Vow of the Predator

Chapter 4: Unspoken Rules

Sera walked down the grand staircase, her heels clicking in a slow, steady rhythm against the polished stone. Kael followed two paces behind, a silent shadow whose heavy presence made the broad marble steps feel narrow.

Sera passed the two armed guards at the dining room doors, who straightened instinctively the moment Kael came into view. Inside, a heavy crystal chandelier cast a harsh glare over the long mahogany table. Her father sat at the head, leaning back in a high-backed leather chair with an unlit cigar held between two thick fingers. Julian was already seated on the right, lazily swirling amber liquor in his glass.

"Sera," her father said, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. He didn't get up. He simply gestured with his cigar toward the table. "Sit."

Julian smirked, tapping the back of the empty chair directly to his right. "Saved you a spot, sister. Thought we could catch up."

Before Sera could speak, Kael stepped past her. He pulled out the heavy, velvet-backed chair on the opposite side of the table—directly at her father's left hand, well over ten feet away from Julian.

Julian’s smirk vanished. "What the hell are you doing?"

Kael didn't look at him. He held the chair steady, his dark eyes fixed entirely on Sera as he waited for her to take her seat. "The lady sits here."

Julian slammed his glass onto the table, splashing whiskey across the white linen. "She sits where I tell her to sit. Step back."

Kael didn't move an inch. The air in the room turned instantly sharp as Kael shifted his posture, his broad chest blocking Julian's line of sight to Sera. He met Julian’s glare with a flat, utterly lifeless stare that made the younger man's jaw snap shut mid-sentence.

Sera sat down gracefully, smoothing the front of her trousers. Kael pushed the chair in with precise, gentle care, his knuckles brushing lightly against the fabric near her shoulder. The faint heat radiating from his hand lingered near her neck for a second before he pulled back, taking his position directly behind her left shoulder.

"Enough, Julian," her father muttered, cutting a thick slice of steak from his plate. He glanced at Sera over the rim of his reading glasses. "I see you two are getting along."

"He follows orders," Sera said, placing her napkin across her lap. "Unlike some people in this house."

Julian snorted, leaning back and resting his elbows on the table. "He's a mad dog on a leash, Sera. Don't mistake his leash for loyalty. Father bought him out of a hole six years ago. He doesn't have a soul."

Sera felt a subtle shift in Kael’s weight behind her. The fabric of his suit jacket rustled as his chest expanded in a tight, quiet breath, but he didn't utter a word.

Sera tilted her head back slightly, catching the edge of Kael's dark gaze in her peripheral vision. "A dog that bites on command," she said softly, turning her cold eyes back to Julian, "is far more useful than a brother who drinks himself to sleep."