"Alpha Supreme, we just received a message from your brother, Elijah," one of Angus’s men announced, stepping into the meeting room.

Ziva, who had been bored in the corner, using her magic to oscillate a small knife, quickly perked up. Her father and his men had been having one of those meetings where they didn’t need her opinion—unless she forced her way in.

When her father’s beta made a move to take the letter from the wolf who had brought the news, Ziva crossed the distance and snatched it first.

The beta snarled at the blatant disrespect.

But Ziva snapped, "It could have been spelled."

Jericho hissed, clearly annoyed. "And how would they do that? They don’t even have witches."

"You can never be too careful," Ziva shot back with the same attitude.

Jericho turned to Angus with a look that said everything he felt about his daughter.

But Angus simply closed his eyes and gave a small nod, silently telling him to let her be.

Ziva didn’t care about the beta’s feelings. She tore the letter from the envelope, making a show of running her magic over it, checking for any hidden traps.

There was none.

Then she held the letter out to Jericho. But her hand remained suspended in the air because the man didn’t take it. He simply stared her down, the tension between them thick, and ready to snap.

The other wolves in the room noticed it immediately.

"Jericho?" James called cautiously, sensing where this was heading.

Oh. Ziva saw it now. The beta’s ego had taken a hit.

Of course, she understood all that hierarchy nonsense between wolves. Jericho believed that as second-in-command, he could throw his weight around and that she was expected to bow to him.

But he was forgetting something. She was Angus’s daughter — and a wolf. Even if her witch side was stronger, her blood still placed her above him. And until that was made clear, he would keep treating her like some child.

So Ziva straightened instead, lifting her chin slightly, her gaze locking with his in silent challenge. If he wanted to, they could settle it now.

"Ziva." Angus’s controlled voice cut through the room, edged with the warning of a father who was close to reaching his limit.

Ziva let out a breath, schooling her expression into something that resembled restraint. Then she extended the letter toward Jericho once more, this time with a polite smile that did not quite reach her eyes.

"There," she said. "All yours."

Jericho didn’t take it immediately, glaring hard at her. The faint glow in his eyes showed the war raging within him, man and wolf clashing for control, both equally insulted, equally unwilling to back down.

The room seemed to tighten around them, every wolf present aware that one wrong move would tip this into something worse. Finally, Jericho snatched the letter.

Except Ziva had not let go completely, holding on for the briefest second, but that was enough to do the damage. The paper tore cleanly down the middle.

"Oops." She lifted a hand to her mouth, pretending to be shocked. "You should have been careful."

There was not a trace of sincerity in her voice.

That was it.

A dangerous growl tore from Jericho’s chest, low and feral, vibrating through the room before erupting into something violent.

"Jericho!" voices called out in alarm.

Too late.

His beast surged forward, overwhelming whatever control he had left as he lunged at Ziva, claws extending, and eyes blazing yellow with unrestrained fury.

Ziva didn’t flinch, lifting two fingers and Jericho’s body slammed hard into the wall, the impact cracking against stone with a force that rattled the room.

She had expected that move would be enough. After all, Ziva’s intention was to show her father exactly how weak his beta was — and he should prioritize her. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

But Jericho didn’t stay down.

A harsh breath left him as he pushed himself upright, shaking off the hit like it was nothing more than an inconvenience. His eyes were no longer human and burned with murderous intent as they locked on her.

Fuck. Ziva panicked a little.

Quickly, she raised her hand again, calling on more power. The air tightened and pressure crashed down onto Jericho like an invisible weight, forcing him back, trying to pin him where he stood.

"Ziva."

Angus warned her to back down.

But she couldn’t answer. Not when Jericho was pushing against her magic, his body trembling under the force, muscles straining, teeth bared as he fought to move.

She had to hold him and couldn’t afford to get distracted.

"Ziva!"

Angus’s voice cracked through the room like thunder and even as a witch, the command hit her hard.

