HIDDEN HOWL

Chapter Sixteen: Daemon's Rage

XERXES

I can't remember the last time I felt such uncontrollable rage.

I had been standing at the edge of the garden, my eyes fixed on the Silvershade sisters as they stood before Trinity, their words sharp, their tones cruel.

The cold, calculated veneer I had built over the years—the one that kept me untouched by the world’s trifling offenses—began to crumble, piece by piece.

Watching them berate Trinity, seeing her flinch, her body tense, her eyes clouded with unshed tears, stirred something in me I could not control.

I had spent years honing my control, learning to keep every emotion locked away, buried under layers of stone.

But something about Trinity’s vulnerability shattered that control. It was like watching a part of me break, my stoic demeanor dissolving as I stepped forward, every instinct telling me that what was happening was wrong.

The Silvershade sisters didn’t see me coming. They were too consumed by their petty cruelty, too wrapped up in their superiority. But when they turned to face me, their faces drained of color. Amara, the eldest of the three, took a half step back.

“What are you doing here, Xerxes?” she asked, her voice shaking just slightly. She was trying to sound confident, but it faltered when she met my gaze.

I let a low growl rumble in my chest, my voice as cold as ice. “This is my castle, Amara,” I said, stepping closer, each word deliberate. “I can be anywhere I please.”

Their faces paled even further, as if the very air had turned toxic with the presence of my words. But I wasn’t looking at them anymore.

My eyes were drawn to Trinity.

She stood frozen, her hands trembling as she looked down at the scattered sketches she had been working on—ruined. I could see it in her eyes: the pain, the heartbreak. It was as if her entire world had been upended by the weight of their harsh words.

And then, the rage came.

It was a hot, burning fire, unlike anything I’d ever experienced. It was raw, primal a force that surged through my body, threatening to consume everything in its path.

I had never felt it before, not like this, not in response to anyone but myself. But Trinity had nothing to do with this. She didn’t deserve their scorn. Not one bit.

“Apologize to her,” I demanded, my voice low and dangerous. It was a command, but there was something more in it. A warning. The beast inside me stirred, just beneath the surface, its eyes locked on the three sisters. “Now.”

The Silvershades exchanged glances, but none of them moved. They thought they could defy me.

“I’m not going to apologize,” Maia sneered, her tone dripping with arrogance. “Why should I? She’s just a—"

Before she could finish her sentence, I stepped forward with such speed that they flinched, retreating in sync like a group of startled rabbits.

My wolf surged within me, and I let a glimpse of it show—my eyes shifting to gold, my fangs momentarily visible, the air crackling with the threat of something far darker than they had anticipated.

Maia’s bravado faltered, her face flushing with fear. She took an instinctive step back, followed by Selene, and finally Amara, who was the first to speak.

“Fine,” she muttered, her voice dripping with resentment, “We apologize. Trinity, we’re sorry for what we said.”

But I wasn’t satisfied. My eyes narrowed, and I growled softly, making the air around us heavy with tension.

“No,” I said, my voice sharp. “That apology doesn’t mean anything. You’re going to say it like you mean it.”

The sisters stood in stunned silence, their eyes wide as they realized I was serious. The fear was evident now, all pretense of superiority gone.

Maia swallowed, her gaze flickering to the ground.

“I’m sorry… for ruining your sketches.” She said it in a barely audible voice, but it was enough. The apology had a ring of truth to it.

Selene followed suit, her voice slightly less bitter. “I’m sorry for my words. I didn’t mean… to hurt you.”

And finally, Amara, though clearly still resentful, gave in. “I’m sorry, too,” she said, her voice tight. “For everything.”

I let the silence hang for a moment, letting their apologies sink in, before I finally spoke again. “Now leave,” I said, my voice cold, final. “All of you.”

They didn’t hesitate this time. Without another word, they turned and retreated, moving quickly to get out of my sight. But Amara hesitated at the door, casting one last glance over her shoulder, a look of defiance still in her eyes. I met her gaze with an expression so cold, so devoid of mercy, that she didn’t speak another word before she left.

The silence that followed their departure was deafening.

I turned to Trinity, and my chest constricted. She was standing there, staring down at the pieces of paper scattered on the grass, her eyes wide, glazed with emotion. Her breath was shaky, as though she was struggling to hold herself together.

I stepped closer, my voice softer now, despite the fury still burning within me. “Are you okay?” I asked, my throat tight with concern.

She didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze was still locked on the ruined sketches, her chest rising and falling rapidly. When she spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “I… I’m fine.”

But I knew she wasn’t. I could see the tears welling up in her eyes, though she tried to blink them away. My instincts screamed at me to reach for her, to comfort her, but I held myself back, knowing she needed space.

Before I could say anything else, she turned abruptly and fled, her footsteps quick and heavy as she hurried back toward the palace. I didn’t miss the tears that spilled from her eyes, not a single one.

I stood there, staring after her, my chest heavy with the weight of my own helplessness.

I fear Trinity's presence here was going to bring more drama than I anticipated.