Chapter 34 Knox
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Knox
A bang on the door jolted us awake. I checked the time on my phone and groaned. Barely dawn. Who the hell showed up at someone’s house at this ungodly hour?
I threw on pants and crept upstairs, leaving Lina to burrow back under the covers. Noah’s house was quiet, the twins still asleep in my room where we’d left them. Through the living room window that hadn’t been damaged in the attack, I caught sight of a familiar black car parked in the driveway.
My blood turned to ice.
That car. That specific model, with the tinted windows and the subtle pack insignia on the license plate. Only two people in the world drove that exact vehicle.
I raced back downstairs, taking the steps three at a time.
“Get dressed. Now.”
Lina sat up immediately, alert despite the early hour. “What’s wrong?”
“My parents are here.”
Her face went pale. She’d heard enough stories about Marcus and Serena Raven to know this wasn’t a friendly family visit. “The ones who eat humans for breakfast?”
“They’re not that bad,” I lied through my teeth. They were worse. So much worse.
We threw on clothes in record time. Lina’s hands shook slightly as she pulled on jeans and one of my shirts. I wanted to tell her it would be fine, that my parents would love her, but I couldn’t lie to her. Not anymore.
By the time we made it upstairs, my parents had already let themselves in. Because of course they had. Locked doors were merely suggestions to Marcus and Serena Raven.
They stood in Noah’s living room as if they owned it, examining everything with the kind of critical assessment that had made grown wolves piss themselves.
My mother ran a finger along the mantel, checking for dust. My father studied the family photos Noah kept on the walls, his expression unreadable.
Marcus Raven looked exactly as he had for the last thirty years.
Tall, broad-shouldered, with the kind of presence that made alphas from other packs bow their heads.
His dark hair was perfectly styled despite the early hour, not a strand out of place.
The suit he wore probably cost more than most people’s cars.
Serena matched him in every way. Where other wolves aged, my mother seemed frozen in time, beautiful in the way a blade was beautiful. Her blonde hair fell in perfect waves, her makeup flawless even at dawn. She wore a cream-colored dress that managed to look both elegant and threatening.
“Hello,” I said awkwardly, not sure how to handle my parents appearing unannounced in Noah’s house.
They turned to face us with synchronized precision, and I fought the urge to step back.
“Knox,” my mother said coolly, her voice carrying the kind of authority that had shaped pack law for decades.
Before anyone could say more, the twins chose that moment to come down the stairs, rubbing sleepy eyes and dragging stuffed animals. They froze when they saw the strangers in their temporary home.
My parents’ gazes locked onto them with an intensity that made me step forward instinctively.
I watched emotions flicker across their carefully controlled faces.
Calculation first, always calculation. Then disgust as they registered the human blood.
Surprise at the clear resemblance to me.
And finally, buried deep, what might have been excitement.
“You’ve been keeping secrets,” my mother observed.
“Mother. Father.” I pulled Lina against my side, needing her close for what was about to happen. “This is Basilinna. My mate. And our children, Rowan and Thea.”
“A human,” my father stated. Not quite a question, more an observation of disappointing fact. The way he said it, you’d think I’d brought home a particularly intelligent houseplant.
“The mother of my heirs,” I corrected firmly, putting steel in my voice. I might be their son, but I was also an Alpha. My mate and children would be respected.
My mother tilted her head, studying Lina with the kind of focus she usually reserved for political opponents she was about to destroy.
“Winters. The bookshop family from Pine Valley. Both parents killed by rogues when she was fifteen. Raised by a human neighbor. No pack connections, no political value, no bloodline worth mentioning.”
Of course she’d already researched Lina. My mother never walked into a situation without knowing everything about everyone involved.
“Well,” she said, that calculating look I knew too well crossing her face. “This changes things, considering the rumors we’ve been hearing. Tell us about Mary’s pregnancy. Is it true?”
I shouldn’t have been surprised they already knew. Marcus and Serena Raven had information networks that would make government agencies weep with envy.
“The pregnancy may be real. The child isn’t mine,” I stated flatly. “I haven’t touched her.”
My father’s eyebrow rose in that way that used to make me confess to every childhood crime. “Yet you didn’t deny it publicly. Allowed the pack to believe you’d bred with Alderic’s daughter. Why?”
“Because she threatened my mate and children. I was buying time to prove the truth.”
“Buying time,” my mother repeated, tasting the words. “How... cautious of you. Not the approach Marcus would have taken.”
“I would have ripped out her throat the moment she lied,” my father said conversationally, as if discussing the weather. “Along with anyone who supported her claim.”
“Times have changed,” I said through gritted teeth. “We can’t just murder pack members who inconvenience us.”
“Can’t we?” My mother sounded genuinely puzzled. “How limiting.”
“Alderic has been pushing hard for this union,” she mused, switching topics with the fluid grace of a born manipulator. “First the marriage proposals every council meeting, now this convenient pregnancy. He’s never been this aggressive before.”
“You think they’re working together,” I said, the pieces falling into place.
My parents exchanged one of those looks that contained entire conversations. Fifty years of marriage had given them their own language.
“Alderic has always been ambitious,” my father said carefully. “But this seems... desperate.”
“The question is why,” my mother added. “What drives a man to push his daughter into a false pregnancy claim? What makes him risk everything on such a dangerous gambit?”
Thea, who’d been watching the conversation with wide eyes, suddenly tugged on my mother’s expensive skirt. Everyone froze. You didn’t touch Serena Raven without permission. People had lost hands for less.
