CHAPTER 16: _ VILLAIN AGAIN

"Pretend. That was the deal, Lira."

Lira’s lips part in fake innocence. "Well, forgive me for improvising. You know how I love to give a good performance."

A muscle ticks in his jaw. He steps closer, towering over her now. Vark paces in anger,, claws scratching to the surface.

"I’m not playing with you," Amias growls under his breath. "You think you can throw out a wedding announcement like you’re tossing confetti?"

Lira doesn’t shrink as she never does. That’s part of her danger. She tilts her chin defiantly. "Then stop pretending you’re not going to marry me. Stop acting like you have a choice, Amias. Because we both know you don’t."

Her words hit him like the Alpha himself is landing a punch on his face, leaving a raw welt of truth. No choice. That’s what it all boiled down to, wasn’t it? The illusion of freedom in a cage.

The silence between Amias and Lira sizzles with hostility. She’s still holding his arm, clutching it like her presence might erase the bomb she just dropped.

"You’re being dramatic," she says.

"And you’re stupid, Lira," Amias snaps, stepping back and forcing her grip to slip. "You think you can just toss around words like marriage in front of my father like they don’t come with chains?"

Her mouth flattens, but her voice stays calm. "You’re overreacting. You always do."

He laughs, but it’s hollow. "Overreacting? You’ve just offered me on a silver platter to the man who already has a leash around my neck!"

"You didn’t object."

"Oh, for fu—"

"... Language," she interjects with a pointed glare.

That confidence of hers... That power because she knows... She knows she is right. He’s trapped. She’s the only reason why he matters in his own home. Without Lira, Amias, he’s... Nothing.

He’s ready to sniff it and put on his big boy pants as always when a voice suddenly interrupts their conversation. "If you two don’t shut up, Grayson and Morgan are going to hear you."

They both freeze, scared down to their bones. This deal they’ve cut—it not only helps Amias, but Lira too.

Darien stands by the car, arms crossed over his chest, school blazer hanging off his shoulder like he hasn’t a care in the world. But his eyes... those eyes are sharp as razors, and trained straight on them.

"You know they’d sell your secret faster than they sell their bullshit," Darien adds, stepping forward. "So unless you want them to know you and Lira are faking it..."

Why, that son of a bitch! Amias jumps on him before the sentence finishes.

He doesn’t think twice about it. He storms across the courtyard, grabs Darien by the collar, and slams him against the passenger side door with a bang loud enough to startle birds out of the hedges.

"You were spying?" Amias growls, choking Darien against the vehicle, his knuckles whitening around the fabric.

"What about you, huh? You wouldn’t hesitate to use it, would you? You’d love the chance to play golden boy again!"

"Amias...!" Lira screams.

However, Darien doesn’t struggle despite Amias’s rage. His breathing stays calm, controlled, even as Amias’s grip tightens around his neck. "I said it to help you, not ruin you."

His words only pour gasoline into the fire.

Amias’s hatred makes him lose his mind. The corners of his vision redden. Of course, Darien would say that. Always reasonable and perfect. The "good son." The "polite one." The one the staff call Señorito Darien with a smile instead of fear.

Meanwhile, Amias is the reminder of betrayal and scandal. The whisper behind closed doors. The son of the woman who humiliated the Alpha. His very existence is an asterisk in this house.

"Don’t you dare talk to me like we’re the same," Amias snarls, dragging Darien who doesn’t fight back off the car only to slam him again. "You’re not better than me!"

"Amias, stop it!" Lira begs, pulling at his sleeve. "You’re going to kill him!"

And then...

"What’s going on here?!" The voice is not loud, but it is final.

They all come to a standstill immediately. Even Amias’s rage screeches to a halt as he turns and sees Darien’s mother. She’s standing on the front steps, holding a small paper bag and watching them with calm but unfazed eyes.

Amias lets go abruptly, and Darien coughs, fixing his collar like this is just another Tuesday.

Her name is Inés.

She is the Alpha’s second wife. The most dignified. The least scandalous. The only woman in this house who never needed to raise her voice to command attention. Rumors say the Alpha still listens to her more than his first Luna or his new flame. Rumors say the other wives hate her for it.

Where the third wife is all charm and public affection, Inés is a glacier in silk. She’s composed and impossibly graceful. Her three daughters and Darien carry that same steadiness in their blood, like they were born in the eye of a storm.

She walks toward them now, her heels tapping softly on the marble as if even the ground must behave under her. She does not look at her son first. She looks at Amias.

"You’re angry," she says plainly. "I understand that."

The air burns in Amias’s lungs at the sound of her voice.

"But violence isn’t strength," she continues, tone cool but never cruel. "You are brothers. And I have told my children this since they were small; what you do to each other, you do to yourselves."

Amias wants to yell and ask her where this wisdom was when her precious son stood watching with judgment in his eyes.

But he says nothing. Because she’s already doing what she does best. She and her perfect son. Behind her, they’re gathering as always.

Servants peer from the windows. The butler is at the door, pretending to dust the railing. Grayson and Morgan stride out with perfect timing, laughing until they see the scene and exchange smirks.

The Alpha and their mother follow last, arms linked like they were attending a garden party instead of an escalating family implosion. Amias can feel it happening again.

He’s the villain. Again.