Josiah
The night air clung to me as I left the human hotel, its stench of cheap alcohol and cigarette smoke still clinging to my clothes. Neutral ground, they called it. A place where monsters like me and Duggar could sit across from each other without tearing the walls down. But even there, beneath the sterile lights and muted music, I had to wear the mask.
The mask of the apologetic Alpha. The remorseful son. The noble heir finally willing to admit the sins of his bloodline.
It made Duggar lean in. It made him listen.
But it was all a performance.
I walked through the empty streets back toward the car waiting for me, my gamma trailing silently a few paces behind. The city’s glow painted the night in fractured amber. To Duggar, I had said words that sounded like surrender. Words abou
