In the silvery waterfall of moonlight, Jonathan Aztec, my second in command, holding rank as Beta of the Northridge pack, was something to behold. His powerful shoulders seemed to carry the waning gibbous, and the shadows that devoured the vast grounds of Battleridge manor granted him a wide berth.
He was a superior specimen. He was a male worthy of the ranking he'd been bestowed. But like all creatures, he wasn't born perfect, and his character flaw was a fault that bled out into the night like a severed artery: Concern.
It charged the air between us, a thick blanket that settled against the lungs like a boa-constrictor's loving embrace.
"What did you find?" I asked. The perverse silence that had entombed the dilapidated courtyard, screaming so loud it rang through my ears like a twisted lullaby, was shattered upon his approach. His boots smacked against the waterlogged ground, echoing in a way that spoke of his failures before he'd even opened his mouth. 
"Nothing,"
.......
"Until I can figure out what's going on, nobody finds out about the boy. Understand?"
"Understood."
"You're not going to ..." The pause that followed dragged out. "He's just a baby, Sterling."
"You're dismissed."

The Littlest Light

Lumen had spat his dinner at Clarke.

Lumen now sat on the last step of the staircase, glaring and stomping his bare feet against the floor, making pained noises. He protested and called out, but he didn't disobey the direct order not to move.

I wasn't happy with this punishment; pain faded quickly but it taught right a man right from wrong pretty damn quick.

My own body bore the scars of my father's teaching. He had taught me to be strong and unbending. He had taught me to be obedient and ruthless. To respect only those who deserved it.

His lessons, they still lived with me, deeper than the marks on my skin. They made me the man I was today.

I had initially wanted to smack Lumen. Not hard. The kid was such a damn crybaby that the act alone would have probably have been enough. Maybe just a clap on the back of his hands or the back of his knees.

Chapter25