Page 11 of The Alpha's Broken Oath

His face is practically white. His once great body is reduced to nothing but a sack of bones. His hair, once the same color as mine, is now gray, and his lips are cracked like a man trying to hold his last breath.

Except today is the day my father dies. I can see it. I can feel it, and the healer said so, too.

I stand by his bedside, watching him try to speak.

“Dad.”

The air stirs around us, and the tension is so palpable I can taste it in my mouth.

“I’m dying. I’ve tried to hold on, son, but this? This seems like the end of the road for me. My pack, my family… I’m leaving them behind.”

The fake smile on my lips is enough to make my stomach churn as I assure him,” I’ll take care of everything, Dad. Our family and our pack—they are mine now.”

“Yes. Yes. You’ll be Alpha. You’ll make a good Alpha. Better… than I was. Stronger.”

Grabbing the headboard of his bed, I lean closer to him, right where he can hear me loud and clear as every breath escapes from his body.

“I’ll make a good Alpha, Dad. You know why? Because I intend to bring back the woman you forced me to reject a year ago.”

His bloodshot eyes go wide, and he uses the only remaining strength in his body to grab my shirt. I can only smirk at that.

“You were the Alpha then, and I couldn’t stop you from harming my mate, but the fucking minute you die, I’ll be the Alpha. I’ll protect her, and I’ll make her Luna and give you as many bouncing grandchildren as I can.”

I want him to roll in his grave as Winter and I have the happy ending we deserve.

“She was not…not worthy! She was a Cavanaugh! I did everything for you. I did it for you!”

This man, my father, had gone to extreme lengths a year ago to keep me away from Winter.

“You did it for me? You have never done anything for anyone. Everything you did, you did for yourself.”

Everything that happened to my mate has been on me, and I’ll live to ask for forgiveness from her.

My father’s teeth grind in his mouth, and the realization of what I’m about to do hits him hard.

“You think I don’t know you did it, Dad? That you killed Jacob and Winter’s parents? All for what? Huh? So, you could teach me a lesson? Separate me from her? Well, I’m swearing on your deathbed, Foster, that Winter Cavanaugh will be back in my arms soon, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

My words turn out to be the sharpest blades that have ever sliced his body. The horrific look on his face only makes his white skin turn paler, almost like how a wounded animal discovers there’s no way to escape the predator. And death? It might be the biggest predator of all.

His hands, which are now more boneless than anything, grip my shirt, but with the disease festering in his blood like poison, the almighty Foster can’t do the very thing his mind is telling him to.

He wants to punch me and put me in line. Joke’s on him because this is the last time we breathe the same air.

Bloodshot eyes, the color of a madman, lock in on me as he opens his mouth, trying to fight me. ” You are not going… to ruin your future. Over my dead body, you will not.”

I’m about to inform him he’s already going to be dead by sunset, but fate takes its natural course.

My father’s hands loosen against the collar of my shirt, and I take a step away, watching the Almighty Foster Cross break into a series of uncontrollable coughs. The coughs turn into him squelching blood from his mouth and nose.

Angling his head so our eyes can meet, his frail hand reaches out to me, seeking sympathy, but there is no sympathy for a wicked man like him.

“Deacon…help…me.”

I watch the once-great Alpha of Moonstone Pack choke on his own blood while he begs me to help him.

I don’t help him, of course, because death comes for him faster than the shock can do so. The beeping machines near his bed roar louder than my breathing.

The healer and her assistants run into the room, trying to revive my father, but I know the truth.

---