Page 110 of Dark Angel

Robert finally does. His body is pushed backwards, and he loses his footing. Charles is advancing on him quickly, bringing his dagger up behind him. The older man’s face wrinkles as he defends his son’s movement.

Slice. Swipe. Twirl. Stab.

Charles continues advancing until his father is pressed against the stone wall, his murky eyes flaring as he pins his dagger against this father’s throat. “Your strength and precision has most definitely improved.” Robert says, sounding impressed.

His son flashes a half-smile before stepping back and allowing his father to catch his breath once again.

“And you’re becoming faster with your movements.” Robert places his blade back in its spot on the wall. “How is courting coming along?”

Charles groans softly, “Just drop it, father. I haven’t had time yet.”

His father slices him a glare. “All leaders need a wife. For support, and you’ll be busy with work, so she will need to take care of your home. Why not Miss Hamilton?”

“She dismissed me when I first offered. Despite the fact that they’re running dry with money, and I offered to help her out.”

“Did you offer money to Clarence in exchange for his sister’s marriage?”

Charles shakes his head slowly. “She turned me down. I don’t think going to her brother will help.”

“You don’t let her walk all over you, Charles. If you want to take her as your wife, then you tell her. Men run this country, not women.”

He stares at his dad. “She’ll just despise me more than she already does.”

“So?”

Charles gawks, “I don’t want my wife to despise me. What is the point of the marriage then?”

“It’s a partnership. A business move. It doesn’t need feelings or love attached to it. That doesn’t exist. It’s a lie people say to make themselves feel better.”

Charles swallows, not believing what’s coming out of his father’s mouth right now.

“Think about it, Charles. With the rise of this Dark Angel coming, the Ascendancy will be watching your every move. We have your abilities heightened. Now all that’s left is your marital situation.” Robert scratches his face. “Come on, we need to finish up so we can begin collecting some more pints for Emmett.”

“No.” Lucy’s harsh voice floats through the doorway.

Both their faces snap up to hers, but she’s entirely focused on her husband. Arms crossed in front and jaw locked, she stalks towards them in her simple, mundane outfit.

“I cannot believe you, Robert. That’s our son! You cannot tell him how to run his life.” Lucy’s tone sharp, like a knife.

“I am teaching him how to become a leader. That’s more than what you’ve done.”

Lucy rears back slightly. Eyes simmering with rage. “I know about your deal with the blood.” Robert scowls and Charles winces. “You aren’t very secretive. I heard you at the manor. How dare you do this just to have our son chosen? Do you know how ridiculous your plan is? Someone will find out and then you will both be in trouble.”

Robert glowers at her. “You will not breathe a word of this, Lucy.”

“I won’t because I care for our son, and I don’t want him shunned by the whole Ascendancy. But you, Robert. I thought you would have been smarter about this. Selling off Seraphim blood in the market?”

Robert chuckles loudly, “You don’t know me, Lucy.” He saunters up to her until they’re face to face. He can tell by the terseness of her features that she’s fuming. “I care about getting our son that role. I want him to replace me, and I won’t give anyone a reason not to choose him!”

“That doesn’t make this right! The power has gone to your head. You’re going to ruin everything just for your son to be chosen to replace you…”

“Shut up!” Robert yells at her.

Charles sees Lucy’s face slacken, her throat bobbing anxiously. He’s never seen them fight before, but he’s heard them through the walls of his quarters late at night when they thought he was sleeping.

Robert shifts his position on his feet. “I don’t care what you think about this situation. It’s men’s business. Your job is to stay at the manor and make sure everything is clean and tidy and in order. Stay out of this, Lucy, or I swear on the Angels, I will leave you to rot in the gutter.”

She gulps again, words caught in her burning throat.

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