Bonds

-Maya's POV-

The roar of the engine was a dull thrum against the deafening words in my head. Images flashed behind my eyelids - Alex's enraged face, the glowing red of his wolf's eyes, the chilling finality in his voice as he threatened my father's life. Each horrifying detail replayed on a loop, squeezing the air from my lungs.

Ivan drove in a tense silence, his jaw clenched tight, knuckles white on the steering wheel, My attempts to process the events of the evening felt futile. It was like trying to grasp smoke - the conversation with Alex had devolved into a chaotic mess.

"It'll be okay," Ivan let through a breath, his voice low and gruff. But the words rang hollow, offering little comfort in the face of the impending storm.

I scoffed, a humorless sound escaping my lips. "Okay? How can you possibly say that will be okay? He threatened to kill my father!"

I mean I was the last person who cared about him at this very moment but that didn't mean I would be happy to see Alex kill him. Well maybe yes it would be nice to not have to deal with him permanently but this was not how I want it to happen.

He sighed, a heavy sound that spoke volumes of his own internal turmoil. "He's angry. Right now, logic isn't exactly his strong suit. But once he cools down I'm sure

"He won't cool down, Ivan," I interrupted, my voice rising a notch. "Don't you see? He's gone too far. He's consumed by rage."

A muscle ticked in his jaw. "Maybe. But we can't give up hope. We need to find a way to reason with him."

"How?" I challenged, my voice laced with despair. "We tried talking, and it got us nowhere. He doesn't care about the consequences, about the potential bloodshed. He's lost sight of everything except his desire to make my father pay."

Silence descended again, heavy and suffocating. The car sped down the deserted highway, the headlights cutting through the inky blackness like a knife. My gaze drifted to the passing landscape, a blur of trees and telephone poles, but I saw nothing. My mind was a warzone, replaying the conversation with Alex over and over again.

"I've seen that look on his face before," I whispered, the memory sending a fresh wave of chills down my spine. "Right before he threw me out. That cold, emotionless mask, the eyes devoid of any warmth. He's the same way now, consumed by a single purpose."

Ivan finally turned his head towards me, his brow furrowed in concern, "What do you mean?"

I hesitated, unsure if I wanted to relive the pain of that night. But the weight of the situation demanded honesty. "He came home, didn't say anything, just threw divorce papers in my face. And for a moment, I saw a stranger staring back at me. It was like the Alex I knew, the one I cared about, had just... disappeared."

A flicker of pain crossed Ivan's face, a fleeting emotion quickly masked by a stoic demeanor. I knew it must hurt him fearing about us and I really wish I didn't have to.

"He was angry," he whispered softly. "We all say things we don't mean in the heat of the moment."

"Maybe," I conceded, the memory still raw. "But that night, it felt different. It felt like a wall had gone up between us, a wall that I couldn't tear down. And now, seeing him again... he doesn't care, it's like an off humanity switch."

Ivan reached out and squeezed my hand gently. The gesture, small as it was, offered a much-needed anchor in the storm even though I Chapter 60

couldn't imagine how it felt for him with me talking about this. "We'll figure this out, Amaya. Together. There has to be a way to stop him.

"What if there isn't?" The question hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of the precarious situation we were in. "What if he's truly lost himself in this quest for vengeance? What happens then?"

Ivan didn't answer for a long moment, the silence stretching between us like a taut rope. When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with a weariness that mirrored my own.

"Then we do what we have to," he said finally, "We protect our pack. We protect our families. Even if it means..." He trailed off, the unspoken words hanging heavy in the air.

Even if it meant fighting against Alex. The thought was a bitter pill to swallow. But the image of his rage-filled face, the chilling threat hanging in the air, chipped away at my loyalty.

"I can't believe it's come to this," I murmured, the words catching in my throat. "It feels so... wrong."

"It is," Ivan agreed, his voice heavy with regret. "But sometimes, the right thing isn't always the easiest thing. There are sacrifices to be made, lines that have to be crossed."

My stomach churned with a cocktail of emotions-fear, anger, and a deep, gnawing sense of betrayal. I shouldn't feel this way. Everything that had gone wrong was because of him so why didn't it feel like I was betraying him still, "There has to be another way. We can't just go to war. Too many lives will be lost, human and werewolf alike."

"I know. That's why we need to come up with a plan. We need to find a way to stop Alex before things get out of control"

A tense silence settled between us once more. The rhythmic hum of the engine was the only sound that broke the stillness. My mind raced, searching for a solution, any solution, that could avert the impending disaster. The weight of the situation threatened to crush me, and a wave of nausea washed over me. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to shut out the overwhelming dread.

Suddenly, the quiet was shattered by the sharp ring of Ivan's phone. He fumbled for it in his pocket, his face grim even before he saw the caller ID. With a deep breath, he answered, his voice tight. "Hello?"

A tense silence followed, broken only by murmurs on the other end. Ivan's face drained of color, his jaw clenching with each passing second. He listened intently, his body rigid with unspoken fear, Finally, he managed a strangled, "Okay, we'll be there soon."

He ended the call with a trembling hand, his eyes filled with a haunted emptiness. The phone clattered to the console, a hollow sound that echoed in the stillness.

"What happened?"

He let out a tired sigh, "There was an explosion.".

My breath hitched. "Another explosion?" Where? Is everyone okay?"

"It was... outside your, father's company."

My blood ran cold. "My father's company?"

"His car... They said it blew up. He was in it."

The world seemed to tilt on its axis. The air whooshed out of my lungs, leaving me breathless then a horrifying scream ripped from that tore through the confines of the car. Tears streamed down my face in a relentless torrent, blurring my vision into a watery mess. "No!" I my throat

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shrieked again, my voice raw with a pain so profound it felt like it would shatter me.

Ivan reacted instantly, his grip tightening on my hand. "Amaya, calm down."

But his words were like whispers lost in a hurricane. My father. Dead. The thought hammered against my skull, a relentless assault that threatened t to-consume me. He wasn't a good man, that much was clear. But he was still my father, fact that resonated within me with a force I hadn't anticipated. The anger I'd harbored for him, the resentment, it all paled In comparison to the crushing weight of grief that

threatened to drown me.

"Take me there, Ivan," I rasped, my voice hoarse from screaming. "Now!"

I hated him, sure, but I never wished for him to be gone. Maybe he could have just told me he hated me, it would have been easier to swallow than this.

He didn't argue. He whipped the car around in a tight turn, the screech of tires a harsh counterpoint to the silent scream tearing through me. With every passing second, the image of my father, lifeless grew more vivid in my mind.

The closer we got, the brighter the scene became. Flashing red and blue lights cut through the darkness.m painting the street in an eerie glow. A crowd had gathered, their faces illuminated by the harsh glare of news cameras. Yellow police tape cordoned off the area, but even from a distance, the devastation was clear.

The car screeched to a halt, and I was out the door before it even came to a complete stop. Ignoring Ivan's frantic calls, I weaved through the bewildered crowd, my eyes fixed on the center of the scene.Content is © by NôvelDrama.Org.

Gasping for air, my feet finally came to a halt. There, sprawled on a scorched patch of asphalt, I saw his burnt body laying on the stretcher. My stomach lurched, and a strangled sob escaped my lips. My feet were rooted and I stopped moving trying to listen, drown out my fear. I

listened with my wolf senses but there was nothing. No heartbeat.

My father was dead.