Her focus broke and her hold on Jericho shattered. Ziva’s eyes widened just as her father’s beta broke free and came at her in a blur.

His claws ripped through her stomach first, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs. Right before the second strike sliced across her face and pain exploded through her.

Ziva screamed as she stumbled back, her legs giving out beneath her as she crashed to the floor. The world was spinning, her vision blurring at the edges. For a split second, she wondered if this would be her end. She couldn’t go yet.

"That is enough, Jericho!"

Angus’s voice slammed into the room with absolute authority and Jericho froze.

But not completely.

Every muscle locked in resistance as his wolf snarled beneath the surface, fighting against the command. His chest heaved, claws still extended, and dripping with blood, his gaze fixed on Ziva like a predator unwilling to release its prey.

He wanted to rip out her throat now that she lay there, bleeding, vulnerable, and within reach. He needed to finish her off once and for all.

For a moment, it looked like he might break it until Angus’s voice came again, hard and final.

"Now."

Jericho stopped.

The man stood frozen where he was, the haze cleared from his mind, the yellow glow in his eyes dimming as control returned.

Awareness settled in, and with it came the full weight of what he had just done. His hands began to shake, not out of fear, and certainly not out of regret for the girl writhing on the floor, but because he had lost control in front of everyone. To a child.

He forced his claws back, his jaw tightening as he took a step back, then another, putting distance between himself and Ziva.

"I apologize, Alpha," he said, his voice rough but controlled. His actions was not a trait of a leader. That was weakness.

Angus did not acknowledge him. He had already moved, his steps calm and deliberate as he walked over to where Ziva lay on the floor, blood pooling beneath her.

She writhed in pain, clutching at her stomach, her breaths uneven and shallow.

"Father..." Ziva gasped, her voice shaking. "I’m in pain..."

Angus looked down at her, and there was nothing in his eyes. No anger, warmth or concern, just cold indifference. Then, without warning, he pressed his shoe hard against the wound in her stomach.

Ziva screamed.

The raw sound tore through the room, her body jerking violently under the pressure as agony shot through her.

"F-Father—!" she choked, panic rising in her voice. For a brief moment, fear flashed in her eyes, realizing that he might truly kill her.

Angus leaned down slightly, his lips curling in a sneer. "You should be grateful you are still useful to me." He pressed harder for a second, forcing another broken cry from her.

"My patience is wearing thin, try to undermine my beta again, and next time, I will let him finish the job."

He finally released her.

Ziva collapsed back onto the floor, gasping for air, her body trembling uncontrollably as blood continued to seep from her wounds. It hurt. Goddess, it hurt. But she didn’t dare complain again.

Her heart pounded violently in her chest as shame and fear twisted together inside her. He was right. This was her fault. This was her punishment, and she was lucky it wasn’t worse.

"Lucas." He commanded.

A wolf stepped forward immediately. "Yes, Alpha."

"Take her to be treated."

Relief barely had time to settle before Angus added, "And inform the healer not to treat her face. That should serve as a reminder."

Ziva’s breath hitched, her chest tightening at the words. Her face. But even that—she would take it. It was better than death.

Lucas crouched down and carefully lifted her into his arms, turning to carry her out of the room. Ziva didn’t dare look back.

The moment the doors closed behind them, Angus turned away, as if the entire incident had been nothing more than a minor inconvenience. "James."

His advisor stepped forward, holding the torn sheet of paper that had been left behind.

"What does it say?"

James glanced down at the letter, then back up. "Elijah intends to give up his throne to you... " he paused. "Tomorrow."

For a moment, there was silence. Then Angus laughed loudly. His men said nothing, waiting for his decision.

"My brother really must be eager for his death." He smirked.

"It’s obviously a trap." Jericho said, "They’re probably trying to lure you out. They can’t break into the village, and want you in their territory where killing you would be easier."

Except he couldn’t be harmed, physically.

Angus lips curved in amusement, "Tomorrow then."