Page 26 of Unhinged Alphas

She moves toward the heavy oak door that separates the anteroom from my father's inner sanctum, but before she can announce me, the door flies open and a young lieutenant comes barreling out. His face is pale, glimmering with a thin sheen of sweat, and his eyes are wide with a sort of haunted terror.

What the hell was that about?

I've seen my father angry before, furious even. And he's no stranger to intimidating his underlings. But as I watch the officer flee the chambers like his life depends on it, I can tell my father is in one hell of a mood.

Before I have time to start dwelling on it, the door opens again, and my father's stentorian voice rings out. "Thane! Get in here."

I snap to attention, tamping down the contradictory impulses warring inside me—the chain of command, drilled into me from birth, and the growing sense of resentment. Of defiance against this man and all he represents.

Squaring my shoulders, I stride forward, pushing through the door and into the lion's den.

My father is seated behind his massive desk, his broad frame seeming to fill the space with his mere presence. Even sitting, he cuts an imposing figure, every inch the seasoned militarycommander who's led armies into battle and emerged victorious time and again.

His gaze snaps to me as I enter, those hard eyes raking over me in a silent assessment. Judging, always judging, as he's done since the day I was born. Seeking out any hint of weakness, any crack in the armor he's spent a lifetime forging around me.

"General," I say, keeping my tone carefully neutral. "I take it your meeting didn't go well?"

He snorts, a sound equal parts derision and disgust. "Hardly. Just more bureaucratic nonsense from the Council's lapdogs. Seems they have issues with how I've been handling certain matters," he growls, his lips curling around the words.

There's an undercurrent to his words, a subtle emphasis that has the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. He doesn't usually go into even that much detail abouthiswork.

Does he suspect I know?

Has he figured out I'm aware of the Council's illicit dealings and his potential involvement?

I dismiss the thought as paranoia, focusing instead on maintaining an air of detached professionalism. "Well, I'm sure you'll have it sorted soon enough. You always do."

A thin smile curves his lips, more a baring ofteeth than any true expression of mirth. "It's good to see you haven't lost your confidence in my abilities, son."

He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers beneath his chin as he regards me with a look I can't quite parse. "Speaking of abilities, it's just as well that you came. I've been meaning to congratulate you on the success of your mission. Seems it went off without a hitch."

I give a tight nod of acknowledgment. "It did. Valek played his part flawlessly, and Nikolai remains an active connection."

"Excellent." There's a predatory glint in his eye now, a spark of vicious satisfaction that sets my teeth on edge. "Those weapons will go a long way toward crippling the so-called 'resistance' once and for all. Our allies in the Outer Reaches will be most pleased."

Our allies.

The words hang in the air between us, laden with unspoken implications. Is he referring to the rogue factions and warlords the Council has been backing in their bid to solidify control over the outlying regions? Or does he mean the omega traffickers the Council is using to maintain control?

I force myself to meet his gaze, to keep myexpression impassive and focused. "I'm sure they will be. We can't allow these insurgents to gain any more of a foothold than they already have. Especially if they're anything like Nikolai."

"I see he made quite the impression," he says with a wry smirk.

"An indelible one," I say in a tone of practiced disgust. Nikolai isn't anything special to me, and truth be told, I find him half as repugnant as the man sitting across from me at the moment. But I need to keep up the act. Give my father no reason to expect my commitment to the mission has wavered. "Men like him are the reason the world out there is the cesspit it is."

"Well said." He nods, a glimmer of approval in those cold eyes. "You're learning, Thane. Finally starting to see the bigger picture instead of getting bogged down in the details."

I bristle at the subtle condescension, the implication that I've somehow been short-sighted or naive up until this point when he hasn't dirtied his hands in decades. But I bite back the instinctive urge to lash out, to defend my honor and my capabilities. That's what he wants, after all—to goad me into an emotional reaction he can exploit, to find whatever cracks exist in my armor and pry themwide open.

Instead, I simply incline my head in a show of deference. "I guess you could say my time in the Outer Reaches has made me appreciate things here."

My father tilts his head curiously. "How so?"

I shrug, aiming for a nonchalant air. "Just a better understanding of the bigger threats we face. The true depths of the resistance's depravity and the lengths dogs like Nikolai are willing to go."

It's a gambit. A carefully crafted feint to gauge his reaction. If he is aware of the Council's role in the omega trafficking—if he's complicit in that foulness and he has even a hint of decency left—he'll squirm.

Sure enough, he shifts in his seat. "Ah, yes. The insurgents are a wretched sort. Little more than animals, really, lashing out at the civilized world like the rabid beasts they are."