Chapter 194
~Darien’s Point Of View~
Darien presses his foot onto the accelerator of the red, armor-plated luxury sedan. The Alpha estate gates are massive wrought iron crests glinting under the twilight, but his focus is miles away, back in the stifling cage of Headmaster Halric Varrow’s office.
He cracks his knuckles that are raw where they split Amias’s skin, and his throbbing jaw from the payback blow he took. But the physical pain is pleasant compared to the screeching siren in his mind: Morgan. She chose Morgan.
That thought sends a tremor through his hands, and he accelerates, pressing the gas pedal into the floor, blurring the roadside trees into streaks of black and emerald.
’Control,’ the voice of his mother, the one that haunts him every time he’s about to act out of character hushes him. ’You are losing control, Darien. You are behaving like an un-sired Omega.’
But Kairos, his wolf, shrieks incoherently in devastation. "They claimed her! We let them! They ripped her from us, and we were fighting with Amias when it should be their asses we were kicking."
He twitches the wheel, the car swaying momentarily on the asphalt. The simple need for immediate, brutal violence against the man who had laid hands on Heidi is almost overwhelming. This is the only way to silence the screaming self-hatred.
And yes, he did that. He handled the traffickers and handed them over to his father’s men, ready to leave for home tonight to receive his reward. However, the next day, he didn’t expect Heidi to get in trouble.
And Darien remembers a conversation. A confusing, infuriating conversation that happened hours ago, shortly after Heidi had first arrived and caused the first major incident of hers.
The memory plays like a broken, terrifying film reel in his head, pulling his mind away from the fresh, agonizing humiliation of losing Heidi to his own brothers. He’d gone to the Headmaster with simple rage and an arrogant demand; he’d left with a chilling, existential question.
FLASHBACK~
Darien walks through the oak door of the Headmaster’s office, the heavy wood groaning in protest. The office is exactly as he remembers it from the memory of his last visit: annoyingly spotless, the air heavy with the scent of aged mahogany and Halric Varrow’s expensive, antiseptic cologne. The man himself sits behind the massive desk, silver hair meticulously brushed back, dressed in a perfectly tailored charcoal suit that screams "I am powerful, but I prefer not to sweat."
Halric Varrow looks up, setting down a gold-tipped pen with theatrical care. A smile, no, a terrible, shark-like thing stretches across his face.
"Lord Darien," he drawls in a grating purr that always makes Darien’s wolf hiss. Varrow offers a graceful sweep of his hand toward an armchair opposite the desk.
"To what do I owe the very great honour of this unannounced visit? Please, do take a seat. I was just reviewing the quarter’s budgetary allocation for—"
Darien cuts him off, his voice flat and well doused with the inherited arrogance of his rank. "I’m not here to sit, Headmaster."
The headmaster’s smile disappears immediately, but Darien knows it’s not because he feels disappointed that he’s been cut off but because of the attempt to hide his annoyance. It is the kind of familiar, hate-cordial exchange they have shared since Darien was seven and Varrow realized that the Alpha’s sons, despite their titles, are instruments to be manipulated, not people to be respected.
Halric gives a deep, patient sigh calculated to communicate his profound boredom with the whims of Alpha offspring. He leans back in his chair, folding his hands precisely over his waistcoat.
"Well, Mr. Bellamy. If we are to dispense with the niceties, then tell me, please: What is the problem now?" He inflects the now with heavy irony, suggesting that Darien is a perpetual source of petty administrative headaches.
Darien ignores the jibe. He takes a step closer to the desk, his hands resting lightly on the polished wood. "I’m here about a case. A matter that requires immediate administrative pardon and intervention."
Varrow’s brow rises, perfectly arched. "A case? Something happened at the school? Surely, Mr. Bellamy, you know that standard disciplinary matters. A skipped class, a mild act of vandalism, is handled by the Deans." He pauses, his eyes twinkling with false concern. "Unless... are you referring to the incident regarding the traffickers? I assure you, under the existing code, they’ll wish they hadn’t been born. Though I must confess, you did a rather good job apprehending them."
"Not the traffickers," Darien snaps, resisting the urge to slam his fist down. "I’m here about the Moon Blessed."
Varrow blinks, his face suddenly blank. The silver eyes search Darien’s, looking for a tell. "The Moon Blessed? We have sixty-six Moon Blessed students left, Mr. Bellamy. Are you referring to one of them, perhaps? The one who was caught trying to steal from a senior while her peers fight for their lives in the labyrinth?"
Darien lets his lip curl in disgust. This man is a professional obfuscator. "Don’t play oblivion with me, Halric. You know exactly who I mean. The girl involved in the incident with the Nay Boy sisters. The one who started the fight. The one who..."
Varrow holds up a hand, silencing him with a gesture of refined exasperation. "Ah. Forgive me. I am truly out of the loop. I have so many students to manage, you see." He pauses dramatically, tapping his finger against his chin. Then, a slow look of realization creeps onto his face. "Wait. Are you, by chance, talking about the Moon Blessed assigned to the Castells’... the one with the confidential matter?"
Darien stiffens. The Castells. The Beta’s family Heidi was assigned to. However, what’s so confidential about it? Darien doesn’t quite get it.
"Yes. The girl. Why are you acting like you didn’t know it was her I was talking about all along?" Darien asks, brows arched as he decides to wisely find out what the hell’s going on.