining a sliver of strength, "but he's not an idiot. He'll be expecting the fear, the chaos. after the bomb. He'll be preparing for a frontal attack. That's what makes him predictable."

"So tell me everything there is to know."

My father nodded, sitting up straighter and a dark gleam crossed his eyes, "But first, there is something you need to know about the rivalry. How it started and what I took from him."