Voice muffled by his hands, Alexander asked us for the good news first.

“If, and only if, Dylan will allow it, I can purge the Wrath influence from him. But..”

“The bad news I take it?” Alexander lifted his head high enough to look me directly in the eyes.

“It’s… unusual for the person targeted by Satan or one of his demons to be so calm, once possessed they would enter a berserker rage and destroy everything they can.” I shook my head, “He’s too… conscious of his actions. Too aware. I believe that another attempt will be made.”

“By another attempt? You mean at killing me?” Alexander rubbed his face before sighing in resignation.

I just nodded in agreement. We sat and watched as he leant back in his chair and tapped his fingers against the desk. He appeared to be mulling something over in his mind as Wyatt appeared dejected next to him. Taking a moment to look around the office from my seat, I noticed a letter on the desk that had a familiar handwriting on it. Try as I might, I couldn’t place it though.

Clay, ask Hawk if he recognises who wrote that letter. The one of the far side of the desk.

Waiting for Clay to return Hawk’s answer, I continued my visual search of the office. I was missing something important, but I couldn’t put my finger on what. Just then, Clay’s voice came through surprised.

Hawk says it’s Dad’s handwriting.

I couldn’t help myself from turning to face him in surprise.

Clay, I think I’ve got a good idea of why Alexander doesn’t like angels. Ask Hawk to take a look at the picture frame on the left side of the office with the couple in it standing either side of a child.

Will do. Clay’s voice echoed through my mind with unveiled curiosity.

Hawk standing up to take a better look at the picture frame was met with suspicion from the two shifters who had focused all their attention on us. After taking a brief look at the picture, Hawk’s eyes went unfocused as he searched through his ‘mental library’. Snapping back to reality a minute later, Hawk replaced the picture frame and sat back down in his chair studiously ignoring the glares from the shifters opposite us.

Hawk says they are victims of Theodore Nimbasa, survived by their only child. The previous Leo and his mate.

Let me guess, the child was called Alexander?

Right in one.

Turning back to face both Alexander and Wyatt, I glanced quickly to the letter from my father. It was a condolence letter that my dad sent out to every surviving family member of the Nimbasa Massacre every year. Not wanting to pry further into Alexander’s private life, I decided to change the topic. Although, I felt that this may have something to do with whatever was happening at the moment.

“Wyatt, you mentioned earlier a decision that Alexander made that Dylan opposed. What was that decision?”

“The decision that I made,” Alexander’s emphasis on the word I brought my attention back to him, “was to abolish an old mating law.”

I merely stared at him until he sighed and continued.

“Generations ago, a mating law was set to counteract the small number of female shifters. If a male shifter could place a claiming brand on a female they were deemed mated and that was that, consent or not. Upon becoming Leo, I decided that law was outdated and archaic, our numbers are much more equal and I wanted the women to have more of a choice in their mates. Anyone placing a claiming brand without the consent of their partner will be banished from this pack permanently.”

“And your son was against this?” My tone was incredulous as I could hear distant laughs in my mind, taunting me that I’d be someone’s prize mate.

“Much to mine and his mother’s shame, yes.”

“Did anyone else oppose this?”

“Dylan did gather a few more vocal shifters that felt the same way, I’m sure there are more that firmly believe the old way is the best. It’s a common thing amongst shifters to deny change.”

Blowing out a breath, I sat back against my chair. Try as I could, I was unable to stop the sadistic laughs and burning sensation down my side as my memories battled against my attempt to stay in the present. I felt myself clutching my left side as my breathes came faster and faster. A small part of my mind realised that I was having a panic attack. That was my last conscious thought as I fell off the chair I was sat on to the shouts of my brothers as I fell victim once more to the memories.