Mike lounged on a plush, leather couch in what was once his brother's private study, now his personal den. He had a glass of whiskey in one hand, the other resting on the bare leg of a young woman who was a servant. The girl, nervous and clearly uncomfortable, kept her eyes on the floor, avoiding the sight of the true Luna, Mike's mate, sitting stiffly in a high-backed chair across the room.
The Luna, a beautiful but clearly broken woman, held a teacup in her hands, her knuckles white from gripping it too tightly. She was forced to sit there, a silent witness to her husband's constant infidelity and abuse of power. A silent tear traced a path down her cheek, but she dared not make a sound.
Mike took a slow sip of his whiskey, his eyes fixed on his Luna, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "What's the matter, my dear?" he sneered. "You look like you've just seen a ghost." He gestured to the young servant girl. "Relax. I'm just taking a moment to appreciate the true beauty of this pack. Not everyone has your… unfortunate disposition."
The servant girl flinched, and for a second, she looked as if she would stand, but the Luna shook her head almost imperceptibly, a silent warning. Before the girl could move, the door opened and a male Beta, a man named Marcus who had been loyal to Mike's brother, walked in.
Marcus saw the scene before him and his expression hardened. He was one of the few who still held a flicker of loyalty to the old Alpha. "Alpha," he said, his voice strained. "There are some matters to discuss."
Mike laughed, a cold, hard sound that echoed in the room. "Can't you see I'm busy, Marcus? What is it? Has some other Beta been giving you problems? Or are you just here to ogle the pretty ones and pretend you have some authority?" He gestured dismissively to the Luna. "Or perhaps you've come to offer your services to my sad, little Luna? Don't you know she doesn't deserve your pity?"
Marcus's face flushed with anger. "That is not how you speak to a Luna, Alpha. She deserves your respect."
Mike's cruel smile vanished. He slammed his glass down on the table, the sound echoing with finality. "Respect? I am the Alpha, I am the one who gets respect, not the other way around. My Luna knows her place, and you, Marcus, should remember yours. You're lucky I even let you live after what you tried to do to me. Don't push me again. Get out of my sight before I do something you'll regret."
With that, Marcus's face turned white with fear. He bowed his head and left the room, his fists clenched, his spirit broken. Mike smiled again, a triumphant look on his face. "See, my dear?" he said to his Luna. "They're all cowards. They'll never stand up to me. And neither will you."
Mike leaned back in the plush chair, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched his Luna's silent suffering. The quiet, humiliated tears were a balm to his insecure soul. He took another long sip of his whiskey, then turned his gaze to the nervous servant girl beside him. He grabbed her chin, his grip firm and unyielding, and stared into her frightened eyes. "You're beautiful," he said, his voice a low, mocking growl, "and you know it. Why do you pretend otherwise? Or is it that you have to pretend to be scared because my pathetic Luna looks like a mouse caught by a cat?"
He leaned in and kissed her forcefully, his eyes never leaving his Luna. The act was not one of desire, but of pure dominance, a final, public humiliation meant to break his mate completely. The Luna, her face pale, finally snapped. Her teacup clattered to the floor, shattering into a dozen pieces. "You are a monster!" she cried out, her voice cracking with years of suppressed pain. "You dishonor this title, this family, and you expect me to sit here and watch it? This is not what an Alpha does!"
Mike's smile vanished. He stood up, his massive frame looming over her. "What an Alpha does?" he snarled. "I will show you what an Alpha does." He backhanded her across the face with a loud crack, sending her sprawling onto the floor. "An Alpha does whatever he wants. An Alpha takes whatever he wants. An Alpha rules without question. And you," he spat, pointing a finger at her trembling form, "you are nothing. You are a discarded piece of trash, a pathetic reminder of a life that I have risen above. You and your children are worthless. Do not ever speak to me again unless you have my permission." The young servant girl, seeing the brutality, let out a whimper and scurried from the room.
Just as Mike was about to deliver a final, chilling threat, the sharp, jarring ring of his phone cut through the tense silence. He pulled it from his pocket, annoyed at the interruption, but his irritation vanished when he saw the caller ID. John.
A slow, triumphant smile spread across his face. He quickly answered, his voice shifting from the snarling monster to a smooth, confident Alpha. "John," he said, his tone carefully neutral, as if he hadn't just brutalized his mate. "To what do I owe the honor of this call?"
"Mike," John's voice was cold and clipped, devoid of any of their usual camaraderie. "I need to see you. I have an important matter to discuss with you. Something that pertains to our family and the pack."
Mike's heart swelled with a sudden rush of pride. John's formal, somber tone could only mean one thing: an invitation of immense importance. "What is it?" he asked, his voice tight with anticipation. "Where are you?"
"I am at the Lycan King's pack," John stated flatly. "The King is hosting a banquet tomorrow night. It is a formal event. I expect you to be here. We will discuss everything then."
The line went dead, leaving Mike staring at his phone, a smirk plastered on his face. The Lycan King. A meeting with the most powerful Lycan in the land. This was not just a social visit; this was a summons, a summons to a place of power.
Mike's mind began to race, a thousand possibilities swirling in his head. He had worked tirelessly to build his power, to kill all the whispers of dissent. He had ruled with an iron fist, asserting his dominance and strength. He knew his position was a house of cards, but he had managed it flawlessly. He had cleaned up every bit of evidence from his brother's death and ensured no one could ever question it. The King couldn't possibly know about that. This had to be about his recent successes, his growing influence, and the power he had consolidated. He was ready to seize it.