CHAPTER 601: -CHAPTER 601-

Clint Ryder stepped out of his car, his expression guarded as he stared up at the intimidating structure of the High Council Headquarters.

There were already individuals in all black waiting to receive him, their eyes were obscured by black shades, their communication devices plain to see.

He simply ignored them, walking forward without waiting for their guidance. The High Council Headquarters was more familiar to him than it would ever be to any of them.

Despite the fact that he didn’t do so much as acknowledge his presence, they kept close to him, providing a shield of sorts with their bodies.

He walked right on to the top floor, unfettered, right up to the office of the most important person in the entire building. The head of the High Council.

He opened the door without knocking, the men tailing him wisely keeping their distance now.

Familiar pale blue eyes stared up at him, amusement swirling in those depths as Alpha Eaton, head of the High Council, took him in.

"I didn’t think you would show."

Clint didn’t share his amusement, walking into the office and inviting himself to take a seat. "You called for me." He reminded the other, pointing out the undeniable fact that he hadn’t taken the initiative to come here on his own.

Eaton poured out drinks from a decanter, pushing the glass across the table to the younger Alpha seated across from him. "And I thought you would rather remain in that small town, playing charades."

Clint clenched his jaw, but he didn’t take the bait, "Why did you call me over?"

"So eager to leave?" Eaton tutted, taking a sip of his drink without caring if Clint did the same. "I’m hurt."

"Cut to the chase." Clint bit out.

"There’s no running from your heritage," Eaton said with a smile, like they were having a pleasant conversation.

When Clint didn’t reply to that, he went on. "Not to mention, you haven’t seen your older brother in years, don’t you care how I’ve fared?"

Clint gave him a perfunctory once-over, "You look fine to me."

"How long do you intend to remain in Haines?" Eaton stopped beating around the bush, pale blue eyes sharp.

"I don’t remember having to report to you." Clint leaned back in his seat, his arms crossed defensively.

Eaton sighed, but the mildly frustrated expression didn’t touch his eyes. "Mother has been dead for years, I don’t understand your obsession with that barbaric city."

Clint clammed up again, aware that his brother didn’t just call him over because he was worried about him. Eaton was prying for something, but he couldn’t figure out what, and it made him antsy.

"I’m sure you’re aware of the hostilities between the High Council and the Mafia Kings running Haines." Eaton changed the topic of conversation when he realized that nothing was getting through to his hardheaded younger brother.

Clint had always been a wildcard. At first, it was a worry because it meant potential competition. But his younger brother had been quick to put him straight on his disinterest in the running of the High Council.

Eaton didn’t want that either, with the two of them working together, they could increase the range of their influence and power. He was self-assured enough to admit that Clint was the smarter of the two of them, it made getting in his brother’s good graces all the more difficult.

"That has nothing to do with me." Clint stated bluntly.

He had left behind his lineage as one of the most powerful Alphas to walk the Earth while he was a teenager to build his wealth out of practically nothing. Content to linger in the city where his mom was born.

"And when the High Council takes over Haines?" Eaton prompted.

No matter how hard Clint tried to distance himself, he couldn’t remain on the fence forever.

Clint tilted his head, "The High Council? Or you?" He asked coldly, quickly running out of patience.

Eaton was unfazed, "As the head of the High Council, naturally, it’s both." He said calmly, refilling his glass.

Clint scoffed, "A little obsessed, are we? Can’t stand that Haines’ blood runs through your veins?"

For the first time, there was a crack in Eaton’s perfect facade, his benevolent smile darkening. "There’s no reason to hit low, brother. I simply wanted to offer a green branch."

Clint’s pale blue eyes were wary as he waited for his older brother to get to the point, having a feeling that he would like his next words way less than everything that had already been said.

"When the High Council reclaims Haines under its authority, how about you become the Alpha?"

Clint wore a look of pure disdain at the suggestion; he didn’t say it, but his stance on the matter was clear. He wanted things to remain as they were.

"Not a fucking chance." He bit out, shooting to his feet.

Now that Eaton had gotten out the crap he dragged him all the way over here for, Clint had no plans to linger.

Eaton wasn’t at all surprised by this reaction, his calm demeanor back in place. "Very well." He backed off, making no move to try to persuade his brother.

Piercing pale blue eyes were sharp as he stared up at the younger Alpha, who was about to leave. "But..." He spoke up, making Clint pause. "Don’t forget your bloodline, Clint. A betrayal would really hurt." His regretful words and the smile on his face were at odds with each other.

Clint remained unwavering, walking out without so much as a backward glance at his older brother.

Eaton was much older than him, so they were never close to begin with, but not that much older, barely a decade. Yet his older brother’s hair already had several streaks of silver in his black hair.

Save for their differing opinions, there was little ill-will between them. Clint had tried endlessly to get his older brother to give up on taking over Haines, but Eaton had remained immovable on the matter.

Clint thought back to the veiled threat he had gotten from his brother as he made his way across the parking lot. He had never once thought of interfering.

Losing control of Haines didn’t necessarily mean that the Mafia Kings had to die, they would just be unseated from power. Either outcome had very limited impact on him, but he really...

He really wanted to preserve his mom’s memory, she had never belonged to a Pack, and neither had her parents and grandparents before her. He really wanted to keep things that way.