Chapter: 65
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Restlessness consumed him as he paced his private room, fully aware of the chaos unfolding in his territory. The Lycgers were decimating his men, yet fear immobilized him, preventing him from confronting them. He acknowledged his lack of strength to engage in a battle against such formidable foes. His only recourse was to eliminate Dirk, absorbing his powers to bolster his own and be capable of facing any shifter. Malta halted his pacing at the growing howls and snarls of vampires, the sounds intensifying. The overwhelming odors of blood, death, and decay invaded the air, causing his stomach to churn and nearly buckle his knees. He urgently needed reinforcements, and he knew precisely whom to contact.
In a sudden blaze of light, his private door flung open, revealing his father standing before him, his eyes piercing with the familiar disdain that always belittled him. Each contemptuous glance from his father reinforced his insecurities, fueling his desire to prove himself worthy and dispel the notion of his weakness. However, the reality of the moment only seemed to confirm his father's low opinion of him.
"Father," he addressed, his voice betraying a trace of vulnerability. "Forgive my abrupt summons and the short notice."
Maurice's expression hardened, his furrowed brow silently questioning, "Why am I here?" The disdain in his tone underscored his reluctance to be in his son's presence.
Despite the shattering thoughts that assailed him, he maintained a facade of composure, seeking assistance from his father in a moment of dire need. "Father, please, my territory is besieged. I implore you to deploy some of your warriors to repel the Lycgers' attack," he beseeched, dropping to his knees in a gesture of desperation to convey the urgency of his plea. "I beg of you, Father. I cannot do this alone."
His father's piercing gaze bore into him, a silent standoff unfolding between them. After a tense pause, a dismissive wave of the hand and a scornful declaration shattered any hope he held. "I am ashamed to have you as my son!" Maurice's voice resonated with contempt as he turned away, disowning him with scathing words. The King's anger simmered, his pacing filled with fury as accusations and disappointment poured forth. "Your actions dishonor my name, and your intentions to seize power through treachery and deceit are despicable!" Maurice's countenance darkened at the sight of his son's frail appearance.
With a sneer, he continued his tirade, condemning his son's deeds with escalating rage. "You bring shame upon us all, tarnishing our legacy with your vile acts. I had hoped for redemption, but you remain unchanged, a wretched creature driven by dark ambitions!" The King's voice thundered with disgust and rage, his face flushed with fury.
"From this day forth, you are no longer my son! You alone bear the consequences of your malevolent actions, which have sown discord and tragedy among our kin and allies," Maurice declared, his words laced with contempt as he denounced his son's role in the ensuing chaos.
The man strode past Malta, who remained on his knees, making his way to the door with purpose. "Excuse me, I must convene a meeting with fellow Kings to address the turmoil caused by your insatiable greed. It is imperative that they understand our innocence in this madness," he asserted, opening the door to reveal a shimmering portal. Casting a final disdainful glance at Malta, he delivered a cutting revelation. "Tricc now holds the title of Alpha of Alphas, with centuries worth of abilities. Had you been better informed, you would have realized your futile endeavors, particularly against Tricc." With those parting words, he stepped through the portal, disappearing.
"Please... Father!" Tears streamed down Malta's face, his heart heavy with the weight of his father's animosity. "Please!" Left alone to confront the consequences of his actions, his hands trembled uncontrollably as he collapsed to the ground, overwhelmed with despair. Determination surged within him; he refused to succumb to defeat. In a swift motion, he composed himself, wiping away his tears. He knew he had to act swiftly to confront the Lycgers or evade them, even if it meant resorting to extreme measures. His father's demise at his hands became a dire necessity to secure his own survival.
******
Rising to his feet, he retrieved his phone from the table. The distant cries of his warriors outside grew fainter, signaling the advancing threat of the Lycgers. Time was of the essence. Dialing the necessary number, he waited anxiously for a response.
"Malta, I'm occupied at the moment. Be brief," Floridia's voice sounded strained and impatient. "I don't have time for-"
"Listen Floridia, for once in your fucking life, please, God Dammit!" He cut her off and immediately went on to speak. "My people are in danger, my father has abandoned me, and the Lycgers are closing in. I'm running out of time, I need your help!" Malta's voice cracked with emotion, his desperation evident. "Send more of your vampires, get me out of here, please!"
Floridia's exasperated sigh cut through the tension. "Mal, I've given you all I can. My resources are depleted, I can't offer more assistance," she explained, her tone resigned.
Facing the grim reality of his situation, Malta realized the futility of his plea. His forces were decimated, and both his father and Floridia seemed unwilling or unable to aid him. "You must have more vampires at your disposal, Floridia. We initiated this conflict, and if I fall, they will come for you next," he implored, a sense of urgency lacing his words.
"My hands are tied, Malta," she reiterated. "Moreover, why would they target me? Your vendetta was against Dirk, not me. My aim was solely to claim my father's inheritance... I would have been content if my brother had shared a portion of that wealth with me. I lack the expertise to oversee our syndicate. My father entrusted Dirk with that responsibility, believing in his ability to lead the family after his passing..."
"...My father did not entrust me with that role. If I were capable of managing the family affairs, he would have designated me as his successor. However, he chose Dirk... You harbored ill intentions towards him," her voice trailed off sadly before she resumed. "You sought his demise to usurp your father and assume his position, while I simply desired a portion of my father's inheritance... If the Lycgers have set their sights on you, it is your burden to bear. You must resolve this on your own. I cannot be entangled in your affairs."
Her demeanor remained resolute, offering him no room for persuasion. "We both started this, it was you who informed me of Dirk's abilities and how I could get what I want through gaining these abilities... it was you and that son of a bitch-"
"Sounds like a YOU problem now, Malta." Floridia dismissed him quickly. She truly does not desire to have a part in the Lycgers' wrath. She has a son to look out for, and she must secure his safety first. Malta is the least of her concerns at this time. Besides, who could say the Lycgers are aware of her involvement in Dirk's suffering?
Her unyielding dismissal left Malta with a sinking feeling of abandonment, his last hope dashed against the harsh reality of his isolation. "But, Flori-" he began, only to be cut short once more.
"I'm occupied, Malta. My priority is safeguarding myself and my son from the Lycgers' fury... Contact me if you survive another day." With that finality, Malta was met with a cold click as she ended the call without a second thought.
Malta, overcome with frustration, unleashed a primal scream, hurling his cell phone to the ground in a fit of rage. It shattered into fragments. "Damn it!!!" he bellowed at the heavens, striking the wall with his fist, disregarding the pain radiating from his knuckles. This couldn't be real; he refused to accept his fate. He couldn't passively wait for the Lycgers to descend upon him like a lamb for slaughter. Determination etched on his face, he turned towards the door, marching purposefully.
However, before he could take more than a couple of strides, the doors swung open, revealing the menacing forms of the Lycgers, their bloodied and savage appearance akin to demons unleashed from the depths of hell, poised to tear him to pieces. Malta snarled, swiftly transforming into his massive black wolf form.
He was not going down without a fight.