Wrecking Ball.

London:

Something was wrong; I could feel it. I was exceptionally angsty, anxious, worried, and troubled. It was like every cell in my body could sense something bad happening, but I couldn't quite place my finger on it. Thus, I remained pacing around my room, downing glass after glass of whisky and vodka, occasionally smashing the glass, and growling whenever the feelings peaked.

I rubbed my fingers together, taking a deep breath while I ran my fingers through my hair, because why the fuck could I not calm down? Why was a tiny voice in my soul whispering dangerous things to me? I understood that it had gotten pretty late and Blaire was still nowhere to be found, as well as the possible dangers that could be awaiting her, but was that really enough for me to be feeling as troubled as this?

Jax had gone home almost immediately, and I knew he was working his ass off trying to find Blaire, but that wasn't my problem. My problem was a report that I got from him. He said he had sensed magic coming from Blaire, the magic being that her wolf had been sealed off. Someone sealed off her fucking wolf, and that was not good at all because with a sealed-off wolf, she was almost as good as a human, and that meant that tracking her would be very difficult because her scent wouldn't exist anymore. It would be faint, almost non-existent.

Which begged the fucking question of who on earth would seal off her wolf? Could it have happened during her encounter with Hayes? That fucking bastard! With Blaire already being fucking pregnant, carrying my babies was already as difficult as it was. Now, with her being almost human, her pregnancy could kill her because my blood running through the veins of our children could kill her. It would be too fucking strong for her to handle, and her body could literally break apart.

I smashed the glass in my hand against the wall, breathing ferociously as I stared at the shattered pieces of glass, glaring at the pieces that had flown about during the collision and pierced my skin. Why were things only getting worse for me, huh? For the love of all things sane, why did she even run away in the first place? Had Jax done something horrible to her? I hoped to Luna he didn't because I wouldn't hesitate to drive my hand through his heart.

Jax might have been the son of my father's mistress and two years younger than me, but I never looked at him like my brother because he was the product of my father betraying his freaking mate. My situation with Jax grew worse when I fell fucking sick. My father, fearing that I would die with my powers, leaving him without a powerful heir, had asked Miller's father to do research on a way to make Jax almost as powerful as I was.

My father back then hadn't even grasped the full extent of Fuyu's powers, and it was ironic because if he could go to the length of having a part of me fused with Jax just to create a being that would have the little strength and power I had displayed a little back when I was a kid, imagine what he would have done now had he been alive. So when I said Jax was just a failed replica of me, understand where I was coming from.

The sicker I fell, the more he focused on Jax rather than giving his dying child some attention, and it was something I never forgave him for, not even on his death bed. I had never gone to see him since he fell ill, nor did I go to see him when he requested my presence. The old man knew his time was up and perhaps felt it was time for a little talk. I scoffed.

I hissed when my injured arm creeked, immediately sending a sharp pain jolting up my neck. I was overexerting myself, and I knew it wasn't good. I didn't care to pick out the pieces of glass wedged in my skin because all I wanted to do was sit down and stay absolutely still.

I dropped myself into my seat, drawing a deep breath as I sat in deafening silence. My issues were fundamental, and as I drifted down memory lane, I realised I was more afraid of fatherhood than I had expected because I was cold. I could turn out to be even worse than my father. I was dysfunctional, and do not even get me started on the weird reason why I hated females. I always disliked them since I was a little child, for reasons I couldn't comprehend, and my father's affair only worsened it.

I guess my dislike showed very well in how I treated Blaire. I was never one to get attached to anything or anyone, yet as I sat in the company of silence, I realised that I had strangely gotten attached to Blaire. Her tenacity had gripped and intrigued me because I always wondered why she didn't just accept my rejection and leave.

If she had just fucking done that, I wouldn't be sitting in an emotional mess at the moment or fucking worried about becoming a father. I wasn't fatherhood material, and neither was Fuyu, so knowing that in a few months I'd be called a dad was hugely terrifying.

The more I thought about that darned woman, the more I found myself growing increasingly upset. Why on earth did she run away? Did she just derive pleasure from making me uneasy and inexplicably restless? She was fucking pregnant, for goodness sake, and that was even worse.

She was a walking bait for all interested in ruining me, Hayes especially. My children in her womb shared my blood, and with the right knowledge of rituals and spells, one could get to me. Thankfully, the book of the Condemned was in my possession, so I didn't need to worry much. Even Hayes, in all his power, still needed the book to be in his possession, so I wasn't worried about other useless Alphas.

I wasn't joking when I said the heavens forgive my enemies should any harm come to Blaire because I was going to go on a murder spree. I have been poked too much and was extremely volatile; any more loss on my part would drive me to the brink of insanity, most especially Blaire. I would burn the entire four kingdoms to the ground for retribution if as much as a single hair on her head was harmed.

The whole kingdom would shake in terror, for I would do the unthinkable. And if by any means Hayes messed with her again, then R.I.P. to the both of us because I wouldn't care if it was going to cost me my life; I was going to make sure I sent him back to the hell he belonged to. It was a fucking promise.

My thoughts were cut short when a sudden, sharp pain attacked my heart, sending shivers down my spine at the icy feeling that grew in the spot where the sharp pain came from. I gripped my chest as strained breaths left my lips. Was this also a result of overexertion? My lips quivered at the sudden cold I felt, and I drew in a deep breath to calm myself.

My door suddenly burst open, and a panicked Freya ran into my office. I was still trying to cover the bottle of whisky that I had just taken a large gulp from to combat the cold, but I was frozen the moment I heard the next set of words that flew out of her mouth.

“Alpha, it's Mathias; he's on a rampage. He's screaming gibberish and has become difficult to hold down. So far, the guards who tried to hold him down have been severely injured. His eyes are completely obsidian, and black veins have grown on his skin. We need you to come and have a look.”

The bottle fell from my hands, as did the implications of her words. Just fucking great; more drama for me to handle.