Silas

He didn't feel right, despite the fact that he nearly had it all. If he could just get Harbinger's full approval and his daughter back to his side, he'd find life completely perfect.

Still, part of him felt bad at times for the things he had to do, but he agreed entirely with his father figure about keeping order. Things were the way they were for the protection of everyone. The ruling class belonged at the top, and those in the industry sectors were required to stay in their places to keep chaos from running free. If those at the bottom truly knew how badly things were, they'd probably just keel over and die.

For his entire existence, Silas had wanted one thing and one thing only: a father who loved him, cared for him, and most importantly - was proud of him. Life had been horrible until Harbinger brought him in. He hadn't a single male figure in his life that was positive until he caught the attention of the ruthless General.

Obediently, like any good son - Silas waited for his father to arrive for dinner. He kept his back straight and his shoulders back as he sat stiffly next to his mate, Cassandra.

She was gorgeous - everything he had wanted and more. Proper, prim, perfect features, classy, and best of all - devoted to him entirely. He had waited so very long to find his actual mate, and while he had fun with Syrana, and absolutely adored their daughter; however he like all wolves, could not just ignore their instincts. He was drawn to Cassandra like a fish on a hook.

Cassandra sat next to the false alpha with a refined posture that Silas missed seeing at home with Syrana. In fact, Cassandra was younger, far more pure in his eyes, and the glittering stars that were her endless citrine eyes. It was rather alluring to see his mate's smooth, chocolate brown hair in contrast to those deep eyes, and he leaned on his hand as he watched each fluid and goddess-like movement she made.

Still, he wasn't sure why Syrana had left without their daughter. He wanted to use Syri to lure his former partner back to the palace so that he could somehow, in some way keep her at his side. He planned to have her as his concubine, but there would be no way she'd agree if Veltar was still alive.

As much as he wanted to have everything, he felt as though he was losing more than he was gaining. There would be time to think about how to get Syrana back later. As long as she was with her siblings, Silas was certain she'd be fine. Myranda was known for making syrups and teas that were medicinal, so maybe she could help Syrana get better from whatever stomach bug she had come down with.

The doctors had told him Syrana would recover and be fine, but now that she was out in the cold, part of him was worried her condition would worsen. He wasn't sure why he cared, but he did. Maybe it was the remnant of the feelings he once had for his former mate, maybe it was because she was the mother of his pup, but whatever it was - it was nagging him at the back of his mind and he hated it.

Cassandra reached out and put her soft hand on his, and smiled at him with a true sweetness he hadn't seen in a long time. His marriage with Syranna had been on the rocks for a long time, but he hadn't intended to hurt her or have her find out about Cassandra. He just wanted to be happy, and keep Syrana happy, too.

"You shouldn't sit so stiffly, Silas. You look like you're about to meet a headmaster," Cassandra said tenderly and stroked the top of his hand with her thumb.

"I kind of am... My da- General Harbinger has always had high standards. I'm lucky to be under his charge," Silas answered with a weak smile.

"Hmmm," Cassandra hummed out in thought before she continued, "you needn't worry about his approval, Silas. You've done everything he has asked and more. How could he not be proud of you? He doesn't let you call you dad, either - and that doesn't seem right."

"It's fine, and don't say another word," Silas said with more authority than he realized. Lately it felt like his emotions were out of control. He felt weird, and easier to anger than he ever had before.

"As you wish, my alpha" Cassandra said obediently.

'If only Syrana could have been this supportive...' he thought bitterly, and felt his anger rise.

He went back to staring at the table as though he was lost in traumatic thoughts. Silas had only wanted to please his father-figure and earn his pride and love just as any son would. He failed so terribly though, no matter how hard he tried or how much he did.

Nothing was ever enough. Nothing ever met Harbinger's expectations - if Silas met one goal, there was immediately another for him to reach to. It felt unfair, but he also didn't know any other way to live life. Day in, day out it was Harbinger who pulled his puppet strings and held his approval over Silas' head.

Sometimes he wondered why Harbinger had even taken him in. Actually, he wondered that all of the time. Yet, with the only parental figure in his life, he was more grateful than he was resistant. He actually didn't harbor any hate towards Metas, but if it came to the prince suffering and himself - it was the obvious choice of who he'd want to have to suffer.

Metas at least had a really happy life in the beginning..and how could Silas help that his parents found Silas himself to be far more deserving of the throne than Metas? This was the only thing that kept him from questioning everything: his pride and his need to be adored.

As long as he had affection from Harbinger, what did it matter what happened to Metas? Besides, he truly did not think that the dethroned prince would be a good leader if Myranda was at his side.

He had known her far longer than Metas had - and in his opinion, she was nothing but a weak, pathetic burden. In fact, he agreed with Harbinger when he said that she should have died as the little spit she was, but only lived because of her brother and sister had been there to keep her alive.

Myranda didn't know her parents like Silas had, either. Lucky for everyone, they died when she was young. She didn't know about their smuggling of alcohol, or the way they made their children work harder than themselves. Myranda wasn't the one who had to fight her father because of the way he had yelled at Syrana. Silas was. Silas had been the one to bust them in the first place - all to spite the couple who did nothing but suck off of the generosity of others.

He was of firm belief that everyone needed to do their jobs as assigned to keep order. Their society was like a cog - and if one acted out, the rest would follow. Their current system had run perfectly for thousands of years. What was the need to change it? What was the point in trying to upset something that in his opinion, was functioning perfectly well.

Since Harbinger was his idol, entire world, and father figure, he shared the same views as he did. Silas had never faced actual hardship. Sure, he didn't have to claw his way up to the upper caves like Jyriah had actually done - but he had certainly paid his dues with all the regiments, rules, expectations, and requirements that Harbinger had for poor Silas.

The false alpha was so hellbent on gaining his 'father's' affection, that nothing else mattered to him anymore. Any sense of identity Silas had, was drowned out by the torture and mind-games that Harbinger had puthim under - the sad part was that he hadn't even realized it. He thought every single idea in his head was his own, and that he was in control.

The small little boy inside the man he wanted to appear to be was nothing but a shell of a life filled in with someone elses' dreams and desires. How could he know that wanting just a little affection - a hug, an 'atta boy', or even just being called son - would be so dangerous and so damning to his life?

It would be impossible for him to even know how to begin the thought process that he was being controlled by Harbinger. When you've been taught nothing more since being a child, what else could you know?

Silas thought he was growing into a man. Everything he was doing was to keep order and the upper class happy and obedient. He was just a sad kid looking for a loving father, or even a friend, and he was absolutely none the wiser.

He was lucky, though - because someone was starting to see it, and even if her father had ordered her to keep on Silas, it was hard for Cassandra to not start to bare resentment to the General for all the things he had done to this poor boy.

Even if everyone else saw Silas as the enemy, Cassandra was starting to realize that he was just as much as a victim as the rest of those under Harbinger's control.