Defying the Rogue Alpha
Chapter 164: Impression

Chapter 164: Impression

He modulated his voice carefully. It was a good impression of Lucas, with the cell shadows, Dorian didn’t notice.

"Because I expected more from you," Dorian replied. "So much more. You were supposed to be our Herod of the East. The warrior who would rise above the rest, who could dance with devils and still walk out wearing his crown."

He exhaled, then scoffed bitterly. "But instead, you let yourself be manipulated by a woman. You..." he jabbed a finger toward the bars, "...allowed her to make you soft. And stupid. Love? That was your downfall. Not your enemies. Not even me."

Dennis sat forward slightly, his face darkening. "So that made you pit my brother against me?" he asked. "Set Ava up? Hand your own people over to a monster just to prove what, Dorian? That you could still win a game no one else agreed to play?"

"You killed my son!" Dorian bellowed. His fists clenched at his sides, nails biting into his palms. His face was contorted, a man torn apart by betrayal — or at least, what he believed to be betrayal. The grief was raw. It had calcified over time. He hadn’t cried, not once.

Dennis, still sitting on the floor behind the iron bars, lifted his head with the cool disdain of a man who knew something Dorian didn’t. And that smug, shit-eating smirk made Dorian want to throttle the bars until they bent in half.

"It’s funny," Dennis said, "how you claim to want an alpha like Herod—cold, merciless, unfeeling. A tyrant in every sense. And yet here you are, whining because your son was allegedly killed for treason." He lifted a finger, wagging it mockingly. "You can’t romanticize the blade and then cry when it turns toward you. A sword cuts both ways, Dorian. And sometimes, if you’re not careful, it guts the fool who swings it."

Dorian’s nostrils flared. "’Allegedly’?" he growled, stepping closer to the cell, his face darkening.

"Yes. Allegedly. Because, by taking Ava and throwing your lot in with the king, you’ve done something even worse: you’ve served your own son up to the beast on a silver platter. Did you forget who Kade is? The man would chase death itself for his Luna. It’s not just duty, Dorian. It’s devotion. He’s a damned good soldier. Loyal. Brave. Unlike his father, who fancies himself a kingmaker but keeps breaking his own pawns."

"My son is dead!" Dorian shouted, throat raw now, each word catching fire on its way out. "You killed him! You did!"

Dennis tilted his head, almost sympathetically. "No, Dorian. You tried to kill him and are trying to kill him. Once when you set Ava up not knowing your own son would rescue her from execution. And again now, by aligning with a monster and opening the East to a hostile take over."

Dorian’s face paled.

"And while Kade risks his life up here in the North," Dennis continued, "your idiotic ambition may have left the East vulnerable to attack. Where your unborn child lives."

That brought Dorian up short.

His brows furrowed. "My... what?"

Dennis leaned back, hands behind his head now, a picture of villainous comfort. "Tell me, Dorian, how did it feel? Hmm? Fucking your Alpha’s concubine?"

Dorian stumbled backward. He blinked hard, trying to steady the spinning room. Sarah? Sarah was pregnant? That—no, that couldn’t be right. They had a thing, yes, a stupid late-night mistake. But she’d never said anything. She never told him...

"She...she’s pregnant?" he said aloud, more to the air than to Dennis.

"Shocked, uhn?" Dennis leaned forward, watching Dorian with a satisfaction that was far too smug for a man locked behind iron bars. "And yet... the Luna—the very woman you threw to the wolves—she extended mercy to Sarah. Mercy! She could’ve ripped her throat out, but no...she left the choice to Kade."

Dennis didn’t stop. He was on a roll, and years of bitterness were finally boiling over.

"You stand there pretending to be the righteous one," Dennis sneered. "Plotting and scheming. And for what? Legacy? Power? You talk about loyalty like you invented it...like you’re the patron saint of noble intentions. I urge you to find your son and learn loyalty from him. Because he is not dead but he might be soon."

Lucas had predicted this, had predicted that Herod would suspect something fishy, suspect it was too easy and would send Dorian to find out, and that was when Dennis would get in Dorian’s head. They needed him out of the equation because he knew Lucas, knew his fighting skills, knew his strategies. And like Ava always said, you want to take anything down, you do it from the inside.

"You’re lying!!!" Dorian shouted, the panic finally lacing his voice. He lunged forward, gripping the cell’s iron rails so hard the metal groaned. He peered closer, narrowing his eyes at the man sitting there, quiet now, almost too calm.

And that’s when it hit him.

He saw it. Not Lucas. Not at all. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at the man’s hands—unscarred, smooth, untouched by battle.

"Dennis..."

The man rose to his feet with a quiet dignity that echoed louder than Dorian’s earlier rage. There was no more need for performance. No more need to pretend.

Dennis stood tall, his shoulders square, chin lifted.

"Where is the Alpha?" Dorian barked, almost tripping over his own desperation.

Dennis gave a small, disappointed chuckle. "Some questions shouldn’t be asked, Dorian. Not when you already know you won’t like the answers."

Dorian’s chest heaved. His world was spiraling. "You’re going to go down for this..."

"Oh, no," Dennis cut him off smoothly. "You are going down...with the King. Whether by my hand," he took a step closer to the bars, "or by your son’s," another step, "or even worse...by my brother’s." He smiled now, a slow, dangerous grin. "And trust me, you do not want to be on Lucas’s bad side when it comes to his mate. I watched him break himself out of silver chains for her. It was the most epic moment of my entire life."

"Kade... is really alive?" Dorian asked quietly, half-praying that it wasn’t true, even as hope flared deep in his chest.