My Father's Basterd Son

Chapter One: The Letter “WHAT IS THIS?” “What the hell is this? What do you mean you have a bastard son?” The words came out cracked. Not a shout. Worse. Ace’s hand shook around the parchment. The paper made a soft, ugly sound as he crushed it tighter. The Duke’s study smelled like cedar and leather and old smoke. It was too quiet. Ace was pacing, tearing holes in the carpet with his boots. One of his knuckles was split open, blood running slow down his finger. He’d put his fist through the hallway wall on the way here. He couldn’t feel it. “You cheated on our mother?” He stopped dead and turned. “After everything?” His chest was too tight. Air burned on the way in. He slammed both palms on the oak desk. The sound cracked through the room. “Look at me. Answer me.” Duke Aster Valebane sat behind that desk, but he didn’t look like the Black Wolf. His head was down. For the first time in Ace’s life. His black hair fell forward and hid his face. In his hands—a letter, crushed into a damp ball. Hands that had never shaken holding a sword were shaking now. Beside him, in the velvet chair, his mother cried. No sound. Just her shoulders shaking. A handkerchief pressed to her mouth like that could stop it. Alex stood behind her like a statue. One hand on her shoulder. But his scent was wrong. Frosted pine and winter air, usually so steady, was fraying at the edges. Sharp. Like grief and rage held down by sheer force. Aster lifted his head. His eyes were red. “I never,” he whispered. And it wasn’t the Duke talking. It was just a man. “I never cheated on you, Rose.” Roseline looked at him. More tears fell. She shook her head. A silent, broken question. Alex moved finaly. He took the letter from his father’s grip and smoothed it out on the desk with mechanical fingers. Then he finally opened to read it. “It says,” Alex started, voice too calm. Too dangerous. “That our envoys to the Elistan Empire saw a man in the marketplace. A man with our eyes.” A soft hiccup broke from Roseline. Her hand flew to her throat. “The Emperor,” Alex went on, each word dropping like a stone, “has taken an interest. He’s bringing him here. Officially. Because it’s a matter of blood. Of inheritance.” Ace kicked the leg of a chair. Wood groaned. “He wants a pawn. He’s always wanted his claws in our house. This is how.” But the anger died in his throat when he looked at his father. Aster was staring at Roseline like the world was ending. “Believe me,” he begged, and his hands trembled. “I don’t... I don’t even know how this happened. She tricked me. When you were sick, years ago... my rut came. I locked myself in the old chambers. I didn’t want to hurt anyone." "She wore your perfume. Your clothes. To hide her scent. " "She climbed into my bed. I was out of my mind. I thought it was you, Rose. I thought it was you until _this moment_.” He stopped. Swallowed. The next word choked him. “I just learned today that... I was...” He couldn’t say it. _Rapé_. The word sat in the room like poison. Roseline was out of her chair instantly. She cupped his face in both hands and wiped a tear from his cheek with her thumb. “No,” she whispered, voice thick. “No, my love. It wasn’t your fault. You were tricked. You were the victim here.” And then she broke. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed, clinging to the dark wool of his coat. Ace took a step back. He’d never seen his father cry. Watching him crack open like this felt like watching the world tilt off its axis. Ace pressed his bleeding hand to his mouth to smother the sound that wanted out. “What now?” His voice was . “We just let him come? Let him waltz in and... and take everything from Mother? If he’s older than us...” “If he is older,” Alex cut in, eyes like ice, “and if Father is forced to acknowledge the blood claim... then by law, he’s the heir.” “No.” Roseline pulled back. Her face was tear-streaked but suddenly hard. “No. I don’t care what happens to me. I will never let him take my sons’ lives. You have bled for this duchy. You have _earned_ it.” She looked at Aster, unwavering. “You cannot give it to him.” Aster reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. He looked at his sons. The Duke was gone..Here was just a father. Terrified for his family. His voice was low when it came. Final. “I will never acknowledge him as my son.” --- Outside the study, in the cold marble hall, a shadow listened. A thin, cruel smile cut across its face in the dark. Then it melted back into the estate.