There was nothing but tension in the car.
Elijah hadn’t said a single word since they left the agency, and the boys had not bothered trying to break the silence either. Every one of them was swallowed by their own thoughts, buried too deep in what had happened, and what was to come.
The car glided through the quiet streets of Aster City. Alpha Elijah had been around recently, handling the growing crisis around Patrick Vale. And while most would’ve stayed in a hotel or government facility, Elijah preferred his privacy and control. Hence, he’d taken up residence in his private estate in the city.
As the black vehicle pulled into the estate’s gated perimeter, the reinforced electric gate recognized the car’s license and slid open with a mechanical whirr.
Inside, the driveway stretched in elegant curves under a canopy of manicured trees, and the car slowed to a smooth stop at the front entrance.
Then Christian stepped out from the front passenger seat, adjusted his jacket, and rounded to the side. He opened the rear passenger door and Elijah emerged, composed as ever.
Asher and Alaric exited the vehicle on their own without waiting for permission. Elijah looked at them and said. "We’d talk in the living room." Then he walked ahead and the boys followed him.
As expected of an Alpha king’s residence, the house was nothing short of grand. It had high ceilings crowned with intricate molding, dark-paneled walls accented with modern art and marble floors that gleamed like still water under warm ambient lighting. Everything smelled like power.
Elijah led them inside without a word, his gait calm, and assured, as if this was just another ordinary day.
"Take a seat," he said, gesturing towards the luxurious couches before veering off toward the mini bar tucked in the corner. The bar was small but fully stocked with amber and gold bottles.
He selected a dark decanter and set it on the glass table, only to return moments later with three tumblers.
Alaric eyed the bottle warily. "Don’t you think it’s a little too early to be drinking?"
Elijah met his gaze without blinking. Then, without a word, he popped the stopper and began pouring.
"I’d say," Elijah said, "after everything you guys went through last night, a drink is exactly what you need."
He filled the glasses halfway, then lifted one, and raised it ever so slightly in Asher’s direction.
Elijah said coolly, "My condolences on the death of your father."He knocked back the drink in one motion, finishing it without a flinch, and returned the glass to the tabletop.
There was a sharp tick in Asher’s jaw. Without replying, he snatched his glass, downed it in a single motion, and slammed it back on the table.
Alaric, never one to be outdone, followed suit with his own tumbler. The moment the liquid hit his throat, he winced. God, what drink was that? It was hard stuff.
Was Elijah trying to get them drunk to get the truth out of their mouth? Well, that was not beyond him. Alaric made a mental note to not have the stuff a second time.
"How did Henry die exactly?" Elijah inquired.
And there they go. Alaric could see this for what it was. An interrogation.
Werewolves were good at detecting lies. But since they were so good, it also meant they were able to tell their own lies without being caught.
"Why are you so curious?" Asher said casually. "Didn’t you get the whole report at the agency? We already told them all we know. What more do you want to know?"
Elijah offered a smile. The kind that didn’t dare touch his eyes. He rose, walked slowly over, and perched on the armrest of a chair, his stare unwavering. "I just find it interesting that a man like your father, selfish to the bone, would suddenly decide to die for someone else." His gaze fell on Alaric’s. "For all of you."
But Asher didn’t so much as blink. "Henry was a prick," he said evenly. "But sometimes staring death in the face forces you to realize what actually matters. Maybe he did have a heart after all."
"Mhmm," Elijah hummed, unconvinced. He poured himself another drink and downed it in one smooth swallow.
He asked again. "Pray tell. What about Roman, Griffin, and Violet? If I wasn’t so careful, I’d think they committed a crime and are on the run. At least that’s what the authorities think. It’ll do you well if your friend is found."
"Roman is having a fucking spree with Violet right now."
Elijah choked on his drink. "What?!" he coughed.
"Oh yes," Alaric confirmed. "Violet is mated to Roman Draven now."
The Alpha King’s hand trembled around his tumbler. He masked it poorly by shifting his grip and pretending nothing happened. It wasn’t exactly impossible to have more than one mate, but it was rare. Incredibly rare.
But most of all, why Violet Purple?
Asher continued without mercy. "The bond hit them hard in the middle of the disaster. We knew if the authorities caught them, Roman would snap and then attack them, and make the situation worse, so we decided to send them ahead and prevent the disaster."
He added, "I suggest you also call your men off. We already know how dangerous mated pairs can be. I mean, you saw it firsthand with Micah."
Asher was smug as hell as Elijah absorbed the blow, his face hardening as if the floor had vanished from under him.
"You should go rest. Both of you," he said suddenly, trying to take charge of the situation that was getting out of control.
"Of course. That would be lovely, Your Majesty." Although his words were polite, it was the arrogance of his tone that pissed Elijah off.
Elijah’s gaze darkened slightly. "I’ll take it that you’re grieving, but you will respect me. Because trust me, you want me on your side if you want to be the next Alpha." He commanded, "Leave now."
Alaric bowed slightly, unlike Asher, who sauntered out of the place with sass.
Elijah watched them go, his jaw tight, and his grip on the empty glass dangerously white-knuckled.
Christian came into view at that moment and he turned asking him.
"Tell me, what have you found about that girl, Violet Purple?"