Mason redirected his gaze to Daisy and smiled, stating, “You perplex him greatly, you know.” She did not respond, remaining sedated, a fact he acknowledged. He merely wished to converse with her, hoping that on some intrinsic level, she would not feel isolated and would recognise his presence. Thus, he remained by her side, informing her that Alpha Ronan had completed the design for her art studio and that Caelan had not only approved it but had also instructed the builders to commence work immediately.
Although he questioned her ability to hear him, he wished for her to understand that Caelan was not a malicious individual; perhaps one day Caelan would reveal the truth to her, though even Mason harboured uncertainties regarding this possibility. It will likely be necessitated by Mason himself. He observed her; she resembled her former self, prior to the upheaval in her life, and he appreciated her mischievous demeanour. It recalled her clandestine departure at fifteen to attend a gathering with friends near the northern shore of the lake, where she was apprehended upon returning by him and Caelan, who had been returning from Alpha College for the weekend.
Attempted to deceive both of them. No, she had not been consuming alcohol; rather, she was excessively laughing with her friends, all of whom were intoxicated and subsequently apprehended by their future Alpha and Beta. They were reported to their parents and faced repercussions, which included the obligation to clean the pack dining room every morning after breakfast for a week.
Caelan re-entered the room, disrupting Mason’s contemplation. Having just showered and changed attire, Mason, driven by curiosity, attempted to discern Caelan’s scent but detected only his customary aroma. Lydia appeared to have made no contact with the man’s arm whatsoever. He had not been absent long enough to engage in s****l relations with the girl. His alpha needs would require a more extended period to be fulfilled.
Mason and Caelan remained largely silent during the early hours of the morning. He recognised that Caelan was not merely angry about the situation; he loathed the sight and scent of Daisy’s blood even more than he despised the pack’s adversaries. That individual had inflicted pain upon her twice, of all people, the Alpha’s former Mate. A Luna-ranked wolf. What a foolish action to undertake.
Caelan notified Mason that John was awake, as the prison guard monitoring the cells had connected with him to inform him of the man’s conscious state. I am going, Caelan. “I had that scoundrel,” Mason remarked coolly as he rose from his chair.
“Do not kill him, Mason,” Caelan had instructed, appearing unfazed by his desire to be the first to strike the man. Despite Caelan’s prolonged gaze at Daisy, he was unlikely to shift until she regained consciousness and was breathing independently. It would be several hours before dawn as he proceeded to the cells in the darkness.
They had not administered wolfsbane or restrained him with silver; their intention was for him to recover. They desired Caelan’s soothing voice to resonate through the mind-link as he approached, to recount a lifetime of entering John’s cell, to inflict punishment for his transgressions against Daisy. For Mason, this signified that John needed to remain alive until Mason had concluded his retribution.
Mason had no intention of interrogating the man at that moment; he merely desired to inflict severe physical harm upon him, and he was resolute in his pursuit of that goal. Mason sensed that his wolf, Lark, yearned for solitude with the man, and he intended to grant that desire. “Indeed, you will.” Lark scoffed at him, and Mason understood that he would assert dominance regardless of any restraint.
Lark was exceptionally strong and fiercely protective of his loved ones, while his wolf despised scoundrels like John. He desired a portion of that man, and thus, today, he would obtain it.
John sat on the cell floor, resembling the filthy, repugnant creature he now emitted the odour of. How could he perpetrate such an act against his own offspring? She had been drawn directly into his trajectory. He ought to cherish her as if she were his own kin. Mason reminisced about how the man had once lavished affection on her during her childhood.
It transformed solely upon his discovery of his second chance mate, Rose, with whom he subsequently had offspring. The man’s gaze shifted directly to Mason’s, audaciously smirking at him, appearing quite self-satisfied. He sensed the fury emanating from his wolf; he had provoked both of them into releasing him, and he had triumphed. Daisy consistently held a preeminent position in his affections, a sentiment that eluded the comprehension of others. There was one instance, but she had never articulated anything significant; she merely gazed at the mark on his arm the day after its emergence and made contact with it.
She frowned at him and walked away, biting her lip.
He had refrained from interfering. It was evident that she had no desire to discuss the matter.
He could not ascertain whether the woman, if she had relinquished Daisy at birth, was the source of the mark he bore, which she recognised and found troubling. This implied that she comprehended the significance of his connection to her. He could not enquire of her, as it had been 18 years, and she had never exhibited any affection for the girl, at least not in his observation, having afforded her no attention whatsoever.
She did not desire her. If she were the girl’s mother, he possessed no evidence to substantiate that claim. However, he had his suspicions; he had never disclosed this information to anyone, not even Caelan. Subsequently, circumstances reverted to their usual state concerning that woman. It appeared that she had long since progressed in life.
“I wager you cannot eliminate me; my beloved daughter would despise you for it.” Then that scoundrel laughed directly at him. He was acutely aware that Daisy, perpetually compassionate, would never harm a single fly. Not even an individual who had explicitly attempted to assassinate her.
His words incited a crescendo of rage within both him and Lark, coalescing into a singular, intense force. They declared in unison, “I don’t care what she desires.” Subsequently, Mason removed his shirt and derided the man, who, at that moment, was overtaken by fear as he comprehended that Lark was approaching him imminently. Not Mason
Lark was a ferocious entity gnawing at the confines of Mason’s consciousness. ‘He belongs to me,’ he bellowed, and Mason was unwilling to deny his alpha wolf the blood it craved, which was substantial. ‘Do not kill him, Lark.’
