Father Wrath

Vincent sat in the dimly lit chamber, his piercing gaze fixed on his unconscious son. The rhythmic rise and fall of Zach's chest was the only thing reassuring him that the boy was still alive. His hands clenched into fists on his lap, his mind a raging storm of emotions guilt, fear, and barely restrained fury.

How had this happened? Who would dare harm his son under his very roof? The thought sent a dangerous heat surging through his veins. He had spent years fortifying Ravennest, ensuring peace for his people and security for his family. And yet, despite all his efforts, his child had been attacked strangled in his own bed.

His failure weighed on him like an iron chain.

He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to regain control. Now was not the time for self-reproach. Zach needed him to be strong.

A small movement caught his attention. The boy stirred, his eyelids fluttering before slowly opening.

"Zach." Vincent's voice was quiet yet firm as he leaned in.

The child blinked up at him, confusion clouding his delicate features before recognition set in. "Father…?"

Relief washed over Vincent, but he kept his composure. He reached out, brushing a gentle hand over his son's tousled hair. "You should rest, my son. We will speak in the morning."

Zach looked as though he wanted to say something, but exhaustion won. He gave a small nod, his eyes slipping shut once more.

Vincent remained by his side for a long moment, watching over him in silence. Then, rising to his feet, he strode toward the door. His sharp gaze flicked toward the guards standing watch.

"Double the watch," he ordered, his voice brooking no argument. "No one enters this room without my explicit permission."

The guards straightened immediately. "Yes, my lord."

Satisfied, Vincent strode down the dim corridors of the estate, his expression unreadable, his steps measured but unyielding. When he reached his study, he sent word for the head of security.

Minutes later, a grizzled man entered, bowing respectfully. "My lord."

Vincent's cold, unwavering gaze met his. "There is a threat within these walls." His voice carried the weight of an unshakable will. "Someone attempted to murder my son. I want a full investigation every guard, every servant. No detail is too small. Find the culprit."

The head of security clenched his jaw. "Understood, my lord."

As the man turned to leave, Vincent exhaled slowly, his fingers tapping against his desk. His fury was controlled, but the fire within him burned fiercely.

Someone had dared to harm his family.

He would find them.

And when he did, there would be no mercy.

The Next Morning

Sunlight filtered through the curtains as Zach stirred awake. His body felt stronger, but his mind was weighed down by the chilling memory of the attack.

A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

"Young master," a servant called. "Lord Vincent has requested your presence in his study."

Zach sighed, pushing off the blankets. He had expected this. His father would demand answers but the problem was, he had none to give.

Moments later, he found himself standing before Vincent's imposing desk. His father's piercing gaze bore into him, sharp yet calm. Beneath that hardened exterior, however, was a flicker of concern only a son could recognize.

"Zach." Vincent's voice was steady, controlled. "Tell me everything you remember."

Zach hesitated. Flashes of that suffocating darkness, the feeling of invisible hands tightening around his throat, haunted the edges of his mind. But when he tried to grasp onto the details, they slipped away like sand through his fingers.

"I… don't know, Father," he admitted, shaking his head. "I just… woke up."

Vincent studied him for a long moment, searching for any hint of deception. Finding none, he finally nodded.

"I see."

There was no frustration in his tone, only quiet contemplation. Zach wasn't lying he truly didn't know.

"You may go," Vincent said at last. "But if you remember anything, come to me immediately. Understood?"

"Yes, Father."

Zach bowed slightly before turning to leave. But as he stepped out of the study, a strange unease settled deep in his chest.

Somewhere in this house, someone wanted him dead.

And something told him this was only the beginning.