CHAPTER 252: AN OVERLOOKED DETAIL

Draven.

Oscar had barely stepped out of the study when silence settled over the room again.

I went back to the stack of documents on my desk, skimming through columns of numbers, cross-checking signatures. The ledgers needed to be balanced before I left for Duskmoor.

My mind was already calculating what needed to be wrapped up before tomorrow when a knock sounded at the door.

It opened before I could answer. My father stepped in.

"Are you very busy right now?" he asked.

I set my pen down. "No. I have some time to spare for a chat."

He nodded, expression unreadable as always. I pushed my chair back and moved to the sitting area in the corner of the study.

The leather creaked as I sat. He joined me, his movements deliberate, unhurried.

"I heard you’re leaving for Duskmoor tomorrow," he began. "And that Beta Gabriel of the Moonstone pack visited."

I leaned back in my seat. "You heard right."

He studied me for a moment before asking, "Are you truly serious about what you said? That Meredith is your mate, and that you plan to make her Queen when you ascend the throne?"

My jaw tightened. "Father, I don’t know how many times you want me to repeat this, but I’ve done it over and over again. I’m not changing my mind."

He didn’t reply. Just sat there, watching me in that heavy silence of his, as if he thought I’d fill the air with something I didn’t mean. I wasn’t falling for it.

I stayed quiet too, letting the seconds stretch.

Finally, he broke the silence—but not with what I expected. "Won’t you go visit your mother before leaving?"

I shook my head. "Not this time."

The last visit flashed in my mind—the sudden madness in her eyes, the way her voice had risen into an accusation I didn’t deserve, claiming I’d sided with him to lock her away.

The memory still left a bitter taste. I had walked out then, and I had no intention of walking back into that storm. Not today. Not tomorrow.

"She’s not well," my father said, his tone carrying a rare trace of patience. "Her illness eats away at her. But a short visit might help. And she might be calmer this time."

"It won’t," I said flatly. "You know as well as I do, she’s not going to hear me—not the way she is now."

I wasn’t up for any experiment, waiting out to see if my mother would be calmer this time or not. Today just wasn’t the day for it.

My father’s gaze lingered on me, but I didn’t waver. I wasn’t looking for an argument, but I also wasn’t about to let sentiment drag me into another round of accusations and slammed doors.

In the end, he was the first to give up seeing that I had already made up my mind.

He leaned back in his chair, studying me in that measured, assessing way he had done since I was a boy.

"Keep me informed of any activity from the humans or the vampires when you get to Duskmoor."

I gave a short nod. "You’ll have every report I can spare."

"And take care of your younger brother," he added, his tone light but the weight behind it unmistakable. "Protect him and teach him everything you know."

A corner of my mouth lifted faintly. "I will keep your son in one piece."

He seemed satisfied with that, pushing himself to his feet with the slow deliberation of someone deciding exactly how to end a conversation. I

remained seated, watching him cross the room, his presence as steady and immovable as ever.

When he reached the door, he paused with his hand on the handle. Without looking back, he spoke—voice lower, but each word deliberately shaped.

"If you insist on making Meredith Queen, be prepared to face the consequences from the larger faction of elders who oppose you."

He turned then, fixing me with a look that was half warning, half challenge.

"But I have some advice for you," he continued. "No one wants a liability on the throne. It will do you some good if you find a way to make your wife useful."

The words landed like the dull thud of a closing book—final, but not forgotten.

I didn’t rise. I didn’t even blink. My gaze stayed on him until he turned away and stepped out, the soft click of the door sealing the silence in his wake.

For a moment, I sat motionless, letting the quiet stretch. My father’s caution was not without merit—but it was based on an assumption I had no intention of allowing to stand.

My wife was no liability. And if the elders wanted a demonstration, I would give them one they would never forget.

Suddenly, it struck me—I’d forgotten something important.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling through my nose. Of all days to overlook this detail...

Without wasting a second, I reached out through the mind-link. "Jeffery."

His reply came almost instantly. "Alpha?"

"Send Madame Beatrice to my study," I instructed.

His response was immediate. "Right away."

Madame Beatrice had managed the Oatrun estate for as long as I’d known her. She was efficient, discreet, and more loyal than most wolves in my own ranks.

And this was the very reason I had entrusted Meredith to her care the day I brought her into my home. She was one of the few I could rely on without question.

A few minutes passed, the steady scratch of my pen over parchment filling the silence as I closed out the last of my account reviews.

Then, three firm knocks rapped against the study door—neither hesitant nor overfamiliar.

"Enter," I said.

The door swung open and Madame Beatrice stepped in, her posture straight, eyes clear. She inclined her head respectfully. "Alpha, you sent for me."

I nodded and gestured toward the armchair across from mine in the sitting area. "Have a seat first."

She crossed the room with the same unhurried grace she carried in every task, lowering herself into the chair with her hands folded neatly in her lap.

I could already see the flicker of curiosity in her gaze—though she wouldn’t ask any questions yet.

She knew I would speak when I was ready.