Page 2 of Oathbreaker

I know better.

Father holds the camera up to his face, turning it in the dim morning light as if it were a jewel he wanted to assess for purity.

“And you, Johan,” Father says, not looking at the man who has been his butler for as long as I’ve been alive. “What could they have given you that would make you turn on me like this?” He shifts, leaning so his face is nearly level with Johan’s.

The butler doesn’t say a word.

Father paces again, tossing the camera in his hands like a hacky sack. He’s silent for almost a full minute, walking over to Leo’s father, before he stops. His abrupt movement causes sand to kick up at his heels.

“If you hadn’t tried to spy on Miguel here,” Father taps Mr. Polanco’s shoulder. “I would have never known. How can you sleep at night knowing this?”

Father rolls his eyes heavenward as if praying for understanding. “So now, here we are,” he says with a long, drawn-out sigh. “I can’t let a betrayal go unpunished. Surely you understand.” Father looks at each of the men one by one as if he were explaining why he couldn’t give them a raise rather than discussing their deaths.

He sighs again. “Any last words from any of you?”

The men are silent.

“Very well,” Father says again. He looks at Alistair, then to one of his guards, who steps forward to pull a gun out of his holster. My heart jumps in my chest and dread triples in my stomach.

I look at Leo. I can’t tell a thing from his expression, and he’s so still he might as well be a statue.

“Wait,” Father says, and I swing my head back to him. “Hunter. You’ll do it.”

He waves a hand at the guard again, and the beefy man walks over to me, slapping the pistol in my palm.

I would have dropped it if he hadn’t curled my fingers around the handle.

“W-What?” I say, speaking for the first time in many hours.

Father’s eyebrows drop, his face looking severe for the first time in this entire process.

“Hunter,” he says sharply, all patience and calm removed from his tone.

I swallow.

“F-Father, I?—”

“Get your pussy ass over here now, Hunter!” he hisses. I stare at him and feel like I’m going to throw up or scream or pass out. He can’t possibly mean....

Father emits a low, frustrated growl, and when his eyes move from me to the guard next to me, I jump into action. I don’t feel like being manhandled or beaten today.

Not today.

“Good,” Father says, his face clearing once I’m next to him. “Hunter, these men here had the intention of betraying us. Betraying our family. Do you know why that is, Hunter?”

I shake my head, not daring to look at the men. I stare at my father’s face.

“It’s because they think they’re better than us, Hunter.” Father laughs, and the sound is so loud my ears ring.

“They think that we’re bad and they’re good. But the reality is—there’s no such thing as good or evil. There’s just existing. Living. Living life to the fullest. It’s nature. Some are meant to be predators. Some are meant to be prey.” He leans down so he is level with my eyes. When the winter semester started, I had a growth spurt, going from five-foot-three to almost five-nine. Still, my father towers over me.

“We have been given much, Hunter. This is true,” he says, as if embarrassed. “But it’s our responsibility to ensure that what we have stays with us. If we didn’t, what would we be saying to The Architect of all that is?” He grips my shoulder when I don’t respond for a moment, and I nod my head in affirmation.

“To protect our family, we must eliminate any threats. This is your first lesson, son. You will exterminate these threats,” he says, swinging his arm out to indicate all the men kneeling.

“You want me to...” I whisper, hoping to avoid embarrassing or angering him with my questions.

His hand tightens on my shoulder anyway.

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