Kaelan slammed the car door shut, the echo cracking through the garage.
His chest rose and fell in rapid bursts, rage twisting every breath. He turned the key, engine roaring to life, and without hesitation pressed his foot hard to the accelerator.
The tires screeched, the vehicle shot forward, and the evening swallowed him whole.
His knuckles blanched white around the steering wheel, veins bulging, sweat dampening his temples. The memory returned, sharp and unbearable... Alaric's voice in the room, deep and careless.
"Our pup, Tazira… what we can do to make him happy."
His own chest constricted, fury boiling. That wasn't Alaric's child, that was his... his blood and life!
The wheel shook below his grip as he slammed his palm into it. Once. Twice. Then again and again until the sting burned into his skin.
"You bastard!" he growled, voice breaking through the hum of the engine. "Talking about my son, planning his life like you own him. Like you… earned him."