“Are you Knox’s mama?” Thea asked, completely oblivious to the danger.
My mother looked down at the tiny girl with the expression of someone encountering an alien species. “I am.”
“You’re pretty,” Thea declared with the confidence only a four-year-old could manage. “Rowan, look! Daddy has a mama too!”
“Everyone has a mother,” Rowan said solemnly, but he was studying my parents with those too-smart eyes. “That’s how biology works.”
My father made a sound that might have been amusement. “Intelligent. Intelligence is crucial for survival.”
“Though sometimes inconvenient,” my mother murmured, still staring at Thea, who was now playing with the hem of her dress. “Pretty fabric,” Thea announced. “Soft.”
“It’s Italian silk,” my mother informed her. “Worth more than most cars.”
“Cool!” Thea beamed up at her. “Can I have a dress made of cars?”
I held my breath, waiting for my mother to verbally eviscerate my daughter for her nonsense. Instead, Serena’s lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile.
“That would be impractical. Cars are made of metal. Metal is not comfortable against skin.”
“Oh.” Thea considered this. “Can I have a dress like yours then?”
“Perhaps. If you prove yourself worthy.”
My father, apparently done with fashion discussions, moved toward the twins with the fluid grace of a predator. When he reached for Thea, presumably to examine her more closely, Rowan reacted.
“Don’t grab her,” the boy said firmly, and tiny claws extended from his fingertips, catching my father’s hand in warning scratches.
Everyone held their breath. Marcus Raven looked down at the thin lines of blood on his hand, then at the small boy who’d dared to harm him. The silence stretched taut.
Then my father smiled. Not his political smile or his threatening smile, but a genuine expression of approval.
“Strong. Protective instincts.” He examined the scratches with interest. “Clean cuts. Excellent control for one so young. Perhaps we’ve underestimated the advantages of hybrid vigor.”
“These children,” my mother said thoughtfully, her academic tone emerging, “they shifted young?”
“Partial shifts only,” I confirmed. “But yes. Exceptionally young. Before their third birthday.”
“Fascinating.” She circled the twins slowly, examining them from every angle. “Human genetics strengthening rather than diluting. The scientific community will want to study-”
“No.” Lina’s voice cut through the room with surprising force. “No studying. They’re children, not experiments.”
I braced for my mother’s wrath. Nobody interrupted Serena Raven. Nobody told her no. I’d seen her destroy careers for less disrespect.
But my mother merely tilted her head, reassessing. “They’ll need that protective instinct. The world is not kind to those who are different.”
“They’re perfect exactly as they are,” Lina said, pulling both twins against her protectively.
“I didn’t say they weren’t,” my mother replied mildly. “Difference is not weakness. Often, it’s the opposite. These children represent evolution. The next step forward for our species.”
Marcus was still examining his scratched hand with pride. “The boy didn’t hesitate. Saw a threat to his sister and acted. That’s Alpha behavior. He assessed, decided, and struck in under two seconds.”
“Of course it is,” Lina said, and there was pride in her voice now. “They’re Ravens.”
The way she said our family name, possessive and proud, made warmth bloom in my chest. My parents noticed too. Another of those meaningful looks passed between them.
“You consider them Ravens,” my mother observed. “Despite everything. Despite Knox abandoning you. Despite raising them alone.”
“They’re his children,” Lina said simply. “That makes them Ravens. Nothing changes that.”
“Interesting.” My mother’s smile was calculating now. “Very interesting.”
“We need to handle the situation with Mary carefully,” my father said, shifting the conversation to strategy with practiced ease. “If Alderic is involved as we suspect, this goes deeper than a simple pregnancy lie.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, though I was starting to suspect.
“Think, son.” My father’s voice took on the teaching tone I remembered from childhood. “Why now? Why push so hard? What does Alderic gain from weakening your position?”
The implications hit me in waves. “He wants the Alpha position.”
“Obviously,” my mother said. “But why now? He’s been on the council for twenty years. Always ambitious but never stupid enough to move directly. What changed?”
“His daughter’s approaching thirty,” I said slowly. “If she doesn’t mate soon...”
“She’ll be considered unviable,” my father finished. “Past prime breeding age by traditional standards. Her value as a political asset diminishes significantly.”
“So he’s desperate,” I concluded. “Running out of time to secure power through her.”
“Desperate men make mistakes,” my mother observed. “They overreach. They leave evidence.”
“The question becomes,” my father said, “who else is involved? Alderic’s not stupid enough to move alone. He has allies. Possibly other council members who see an opportunity.”
“We’ll need proof,” my mother said. “Of the child’s parentage. Of their conspiracy. Hard evidence that can’t be disputed or dismissed.”
“Leave that to us,” my father said, and his smile was all predator now. “Your mother and I have extensive experience in uncovering secrets. And destroying those who threaten our family.”
“You’re going to help?” I couldn’t hide my surprise. My parents rarely involved themselves in pack politics anymore, preferring to rule from the shadows.
“Of course,” my mother said, as if it should be obvious.
“You’re our son. These are our grandchildren.
Even if they’re half-human, we cannot allow such disrespect to stand.
If we let Alderic and his daughter threaten our family without consequence, others will follow.
They’ll see weakness where there is none. ”
“The pack must be reminded,” my father added, “why the Raven name has commanded respect for generations. We eliminate threats. We protect our own. And we do not tolerate challenges to our authority.”
“Besides,” he continued, still admiring the scratches Rowan had given him, “it’s been too long since we had a proper hunt.”