Defy The Alpha(s)

Chapter 516: Challenge The Alpha Asher barely inclined his head at their greeting, his eyes already past them. He walked forward, and naturally they followed, their footsteps quick to fall into line behind him.

They were being respectful around him but Asher wasn't deceived by the act. He knew the difference between loyalty and courtesy.

"It's nice to finally have you home, Asher," Luna Patricia said, her tone sweet as honey. "I've had your room prepared in advance." Asher paused mid-step, his gaze cutting briefly to her before turning forward again. "I'll be staying in my father's quarters." There was an immediate shift in the air, and Asher even heard someone exhale sharply. Luna Patricia's smile faltered for a fraction, and Beta Dominic seemed taken aback, but they were quick to mask it.

Staying in Henry's room wasn't a request but a declaration that he was here to take his father's place. Yes, Asher was not beating around the bush. He had just sent out a warning. His enemies better start preparing because his knife was sharpened already.

"Of course," Patricia said quickly, covering her slip. "If that's where you'd rather stay. I'll have the staff clean—" "You don't need to worry about that. I'll do it myself," Asher cut in.

"But-" Patricia tried again.

Asher suddenly stopped. His movement was so abrupt that everyone trailing him cto a halt. He turned, his eyes sweeping over the faces of the sycophants who had followed.

"I appreciate your support," he said, his voice carrying across the passageway. "But I wish to mourn my father in silence." Mourning Henry? Not in this lifetime. Mourn his ass. But Asher needed something tangible to strip them off his back without question and this worked well enough.

He turned back to Patricia, his gaze firm. "Make sure the Alphas are comfortable. I will address them before the end of this evening." And with that, he walked off, Jeremiah falling into step beside him, while the rest of the entourage stood watching him go. None dared to follow.

Asher pushed into his father's office, the heavy door groaning on its hinges. The room had been shut for days, hence the air that met him was thick, and stale. Jeremiah followed close behind, silent as always and sensitive to Asher's need.

The office was broad, every inch of it a reflection of Henry's rule. Dark oak shelves lined the walls, stacked with carefully arranged ledgers, and records. At the center stood the massive desk with papers neatly aligned as if their owner would walk back in any moment. An adjoining door stood slightly ajar, leading into the room Henry had used as his private quarters.

But the room stank of Henry. His scent was everywhere, soaked into the wood, the curtains, the floorboards and it suffocated him. Asher went to the windows and pushed them open, letting the cold air rush in.

He walked the room slowly before stopping in front of a massive portrait dominating the wall. Henry's eyes stared back at him from the canvas, hard and commanding. The painter had captured every detail: the squared jaw, the proud tilt of his chin, the aura of an Alpha so vividly etched in bold lines that it seemed to breathe power.

Asher's lips pressed into a line. "It's still hard to believe he's gone," he muttered.

Jeremiah said nothing. He stood behind his Alpha, letting the silence speak.

For a moment, Asher allowed himself to feel the loss. They had been enemies more than father and son, but blood was blood, and the ache still found its way into him. For that single breath, he was just a son who had lost his father.

Then it was gone.

Asher's gaze hardened. "Get rid of the picture," he ordered.

Jeremiah moved without hesitation, tugging the frdown from the wall while Asher watched with contempt. He couldn't bear those eyes staring back, the face carved with lines of cruelty and disappointment, the sexpression that had haunted his childhood.

His father's chain over him was obvious. He would be the one carving his path from now on.

"Do a sweep of the room," Asher ordered next. "Check for listening devices." It was a stretch, perhaps paranoia to think of that, but Asher had learned never to be careless. Carelessness was weakness, and weakness got you killed.

He was still speaking when the door snapped open.

Nancy and Ezra King walked in.

"Christ, Lord," Nancy breathed the moment her gaze fell on Asher. She crossed the room without hesitation and wrapped her arms around him.

For a moment, Asher stood still. He wasn't used to being touched like that, certainly not with that kind of warmth. But this was violet's mother. Something inside him shifted, and he let go of the walls he always carried. His arms closed around her tight, almost crushing, as if she was a lifeline and he was afraid to let go. Nancy drew back just enough to cup his face, her hands trembling against his cheek. "Thank the goddess you're alright," she whispered.

Asher gave a small nod, saying nothing.

Her eyes searched his, cautiously. "Violet?"

"Presumedly safe with the others,' Asher answered. There was no m pretense, nor sweetened lie. He served her the truth just the way it was. Nancy swallowed, her chest rising with a shaky breath.

"You can rest easy," Asher added. "Griffin and Roman won't let harm cto her." Nancy nodded slowly, accepting his words in good faith because Asher never wasted breath on comfort unless it was true.

Only then did Ezra shift, drawing Asher's attention. Their gazes locked, the tension between them immediate. "My condolences," he said.

"There's no room for emotions here," Asher cut him off, his voice gruff.

"The burial will go on without flaw, but my concern is the stability of this pack when it's done." His eyes narrowed. "How many Alphas do you think will challenge my claim to my father's seat?" Ezra's expression darkened. "I'd say all of them."