Defy The Alpha(s)

Chapter 502: Angus Family

Chapter 502: Angus Family

"You do know sending for me is better than dragging me out like this," Micah said through gritted teeth as he pushed himself off the cold floor, the impact still rattling through his bones.

He dusted himself off and finally looked up only for his breath to hitch.

Micah recognized Elijah’s palace at first sight. He had grown up here, running through these halls as a boy thinking the world was his until life had taught him differently.

But that wasn’t what rooted him to the spot. It was the sight of Angus sitting on Elijah’s throne. Or more precisely, what used to be his throne.

The throne was carved from a single slab of obsidian, its surface polished so dark it devoured the light around it. The back rose high in jagged peaks, crowned with gold inlays. The armrests curved into snarling wolf heads, fangs bared as if forever guarding the one who sat there, their eyes set with tiny shards of moonstone. Crimson leather cushioned the seat, stitched with crescent patterns marking the Alpha King’s divine right. At the base, the moon goddess’s sigil was etched deep into the floor, worn smooth by centuries of Alpha kings who had ruled before.

And Angus had draped himself across the seat of power like it belonged to him.

Of course, he wasn’t alone.

"Hello, brother."

name like it was

dying against her pale skin. She was his father’s third child and the one who had dared to summon him here as if he were some obedient servant

with a powerful witch, Ziva was easily the most dangerous of them all. She had slit her own mother’s throat and drained every drop of her magic just to claim that

hanging on his every command. From what Micah found out, she had even shared his bed in the hope of

as

I

was far from a visit and they had yanked him here against his

didn’t leave Ziva as he spoke, but his tone carried to Angus as well. Micah’s shoulders were squared, the set of his jaw daring either of them to push it further. The air between them was thick, and charged like the moment before lightning

like a predator’s purr, while Angus simply sat back and

the eyes he’d inherited from his mother. Beauty ran

thing the men of this family excelled at, it was bedding women. Elijah had scattered his seed with nothing to show for it, but Angus’s selective breeding was ruthless, and fruitful. Every child he sired was crafted for

he could hear the steady footsteps of guards patrolling outside the throne room yet no one came in to check. As if they

again when no one bothered to answer the

she had been asking the wrong question entirely. It was never him reaching out, rather it was Angus who knew exactly how to

moved closer to Angus, her fingers trailing over his arm with slow, deliberate strokes that were far too intimate for a father and daughter. Her touch was a claim, and when she finally spoke, her voice was that familiar low, rasping purr that could make even the bravest

knew our sister all along," she accused him, "and