Michael stormed through the castle with only one thing on his mind: finding his mother. And it was his urgent need to see her that pushed him in the direction of the Throne Room.

He did not care about the pack meeting he had missed, nor the possible repercussions for his actions. His only thought was how to get his mother alone and tell her about his discovery in the Woodlands.

A discovery that threatened her safety the most.

His urgency had not deterred once he arrived at his destination, but the unguarded double doors forced him to halt.

Whenever a member of the Alpha family was inside, a guard or two was always stationed outside of the room. Not seeing a soul in sight meant one of either two things: neither his father nor mother were in the Throne Room, or the guards had been dismissed.

If the first, then they had most likely retired to their individual chambers, which would make it easier for Michael to talk to his mother alone. If the second—which happened only on the rarest of occasions—then nothing good would come from him entering that room.

Michael took a deep breath and placed his hands on both handles, but just as he was about to push the doors open, he heard his name called from behind.

Michael turned to see the guard from the night before walking towards him. When he stopped a few feet in front of him, eyes lowered, Michael questioned him.

"Is my mother still inside?"

"Your mother has retired to her chambers with Lady Emilia."

His Aunt Emilia was here?

He remembered his mother mentioning her older sister would be visiting, but he did not think it would be so soon. If that was why she had been called away earlier, then it was obvious she had not been expecting Emilia's arrival either.

But his aunt's arrival was the least of his concerns.

Michael took a step to head back down the corridor, but the guard stepped in front of him and blocked his path.

It was not a challenge, but Michael could not help but take the guard's actions as such. And just like he had done the night before, he stared down at him. He knew the guard would not meet his eyes, but was silently daring him to break protocol just so he would have a reason to challenge him right back.

The guard, however, stood his ground and kept his gaze lowered. "The Alpha is waiting for you in the Throne Room."

That made Michael refrain and take a step back. It would not have been wise to waste energy on a small fight when a larger one was bound to happen the moment he stepped into the Throne Room.

If his father was waiting for him then he must have known that Michael had not been in the castle. Considering the purpose and importance of the meeting, Michael was certain his father was not going to let his absence go unpunished. Although he had a legitimate reason for missing it, telling his father about his run in with a fairy in the Woodlands was absolutely out of the question.

So how exactly was he going to explain his whereabouts?

"The Alpha knows only that you were granted permission to visit the burial grounds. Your mother forbade anybody from entering to retrieve you."

Relief washed over him, though he did not dare show it.

Yet again, his mother had come to his defense, despite him failing to keep his promise to her. Grateful as he was, it made him seem like a child who needed his mother to constantly bail him out of trouble. It made him realize he needed to deal with the consequences of his actions, face them head on, fix the problems he created with his own hands and stand on his own two feet.

Turning away from the guard, Michael walked up to the double doors, pushed them open and entered the Throne Room. As expected, it was empty, which meant his father was really going to lay it on him. The Alpha was always careful to not be too over the top if there was an audience or if his mother was present because she would never allow it.

After a few steps in, Michael spotted his father seated on his throne across the room. He walked over to him and stopped just as the base of the stairs that led up the raised platform.

With brown eyes identical to his own, his father stared down at him but said nothing.

Michael wished he took a second to clean himself up because he saw nothing but judgement rather than concern in his father's glare as he gave him a once over.

"Did your mother not tell you there was a pack meeting today that you absolutely had to attend?"

"She did."

"So, you chose to disregard that command?"

"Not intentionally."

"Ah, then all should be forgiven, should it not? Because it was unintentional."

Michael restrained himself from rolling his eyes at his father's sarcasm. Challenging him when he was in a foul mood would have only made things worse. And if he wanted this scolding to end sooner rather than later—so he could talk to his mother—he had no other choice but to stand there and allow himself to be a target for his father's venomous words.

"I apologize, father. I was—"

"Spare me your apologies and excuses, as I do not particularly care. Just know I will no longer allow your selfishness, lack of interest, and nonchalant attitude to continue to make a mockery out of me and this pack. The pack you will one day lead, in case you have forgotten.

"For nearly a year, I let you grieve for your brother because your mother said you were not ready to accept and fulfill Gabriel's role. I let you skip pack meetings without repercussions. I let you come and go as you pleased. But that all ends now. From this moment onwards, you will take on your rightful role as future Alpha. You will take an interest. You will become everything Gabriel was meant to be. You will attend every meeting, and you will do everything I ask without question or complaint."

Michael lowered his eyes to the marble floor. He knew this was not a negotiation. Even if he did not want it, even if he was not ready, there was only one correct answer his father wanted to hear.

"Yes, father."

"Swear it. Swear it upon your mother's life. You will not leave this room if you do not."

Michael looked up at his father, and, as clear as day, saw, the difference between his parents. His mother was the only person who knew him best because she knew him inside and out, the good and the bad, his thoughts and feelings, what made him smile or cry. She knew everything about him in order to love him so greatly and deeply.

But his father only knew enough about Michael in order to hurt him, prey upon him, and force him into submission.His father knew he could get him to submit by using those he cared about—Gabriel and his mother.

