Rise of the Underdogs: KADEN

Reactional Retaliation

Did I want to tell anyone that I was bringing my little cousin to the mansion on the coast? No. I didn’t. I didn’t want her anywhere near Grandfather, but that was the problem. So, I handed Izzy the planning reins and she chose a public place where Grandfather would have no choice but to keep the peace.

I had to go through him to get into the house, and I didn’t want that.

‘Through him sounds like bloody work. When do we start?’ Malachite.

As I sat there at the table, a strange tension simmered between my thoughts and emotions. The wolf that prowled the corners of my mind seemed determined to coax a laugh out of me, even though all I truly wanted was to unleash a string of curses. Its persistent urging clashed with my frustration, creating a chaotic inner battle. The impulse to laugh felt almost mischievous, as if the wolf was trying to distract me from the seriousness of the situation. Yet, beneath the surface, irritation threatened to spill over, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

Neil couldn’t make it, so I was her guard. By picking a public venue, she ensured that everyone present would be compelled to maintain decorum. The underlying threat was clear: anyone who failed to behave could easily find themselves the subject of public scrutiny, with consequences that would not be easily forgotten. In this controlled environment, the usual family tensions simmered beneath the surface, but the fear of causing a scene kept most tempers in check.

It was a subtle power play. One that allowed Izaria to steer the situation and keep potential conflicts from boiling over.

‘We don’t.’ I told my wolf.

‘But he’s going to leer at Izzy!’ He was seriously determined to make me break.

‘Let him,’ I commented back. ‘He’d be Mom’s problem then.’

Malachite stilled, his eyes sliding closed as an obvious smile graced his wolfish face. ‘Mother would make him wish he’d never existed if we told her. Be a shame if he slipped onto his pompous ass, though. Such a shame if the floor gets to spank the overgrown toddler before anyone else does.’

Oh Gods. He wasn’t going to let it go anytime soon.

“Yeah,” I said out loud. “A real shame if the gender he thinks is weak lays his ass out.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from the man at the other end of the table. Great-Uncle Jared forced a smile and said, “Nice to have a quiet family dinner.”

‘Family’ dinner? Ha! It felt more like a challenge to not murder anyone who looked at my Luna the wrong way. Instead of voicing my real thoughts, I replied, “Yeah. Nice.”

“What was that, boy?” Grandfather, in his infinitely misinformed wisdom, so didn’t notice when Izaria’s hand twitched. If he started on her, all I had to do was send out a call to her Mate, and the Druid castle would be turned into Neil’s catwalk.

A bloody, brutal mess if anyone got in the way of him getting to Izzy.

“I have a name,” I stated, drawing on the fact that my older brother was clutching his fork like he wanted to stab someone. “Kindly use it. Otherwise don’t blame me for countering you with rationality.”

‘Dre losing his s**t would be under the category of ‘Not Good’,’ Malachite snickered.

‘No, it would be a Category 5 hurricane that’s only going to stop when the family bends to his will.’ I told him dryly.

“You…”

“Nigel, do be silent, Child.” Grandmother Gaia stated with a simplicity that humbled many a man. “This is my first encounter with my missing great-granddaughter, and I will not allow your ideals to ruin this evening. Should you continue, perhaps a few days of penance in a cell would be appropriate.”

The whole table relaxed, like a smaller portion of the tension had been popped, allowing everything else to fall into calm.

“Kaden, dear, have you not yet found your Gods-Fated Mate?” She asked, turning her unseeing eyes to me.

One aspect of our family that remains largely unknown to outsiders was the way the favoured members have always reflected the very heart of our family’s values. It isn’t simply a matter of birthright or lineage. Those chosen or cherished seemed to embody the core principles that defined the Cage blood.

Looking back, it’s clear that Grandfather and his brothers were bypassed in succession after a disastrous episode where they actually fought amongst themselves over the crown. Their actions stood in stark contrast to the ideals the family held dear, and as a result, they were set aside.

In stark comparison, my late uncle, Raphael, demonstrated those family values when he willingly relinquished his claim to the crown. Rather than clinging to power, Raphael handed the crown to his younger brother—my father—who reigned as the King of Druids for the last two decades. This act of selflessness and understanding of what truly matters marked the beginning of a new era for our family, one guided by the values we strived to uphold.

