Defy The Alpha(s) novel Chapter 665

Chapter 665: The First Horsemen - 4

It was strange. Noah had never seen a drug like this.

Inside the pamphlet, a line was printed in italics:

Want a taste of power? Try IGNIS.

Further down, there was a small drawing of a clock, the hand fixed at the 30-minute mark.

Thirty minutes for what?

None of it made sense. It felt like gibberish, and his head was pounding too much to decode whatever this was supposed to mean.

Noah had just begun to set everything aside when his bedroom door suddenly swung open.

He jerked, nearly jumping out of his skin.

Lo and behold, Anthony stood in the doorway.

Fuck his life.

"Dad?" Noah called nervously, rubbing his palm against his shirt.

Anthony squinted at him — still obviously drunk — first staring at Noah as if he wasn’t sure he was real, then glancing toward the clock on the far wall.

"You’re an hour early," he muttered.

Noah lied smoothly. "I wasn’t feeling well. A coworker covered my shift."

Then something seemed to click in Anthony’s fogged brain. He stumbled farther into the room and grabbed Noah’s chin roughly, turning his face toward the light.

"What the fuck happened to you?!" he snarled.

Noah swallowed hard. "I slipped and fell."

Anthony’s grip tightened. "Do you think I’m a fool, boy? Who did this to you?"

Noah hesitated, then exhaled. "It was Ken. A coworker. He’s a werewolf."

He should have lied. But the sudden concern in Anthony’s expression made him say the truth. Maybe some tiny part of him hoped his father would finally fight for him.

Noah continued with a low voice, heavy with the humiliation of the day.

"I got fired. The manager chose him over me. I snapped and threw the first punch. And then I got this."

Except, he should have known better.

Anthony’s face hardened, that moment of concern evaporating. His jaw clenched, and his eyes went cold.

"So..." his father started slowly, voice dripping with contempt, "not only did you get fired, you let a werewolf beat you to a pulp?"

"No, it was just one punch..."

The words slipped out before he could stop them and instantly made everything worse.

Anthony barked out a humorless laugh. "I’ve got a fucking dimwit for a son."

Noah froze.

Anthony stared at him, gaze narrowing, something cold and mean twisting in his expression. "Are you even sure you’re my son?"

"What?" Noah’s blood turned to ice.

His father could have punched him, kicked him, screamed at him and Noah wouldn’t have flinched. But hearing the man who raised him doubt whether he belonged to him at all? That cut deeper than any blow ever could.

Anthony said callously, "I mean, for all we know, your whore of a mother never loved me. She could’ve dropped some bastard kid on me just to punish me."

And with that, Anthony didn’t just twist the knife, no, he drove it straight through his heart.

"No son of mine would be pathetic and weak like you," Anthony sneered. "So you lost your job. What now? You expect me to go out there and work for the both of us?"

Noah didn’t answer. He just stood there, his shoulders stiff, letting the words wash over him.

Anthony jabbed a finger into his chest.

"I raised you for eighteen years. I put a roof over your head. The least you could do is take care of me now."

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