Chapter 2
Alpha Derick's POV (20 Years Later)
"So sorry for your loss, Alpha Derick."
Those were the words floating in the air as members of the pack, guests, and well-wishers who had come for my uncle's funeral murmured their sympathies, their eyes filled with sorrow.
Seated on my seat, I maintained a Stoic expression despite the pain crashing over me because Father Magnus had taught me that an Alpha does not show weakness. An Alpha does not grieve where others can see.
My Beta and best friend, Timothy, leaned down and whispered, "You should go in… I will handle the guests."
For a moment, I wanted to stay, to keep nodding my head at the sympathetic words of the guests, but on second thought, I knew Timothy was right. I did need rest—if not for anything, then for tomorrow night, which was a big day for me.
I gave him a curt nod. "Take care of it."
Rising from my seat, I felt the weight of their gazes on me, but I ignored them. Without another word, I turned and strode from the hall where Father Magnus's funeral was being held.
As I made my way to my chambers, my personal guards, Leo and Edmond, instinctively moved to follow. But with a wave, I dismissed them, and they stayed back. I wanted to be alone. I wanted to think.
The moment I stepped into my chambers, I shut the door behind me and crossed the room to the bar. I poured myself a glass of whiskey, took a long sip and thought of my late uncle, My Adopted Father.
He had not been my father by blood, but in every way that mattered, he had been my father. He had raised me, shaped me, molded me into the Alpha I was today. I was just a broken boy when he saved me, when he took me in, when he made me his own. Magnus had never been able to bear children, a cruel twist of fate for a man who would have made a remarkable father. But he never let that pain show. Instead, he poured all his love and wisdom into me.
I took a slow sip of the whiskey, feeling the burn in my throat, yet it was nothing compared to the ache in my chest.
Memories came rushing back—of the first time he called me his son, the way he would ruffle my hair after training, the pride in his eyes whenever I accomplished something. I had spent years trying to live up to the man he was. And now, he was gone.
Blood cancer.
The words felt like poison in my mind. For years, I had fought it, throwing every resource, every healer, every treatment I could find at the illness. I had begged the Moon Goddess, challenged fate, sworn to trade my own life for his. But nothing worked. In the end, I had to watch as the strongest man I had ever known withered away before my eyes.
The last time we spoke, he had gripped my hand, his once-powerful fingers frail and trembling. "You will do great things, Derick. I have no regrets."
But I had regrets.
I clenched my jaw, tightening my grip on the glass. I regretted not finding a cure. I regretted not being able to save him. I regretted that the last time I saw him alive, I had to look away because I couldn't stand to see him so weak.
A shaky breath left my lips, and for the first time in years, I allowed myself a moment of vulnerability. Not in front of my pack, not in front of my Beta, but here, alone, in the silence of my chambers.
Tomorrow night was a big night. I was going to declare revenge on the people who destroyed my life twenty years ago.
Tomorrow night, it would rain blood like fire in the Full Moon Pack. Tomorrow, Alpha Steven and his entire family would taste my wrath. And they wouldn't live to tell the story.
Father Magnus had spent years preparing me for this moment. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be here to see it.
I exhaled heavily, rubbing my temples. For two decades, I had lived for this night. Every breath, every drop of sweat spilled on the training grounds, every sleepless night had been for this one purpose—vengeance.
Him and his entire household were going to pay. I would give them the most painful death on earth and make sure I painted the pack with their blood.
My wolf, Fury, growled inside me as he sensed my anger. He had been training, also waiting for this day, just like me.
Sighing heavily, I thought of my Biological father—how he was slaughtered like an animal—and my mother… Tears gathered in my eyes. The memories of how she was brutally taken by that monster were still fresh in my head. For months, I had nightmares. For months, it was one healer or another trying to help me get back my sanity.
It took months—months before I could regain my sanity, months before I could fully accept the fact that my parents were gone. But the nightmares lingered. Constantly, I still had nightmares of that dreadful day.
I placed my empty glass down on the bar with a soft clink, my hands steady despite the storm inside me. Fury, my wolf, growled lowly, restless and eager for the battle.
"We end them all," he snarled in my mind, his voice dark with bloodlust.
"Yes," I responded, my voice cold, my heart full of anger.
Tomorrow, I would make sure Alpha Steven felt the same fear my father had felt as he lay dying. The same helplessness my mother felt as she was molested by him. The same agony I had endured for two decades.
His entire household would beg for mercy. And I would give them none.
A creak at the door pulled me from my thoughts. My brows furrowed and a big frown spread across my face. Who dares enter my room without knocking and invade my moment of vulnerability?
When the person stepped in, I realized it was Anita, my betrothed, daughter of Father Magnus's best friend and Beta. The woman everyone expected me to marry.
I sighed. "Anita, I wish to be left alone," I said.
Anita shook her head stubbornly, stepping further into the room, her seductive eyes scanning my face. "You don't always have to be alone, Derick," she said softly, her voice low and seductive. "Let me take your pain away."
She reached for the ties of her dress and slowly began undoing them. The silky fabric slid off her shoulders, pooling around her waist, revealing the delicate curves of her body.
I watched her, my expression blank. I had known Anita for years, since childhood. She was strong-willed—a perfect Luna in the making in the eyes of the pack. She had always been there, always offering herself to me, always trying to be what I needed.
But what I needed… was something I couldn't even name.
She took a step closer, her hands reaching for my shirt. "You are mourning, Derick," she murmured, her fingers brushing against my skin. "Let me help."
I let her touch me. I let her unbutton my shirt, drag her fingers over my chest. But deep inside, I felt nothing.
Not desire. Not passion.
Just emptiness.
Every time we fucked, she moaned, she climaxed, she whispered my name like it meant something. But for me, it was nothing. Just an act. A distraction. A way to pass away time. It wasn't just her; it was the same with every other woman I fucked.
She pressed a kiss to my jaw, then my neck, her breath warm against my skin. But I barely reacted. I didn't push her away, but I didn't pull her closer either.
She noticed.
She always did.
"You don't even want me, do you?" Her voice held a hint of frustration, though she tried to mask it with seduction. "You never do."
I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair as I gently pushed her back. "Anita… I'm not in the mood."
She crossed her arms, her dress still loosely hanging around her. "Really? When will you ever be in the mood? Because I've been here, waiting, trying. And you—" She scoffed, shaking her head. "You treat me like I'm just another obligation."
I didn't answer immediately. Because she wasn't wrong.
I stared at her, my mind heavy with the weight of everything.
"Tomorrow night," I finally said, "That is all I care about."
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "And after that? Will you desire me like a man should? Will you want me?"
I looked away. Because I didn't know what to say.
Anita sighed, picking up her dress and pulling it back over her shoulders. She looked at me one last time, hoping I would call her back, stop her from leaving. But I didn't.
"Fine," she said, turning for the door. "We will have this discussion when you are back." With that, she left.
I let out a slow breath, closing my eyes. My mind filled with thoughts of what would come tomorrow night.