Within the generation of those who just reached adulthood, only Dreson and I were found to possess the qualities needed to be considered among the favoured. This distinction wasn’t just a matter of privilege. It carried real significance in terms of ability and expectation.

Of all the grandchildren, I was the one who inherited Grandmother Gaia’s rare and revered gift of Spirit Sight. While many can read auras to some extent, my abilities extend much further. It’s a skill that goes beyond the ordinary and connects me directly to the lineage and legacy that Grandmother Gaia represents.

Soul, or Spirit Sight, has always been considered a notable ability within our family, though it is not as rare or extraordinary as Izzy’s unique powers. Still, among my generation, I was the only one who possessed it.

This set me apart in a way that both honoured our lineage and distinguished my role in the family.

Much like Grandmother Gaia before me, I was aware that my physical eyesight will gradually deteriorate over the next several years. Possibly decades. The knowledge and mastery of Spirit Sight were not just gifts, but necessities. When blindness inevitably claims my ability to see the physical world, it would be my Spirit Sight that allowed me to remain true to myself and continue perceiving that which others couldn’t.

“I have,” I responded, my voice measured and calm. “However, she is still very young—just sixteen years old. Because of that, I’m choosing to take things slowly with her, spending time to truly get to know her before involving her in anything related to royal matters.”

Grandmother nodded approvingly, her breath soft as she blew on her food. “That’s a good boy, now. Yes, yes,” she murmured, then turned her attention to those at the table. “Eat up now, dear. You too, Celestia. You wolves need your proper intake.” Her gaze lingered on Celestia for a moment, her tone shifting with curiosity. “My goodness, your soul is brighter than bright today, my dear. Is something wrong?”

Mom visibly tensed at the question, her eyes flickering down to Grandfather for a brief second before she replied, “Nothing at all, Grandmother-in-law.”

Leaning in closer, Dad whispered quietly, “Cece, is it just me or are our boys up to something?”

Mom lowered her voice, her words laced with a conspiratorial edge. “Oh, they are totally up to no good, but I’m letting it slide,” she hissed. “He glared at that poor child, Rowan! That pompous bastard glared at our girl!”

His head snapped up to meet his father’s eyes, the piercing blue gaze leaving no room for excuses. He said firmly, “If ever there comes a day that my boys upend the family, I’m going to grin and bear it. And stop glaring at my niece before I let my Queen go feral on you, Father. Izaria is not Tainted.”

Across the table, my younger cousin watched the exchange with amusement, a smirk playing on her lips. She addressed Grandfather Nigel directly, daintily eating a piece of shrimp off her plate. “You may want to take your son’s advice. After all, my Mate is the Crown Prince of Werewolves, and he absolutely despises anyone who threatens my health and safety.”

‘We should totally call King…’ my wolf’s grin was tight as he trailed off, a gleam of mischief lighting his eyes, ‘and Casper.’

‘Chite!’

‘What? Just saying, but I think those two would appreciate the humour in the situation.’

I bit my lip hard enough to taste blood. ‘Chite, no! Neil would go bat-s**t cray-cray!’

‘Worth it.’

For those who might be puzzled by the name Casper let me clarify. That’s Colton’s wolf. If you reflect on it, Colton moved through the pack’s hierarchy with an uncanny subtlety. Almost like a ghost. He had an effortless way of befriending nearly everyone he encountered. However, there was another side to him. Anger him just right, and suddenly it was open season on idiots who didn’t know better.

My perspective on Colton changed completely during high school. It was then I understood for the first time since meeting him when I was five that he didn’t just consider me a friend. He openly called me his “brother from another mother.” That public acknowledgement meant more than I could have anticipated. It was in that moment I knew that if Dre wasn’t around, Colton would always have my back.

“Kaden!”

“Hm?” I glanced at my brother, at the dark brooding in his eyes as he set his jaw.

“Soon.”

“Oh, I know. At some point in the next few years, it will happen. Let me get my Mate first, then we set the family on fire.” I asked of him, knowing he would relent to me.

He huffed a laugh, “Fair. The outcome?”

“The same no matter how we look at it.” I said. “One of us is taking out the family. The other takes the crown. Boils down to who’s who.”

“Which is why I need to talk to you later. Come to my manor,” he whispered low enough that only the two of us (and mom because she was Werewolf, and our hearing was one of our powerful senses) could hear.

“Sure.”