CHAPTER 628: VISIT MY BROTHER

Duskmoon Hollow

There was nothing but silence, the advisors looking at Angus for an answer.

Angus finally spoke. "Those are just pups. They don’t hold a candle to me."

"Four powerful pups," Ziva muttered.

"I’m powerful too."

"But you’re just one. There’s strength in numbers,"

Of course, while Ziva appeared concerned for her father, the truth remained she only wanted a reason to get rid of Violet.

Angus looked at her, his tone calm but firm. "I understand your concern, but I cannot make a move against them. They’re mated to Violet, at least three of them are. And if you’ve ever experienced the loss of a mate..." There was emotion in Angus’s voice now, as if he were speaking from experience.

"...it’s enough to make one lose their mind. If I’m going to use Violet, I need her mind intact. Not to mention, this bond is necessary. The only way to control this powerful daughter of mine is through her mates."

At last, Angus revealed why he wasn’t bothered about Violet’s growing powers.

Unlike the advisors, who were clearly impressed with his reasoning, Ziva felt completely defeated. No matter how much she fought, Violet was too damn lucky.

Angus, of course, wasn’t blind to Ziva’s intent. He admired her ruthlessness, but her emotions often clouded her judgment. Still, she was useful, and for now, she’d do just fine.

Angus instructed, "Jericho, gather the witches. Have them locate Patrick and place a cloaking spell on him."

"Of course, Your Majesty," Jericho replied with a respectful bow.

Angus straightened. "That will be all for now. You may leave."

One by one, the advisors filed out of the room, even Ziva.

"Not you, Ziva. I need you here."

Ziva halted immediately. Under normal circumstances, her father’s summons would have filled her with pride. But tonight, she had been nothing but humiliated since the meeting began.

Once the others left, Angus turned to face his daughter, who stood with her hands clasped behind her back, her expression unreadable.

"What do you need, Father?" Her voice carried a sharp edge.

Angus lifted a brow at her tone. Women and their need for drama. Still, he needed her, and he could indulge her when necessary. Besides, she wasn’t entirely unbearable; she could be... entertaining.

"You’re angry," he observed.

"Am I? I didn’t realize my emotions mattered since my opinions clearly don’t."

"Ahh," he murmured, smirking. "So that’s the problem. Fine, Daddy’s sorry. Is that okay?"

Ziva tried to hold onto her anger, but the apology—rare as it was—disarmed her.

"Fine," she muttered, reluctant but appeased.

"Come here," Angus said, spreading his arms. She stepped into his embrace without hesitation.

"Daddy’s sweet girl," Angus whispered, smiling as he lifted her chin and brushed his lips against hers. But Ziva wasn’t satisfied with that. She wanted more—more reassurance, more possession—and threw her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss.

Yes. This was it. Angus was hers and hers alone.

When they finally pulled apart, Angus smiled. "Since you felt neglected in the meeting," he began, voice smooth and calculated, "I was hoping you’d do me a little favor."

Ziva’s eyes gleamed. "Of course, Father. Anything you want." She clasped his hands eagerly, her excitement palpable.

"I want to pay my brother a visit," Angus said, his tone low. "A dream visit. I’ll need you to perform the spell."

"Of course. I’ll call my sisters, Lauren and Layla. They’ll lend their strength, and we’ll begin the spell tonight."

"Good," Angus said, satisfied. "I’ll be waiting."

Ziva ran out of the room to get things started.

Moments later, Angus was lying on his bed while Lauren, Layla, and of course Ziva stood over him. The eldest sister held a small bowl filled with a strange dark paste. She dipped her fingers into it and smeared the mixture across Angus’s forehead, drawing a crooked symbol while muttering a string of incantations under her breath.

"You should sleep now, Father," Ziva whispered.

Angus obeyed, his eyes fluttering shut without hesitation.

Layla frowned as she watched. The nerve of that bitch to ask for their help as if she hadn’t physically assaulted her just hours ago. Layla resented her sister with every fiber of her being, but defying their father was out of the question.

Once Angus’s breathing steadied, Ziva dropped the bowl and reached for a small dagger. The metal glinted sharply under the dim light.

"Hand," she ordered.

Layla hesitated but stretched hers out first. Ziva sliced her palm without mercy, drawing blood. Layla cursed under her breath, but Ziva had already moved on to Lauren, who winced as the blade grazed her skin.

Finally, Ziva cut her own palm, showing no sign of pain as she pressed her bleeding hand against her sisters’. Their blood mingled, staining the sheets.

Together, they began to chant, once, twice, three times. By the fourth, the strain began to show. Cold sweat clung to the twins’ foreheads, their complexion sickly. Dream-walking was not for the faint of heart; it demanded focus, and endurance.

There were witches who specialized in it, but Angus trusted none of them, not when a single misstep could trap him in the dream realm or fracture his mind completely.

By the sixth chant, their legs trembled, threatening to buckle.

And then, on the seventh, their breath caught as one. All three gasped as their eyes glazed over while Angus’s body jerked once before going still, his spirit now crossing into the world of dreams.

---

Meanwhile...

Elijah paced his office, tension etched deep into his brow.

What was he supposed to do now? He was going mad trying to come up with a solution. Where in the Goddess’s name had those kids gone?

"Your Majesty," Christian entered, interrupting his thoughts.

"Yes, Christian?" Elijah asked, his tone clipped with impatience. "Any progress?"

"Not exactly, Your Majesty," Christian said carefully, "but I’ve made a discovery."

Elijah paused. "A discovery?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"And what kind of discovery would that be?" Elijah’s patience was thinning by the second.

"They tried to suppress the information," Christian explained, "but according to one of the assassins arrested after the rebellion, a portal appeared in the middle of the battle, the next, Asher and Roman were gone."