6. His manipulation

After finishing his discussion with Olivia earlier, Brent found himself unable to return home. A nagging feeling persisted that she might have been discovered, knowing full well the trouble she could face if caught with him. It wasn't just a matter of losing trust; it could jeopardize their carefully laid plans.

Despite his reservations, Brent reluctantly made his way back to the pack house. Upon his return, he was immediately summoned by the Alpha's brother, Rodrigo, who was waiting in Brent's library, seated patiently as if he had all the time in the world.

"Tell me you succeeded," Rodrigo demanded, his voice sharp. "That girl is naive. Convincing her should've been easy."

Brent exhaled sharply. "She despises me. It won't be easy."

Rodrigo's eyes darkened. "I warned you. We need her cooperation, and you've made her resent you."

Brent's temper flared. "How was I supposed to accept a mute stealer wolf as my daughter? She's disgusting."

Rodrigo snapped, "Watch your tone. You may be Beta, but I'm second to the Alpha. I am the premier. If you fail, it's on you."

Brent instantly forced himself to calm down. He knew better than to challenge Rodrigo's authority. Like Devon, Rodrigo was ruthless—but his methods were far harsher, making him just as feared within the pack. Yet the pack revered Rodrigo more, for he was determined to lead them into the war against the witches in Glasgow—the war they had been waiting decades to wage. Devon, for whatever reason, refused to fight. He was weak.

"I understand," Brent said. "But forcing her could alert Devon."

Rodrigo smirked. "Then try again tonight. If someone saw you two together, use it. Make her resent Devon."

Brent nodded, then left.

When he reached the pack house, he saw Olivia still training intensely. She collapsed mid-training. Devon dumped cold water over her unconscious body.

Brent's jaw clenched. He'd hurt her before, but seeing another man dominate her—his daughter—ignited something primal.

"That bastard has to die," he growled.

A shock of icy water crashed over Olivia, stealing her breath. She gasped, shivering violently as she regained consciousness, her body trembling from the sudden chill. Her mind struggled to piece together what had happened.

The ground beneath her was hard. Rough. The scent of damp earth clung to her skin. She blinked against the light of the moon.

Opening her eyes slowly, Olivia found herself still on the training ground, Devon standing nearby with a bucket in hand. It stung that his response to finding her unconscious had been to douse her with cold water. Tears welled in her eyes, a mixture of hurt and frustration.

What had she been expecting anyway? He hated her just like everyone else.

"Get up," Devon commanded. "Come with me." Without waiting for her response, he turned and began walking away. Olivia hurried to catch up, her body aching and chilled from the night breeze.

Normally, being a werewolf should have granted her resilience against the cold, but Olivia was the weakest among her kind.

"Walk faster!" Devon snapped impatiently, his frustration palpable.

Olivia sighed inwardly, wishing he could see how much she was already pushing herself.

As Olivia followed Devon to wherever he was taking her, the journey felt long, each step seeming to widen the gap between them.

When they arrived at the pack house, Devon led Olivia to one of the older buildings tucked behind the main structure. He walked into a long hallway and stopped at the last door, swinging it open to reveal a modest room. "This is your room," he stated simply.

Olivia surveyed the space. It was larger than the cramped quarters she had grown accustomed to in her former home. A sturdy wardrobe stood against one wall, and moonlight streamed through oversized windows, casting warm beams across the room—a stark contrast to the dim, windowless room she had known before.

"You can rest for now. Tomorrow, your training continues," Devon informed her, switching on the lights before turning to leave. At the door, he glanced back at her. "And don't you dare faint tomorrow or I'll be waking you up with fire."

Olivia nodded, her heart sinking. She believed him. And it hurt that her mate, the one who should protect her, was the one hurting her.

Alone in the room, Olivia wasted no time preparing a hot bath. As she sank into the soothing water, she felt the tension in her muscles slowly ease, welcoming the brief respite from the day's challenges.

During her bath, she heard soft footsteps approaching her door. Instantly on guard, she scowled at the interruption. Could it be Devon? Or one of his servants? Quickly drying off and dressing in one of the dresses she had found in the wardrobe, she waited for a knock that never came. Disappointed and on edge, she settled into bed, pulling the covers around her.

After a tense silence, a faint knock finally broke the quiet.

"Olivia, if you won't open the door, I might just miss my way to Devon's room and tell him I am looking for my daughter," Brent stated calmly, his voice carrying a hint of threat.

The door swung open abruptly, revealing Olivia's tense and weak figure. She regarded him warily, suspicion etched across her face.

Reluctantly, she allowed him entry, closing and locking the door behind him with a resolute click. Her demeanor was defensive. "What do you want?" she gestured tiredly.

He maintained a composed face. "Olivia, that's not how you greet your father," he chided gently, though any paternal warmth was absent from his voice. And she could feel it. "I came to see how you are."

Her disbelief was evident, yet she didn't outright dismiss him. "How are you?" he continued, trying to sound concerned. She stared at him, unsure how to respond.

"Are you fine?" he asked, attempting to touch her, but she pulled away, avoiding his reach. "Please, let me apologize for what I did to you."

"Sorry isn't enough," she gestured bitterly, her resentment and pain evident. Despite her resistance, he sensed vulnerability beneath her tough exterior. This was the best time to gain her trust, now that it felt like the whole world was against her—even her mate. He would use this to make her do his bidding. All he had to do was swallow his disgust and pretend to be a caring father. That couldn't be too hard.

"Devon doesn't love you, Olivia," he stated firmly, seizing the opportunity to sow doubt. She turned away, refusing to meet his gaze—a sign that his words had struck a nerve. Good.

"Look at what he did to you. He found you unconscious, and instead of helping, he poured cold water on you," he continued, fueling her growing resentment toward Devon.

Her eyes widened in disbelief as she faced him again. "How do you know?" she demanded, suspicion coloring her face.

"I overheard him bragging to his Beta," he lied casually, studying her reaction closely. "That's why I came to check on you myself. Olivia, why endure such torment?"

"What do you mean?" Her gestures wavered, torn between defiance and curiosity.

"Consider this," he suggested. "You could neutralize his wolf first, then eliminate him. You would be free from this suffering, welcomed back to our home as a hero who vanquished Alpha Devon. I promise you, I'll get you a more suitable mate. Premier Rodrigo is a man of his word. He won't let you down."