His mother was all he had left, and he did not want anything bad to befall upon her because of him. And because he had just discovered a fairy in the Woodlands—which put his mother at risk, not only if the fairy was discovered but if his father in particular was the one to discover her—he could not take any chances with her safety.

His father's threat was clear: 'Do everything I say, or your mother will pay the consequences.'

Because there was always only one correct answer when it came to his father, Michael knew what he had to do.

He looked straight into his father's eyes, and did not dare to blink as he spoke. "I swear upon mother's life, I will do everything you ask."

A smile spread across his father's lips, as he stared down at Michael. "Remember what you have promised. Because after this moment, your life is mine."

* * *

Michael was pissed.

There was no doubt about that when he bypassed the guard after leaving the Throne Room and stormed down the corridor towards the main staircase.

But stronger than anger was his fear. And it was that fear that pushed him in the direction of his mother's chambers, determined not so much to tell her about the fairy anymore, but to simply see her because his father's threat made him unsettled.

Scoldings and threats were a normal part of their father-son relationship, but the Alpha had not threatened Michael in such a way in a long time. The lack of falter in his voice and empathy in his chilling gaze was meant to convey one thing only: 'If you are not with me, then you are against me.'

Gabriel's death had impacted them all, but the effect it had on his father—physically, emotionally, and mentally—had not only made him crueller, but turned him into a ruler who viewed everybody as either friend or foe.

Once upstairs and after navigating through a series of winding corridors, he heard footsteps behind him, which made him stop. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed the guard, who he thought he had left behind in front of the Throne Room, was following him.

Michael let out a deep sigh, and kept his back to the guard instead of turning to address him. "Why are you following me?"

"Before Lady Reina retired to her chambers, she instructed me to watch over you."

Watch over him, not watch him. The distinction was slight, but clear enough that Michael noticed.

"Well, then, you are dismissed. And I care not to hear that you do not take orders from me."

"She wished not to be disturbed as she spends time with Lady Emilia."

How does he know I am on my way to see my mother?

"Whether or not my mother finds my presence a disturbance is none of your concern."

"Is your trip to the Woodlands none of my concern, as well?"

Panic struck Michael hard. Hard enough it forced him to turn and face the guard.

How was he aware of my whereabouts when my mother did not even know?

"What the hell did you just say?"

For the first time, the guard looked up and stared Michael directly in the eyes. "Your mother told the pack you were at the burial grounds, but that is untrue. You were in the Woodlands."

Michael crossed the few feet between them, grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him close. The corridor they were in was dimly lit, but it was enough for Michael to take a really good look at him for the first time.

His tanned face—youthful and free of any wrinkles—made it obvious that he was fairly young. Older than Michael, but not by much. Similar to his own, the ends of the guard's dark brown hair touched his shoulders. Michael could not pin point exactly where he had seen him before, only that he looked familiar.

And that was all the more reason for Michael to be suspicious of him.

What more does he know? How much, if anything, did he see?

"I will not tell."

Unlike his father, Michael did not need to make the guard swear upon a life to ensure his promise was kept. In their world, a sure-fire way to get yourself in trouble—or worse, killed—was knowing too much, seeing too much, or speaking too much. The guard might have been annoying, but he was not stupid.

"There is nothing to tell. For the entire day, I was visiting my brother in the burial grounds just as my mother—your Alpha Female—said. Is that understood?"

The guard nodded. "Understood."

"Michael?"

His mother's voice pulled Michael's attention away from the guard and towards her. Down the corridor she stood with a bright smile on her face and his aunt Emilia by her side. Their arms linked through each other's made it obvious they had no intention of parting anytime soon.

He released his hold on the guard, and gave him a final look—a warning—before walking over to his mother and aunt.

"Is everything alright? When did you return?" She looked behind him.

Michael followed her gaze to the guard, who remained where he had left him but with his back to them. "All is well. I returned not too long ago."

He turned his sights on his aunt. "Aunt Emilia, 'tis nice to see you after such a long time." He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek before pulling her in for a hug.

"My dear, Michael. 'Tis nice to see you, too."

He pulled away and looked at his mother. "I am sorry for missing the meeting."

If he were to tell her something had come up, she would have pressed him for answers. And refusing to deliver them whilst his aunt Emilia was around to hear would have only raised more questions and suspicion.

She needed to know about the threat in the Woodlands. He had to tell her, but tearing them apart after such a long-awaited reunion would have been next to impossible.

But what good would come from prolonging the inevitable? Pretending as if the threat did not exist would not diminish it.

Why had he not just dealt with the fairy in a way that would have solved all of the problems her unexpected presence created?

He looked at his mother, who was already looking at him. The smile she still had on her face—one he had not seen in a long time— was all it took for him to come to a decision.

Tomorrow.

He would let her enjoy one more night full of smiles before he forced the world around her to come crashing down.

"If you both will excuse me, I think I will retire to my chambers."

"Of course. Sleep well, my son."

After a simple nod to bid them good night, Michael headed down the dimly lit corridor in the direction of his chambers, with only the sound of footsteps following close behind to accompany him.

A/N: Looks like Michael's trip to the Woodlands did not go unnoticed. Do you think the guard can be trusted?