ERIC

Good.

That was exactly how to get under his skin. Mentioning Kain. The best part of him. The son created from love.

The heir who would carry on his legacy while I remained the stain that tainted it.

Kain was my father’s pride. His firstborn. The son he proudly introduced to every Alpha who visited our pack.

My father let out a low growl as he stalked closer.

The vein along his jaw pulsed violently beneath his skin, so tense it looked ready to burst. His teeth were bared openly now.

"This is the last time you ever mention your brother’s name in a filthy place like this," he snarled.

"And what if I it’s not?" I shot back bitterly.

Without warning, my father yanked me away from the wall, only to slam me back into it even harder.

Pain exploded through the back of my skull. The pressure against my throat shifted. His forearm disappeared, replaced by his hand.

Long fingers wrapped tightly around my neck, crushing my airway almost instantly. I gasped sharply, struggling against him despite my bound hands.

It didn’t help.

"You little piece of shit," my father roared. "How dare you speak to me like that?"

His grip tightened further.

"I blamed your mother from the moment she kept you," he spat viciously. "I told her I wanted nothing to do with the bastard she was carrying."

"Bastard?!" I bellowed through clenched teeth.

My father’s eyes blazed with fury. "A bastard I never wanted!"

Something inside me snapped.

The hurt. The shame. The years of neglect. The endless feeling of always being second place or worse, nothing at all.

The guilt I carried every time my parents fought because of me.

It all disappeared beneath something hotter. Something violent.

I yanked violently against the chain around my wrist with every ounce of strength I had. It burned. So fucking badly.

Pain seared through my skin as the silver bit deeper, sizzling against flesh and peeling away the outer layers.

Tears stung my eyes instantly, but I didn’t stop. Either my father killed me here with his hand around my throat or I endured the agony of silver and wolfsbane long enough to fight back.

"A weakling," my father’s voice cut through my thoughts coldly. "Do you finally understand why you’ll never be as good as your brother?"

My lungs screamed for air. The harder I struggled, the worse the pain became. My knees buckled beneath me, and I slid halfway down the wall.

Heat burned behind my eyes.

Help me, Raze.

My father leaned down suddenly, grabbing the front of my shirt before yanking me upright again until we were eye level.

"You’ll never be like Kain," he said directly into my face. "Because he is everything a Callahan should be. You’re nothing but a worthless rabid mutt."

Hatred twisted violently inside me.

"Everywhere you go, destruction follows," he continued harshly. "I knew from the moment you were born that you’d ruin every—"

"You made me this!" I thundered.

The words exploded out of me before I could stop them.

I was done. Done staying quiet. Done taking it. Inside my head, Raze snarled viciously.

Finally.

With a furious growl, I yanked hard against the silver chain again. This time it snapped.

The chain shattered apart completely.

My father’s eyes widened for half a second before I shoved him backward hard enough to force him several steps away from me.

He hissed, rage twisting across his face. But I barely saw it anymore. All I saw was red.

"You fucking made me into this!"

This animal. This beast far worse than any common wolf. A creature driven by nothing except bloodlust, selfishness, and the endless urge to kill.

A fucking monster. And now he had the nerve to stand there and shame me?

As though he had no part in what I became. The agony. The fear. The years of trauma he carved into me...

I shoved myself away from the wall and ripped the remaining restraints from my body.

Silver tore against my skin, but I barely felt it anymore. My eyes locked onto his as I stalked toward him.

He didn’t back away. Didn’t even blink. Those crimson eyes seared into mine with the same hatred he’d always carried for me.

Hatred I never understood. Never deserved. The disgust he felt at the thought of me being his son.

A bitter scoff left me. A legacy he rejected long before I was even old enough to understand what it meant.

"I tried my best," I murmured.

My voice trembled despite my effort to steady it. Tears burned painfully behind my eyes.

"What did I do so wrong," I asked hoarsely, "to deserve all the hate you give me?"

My father said nothing. He only stared at me. Coldly. Maybe it was the wrong question. But I needed to know.

Perhaps if I understood why, I could finally stop seeing him as a monster. I could see him as a father who simply failed.

A father who once wanted the best for his son.

"I’m not asking you to love me the way you love Kain," I said.

My father’s eyes narrowed immediately, his jaw tightening. I swallowed hard against the ache building in my throat.

"I’m not asking for his birthright," I continued shakily. "Or the blessings you gave him. I..."

I sucked in a deep breath. The tears burning in my eyes felt hotter now, threatening to fall at any second.

"I just want you to acknowledge me," I said. "I’m your son too. And I’m trying my best than you think..."

"You call this your best?" My father’s lips curled downward in disgust. His gaze swept slowly around the room before landing back on me. "You call ending up in this damned place your best?"

No. It wasn’t. At least I understood now why I’d been brought here.

"And as for acknowledging you..." he said darkly, "that may never happen."

My chest clenched. Of course. I already knew that would be his answer before I even asked.

So why the hell had I hoped for something different?

I forced the tears back down. No. He didn’t deserve my tears. Never. I watched him walk toward the door.

Then he paused.

"Fix this mess," he said. "The stain you’ve made of our family’s name."

Slowly, he turned his head toward me.

"And maybe," he added, "I’ll change my mind about you."

Hope bloomed inside my chest before I could stop it. My heart leapt as I stared after him.

Maybe he would acknowledge me someday.

Inside my head, Raze let out a mocking snicker.

"Haven’t you learned anything yet?"

I stayed silent, still staring at the open doorway.

"Moments ago he said he wanted nothing to do with you," Raze growled. "He’s your own blood, yet he treats you worse than a servant."

"Maybe he’ll change," I replied.

Raze laughed. "You’re naive, Eric," he sneered. "Strong. But fucking naive. That man is playing you!"

Sure. Even I wasn’t naive enough not to recognize my father’s manipulation.

It was one of his greatest skills. Still, a part of me still wanted to believe him. If I finally did something right in his eyes, If I gave him exactly what he wanted, I’d stop feeling like an outcast and finally become a real Callahan.

I didn’t need to be anyone’s favorite. I just wanted somewhere to belong.

"You’ve already spent years doing everything he wanted," Raze hissed. "You followed in your brother’s footsteps your entire life and nothing changed, Eric."

I shut my eyes briefly. "Let me have this moment," I muttered. "Let me believe there’s still hope."

Raze scoffed.

"Fine," he snapped. "Just don’t come crying afterward."

Then he retreated to the back of my mind before I could answer.

A tired groan escaped me. Running a hand through my hair, I finally let the exhaustion hit me fully.

Breaking those chains had drained more strength than I wanted to admit. My legs gave out beneath me.

I slid slowly down the wall before pulling my knees toward my chest and resting my head against them.

For a few moments, I let the silence of the Hollow Vault wash over me.

Until—

"It really sucks being you, Callahan."

I grimaced. I forgot that bastard was still nearby. He definitely heard every word my father said.

Not that it mattered.

It wasn’t the first time my father publicly called me worthless or treated me like a disappointment.

"If that were my father," Woods continued casually, "I would’ve ripped a hole straight through his chest."

I lifted my head slightly. "Are you suggesting I kill my own father?"

Silence answered me. A dry snort escaped me as I shook my head.

Then he spoke again. "If that’s what it means to you, then yeah. Wouldn’t life be easier without someone constantly showing up just to tear you apart?"

A bitter thought crossed my mind. Maybe it would. But he was still my father. No matter how much I hated him.

He was still the reason I kept trying so damn hard. So killing him after spending years desperate for his approval would make everything meaningless.

Silence settled between us again. Then, footsteps echoed through the Hollow Vault. I stiffened, listening.

Please don’t let it be him again. I wasn’t ready to face my father another time.

As the scent drifted closer, relief loosened the tension in my chest.

Not my father.

A few seconds later, Headmaster Alaric stopped in front of the open cell.

"Eric Callahan," he said calmly, peering down at me through the glasses resting low on his nose.

I let out a breath and pushed myself to my feet. "Finally free," I muttered.