Jason's POV

　　With an almost silent click, the electronic doors and windows locked with only the smallest of warnings from my father; my eyes shot to Abigail, who seemed oblivious to what was happening around us or the potential threat being launched at her. 

　　"Stay calm!" Archer snarled, watching her through my eyes. "Your father is watching and assessing you, and where your loyalties lie, don't give him an inch." He warned.  

　　"No, the bastard will take a mile!" I agreed, keeping my composure calm even if I could feel Marcus gunning for an altercation between us, his earlier thawed ice well and truly restored. Nodding to Marcus, we watched Abbi walk through the living room, her fingers tracing the soft plush fabrics and expensive ornaments my mother had brought back from her travels. 

　　The inside of the packhouse had a chic and contemporary finish with high ceilings and a bespoke design that provided plenty of room for our pack gatherings and parties, as Abigail would see tonight!

　　"If she makes it through your fathers 'questions,' that is!" Archer snapped dryly. Archer is being a jackass lately, and for the life of me, I can't work out why.

　　From the right of the foyer where I stood now, trying to be as casual as possible, you could see the spacious living and dining room with a private study off to the left, where my father was most likely patiently waiting. I guessed he would want to keep this business-like and away from the ears of the rest of the household until he had more information.  

　　To the left of the foyer was the gourmet kitchen with a large central island where some omegas were gathered around preparing food for tonight's party. I saw Abigail marvelling at the state-of-the-art appliances and remembered the apartment I had picked her up from! This was different from what she was used to, I guessed.

　　"Alpha Maxwell is this way," Marcus announced as Abigail drifted into the kitchen, smiling at the omegas, who looked at her in confusion as she ran her fingers through the natural light that filtered in from its generously sized windows. 

　　"It's beautiful." She beamed, quickly distracted by the sound of innocent laughter. I smiled as she poked her head around a door that connected to a spacious TV and family playroom. Coming to stand beside her, I leaned up against the door and observed her watch the children playing; the smile on her face reminded me of our day with Lizzy and how maternal she was. From where she stood at the entrance, I eyed my sister approach her, her favourite doll in hand. Abigail knelt and took the offered doll from my sister's dainty hands. 

　　"Does she have a name?" Abigail's tone was so calm and soothing that I watched my sister melt like putty in her hands, just like she had with Lizzy.

　　"Shame she can't use that magic on your father and Marcus!" Archer snipped again.

　　"Lucy." My sister squeaked out, her eyes darting to me, making me sigh that even at her young age, she was taught to be cautious of everyone and everything. 

　　Her innocence disappeared far too young. 

　　"Well, I think she is beautiful, almost as pretty as you!" Tapping my sister on the nose, she giggled before holding her hand for Abigail to take, which she did without hesitation. I watched with a startling amount of fulfilment as Abigail sat among the children and played with dolls. She was putting on voices that had my sister and the other children laughing.

　　"We are going to marry her, right?" Archer purred, rubbing up against the walls of my mind. 

　　"You're moods, mate! I am getting you checked by the pack doctor when this shit is over!" I snap, sensing my father come and stand beside me; I sigh, knowing he is about to stop the merriment and swiftly end mine and Archer's good mood.

　　"Marcus tells me you won't let anyone near her." My father quizzed, raising a brow as he looked over at the scene before him. I expected him to chastise me for letting her near my sister and the other innocents, but instead, I noted the smile that pulled at the corners of his lips seeing his daughter climb into Abigail's lap.

　　Abigail told them all a story about evil dragons, the brave princes that came to rescue the pretty princesses while plating my sister's hair, styling her like that annoying Disney princess my sister was obsessed with. 

　　"Are you going to have a problem with me questioning her?" He added a slight smile, now a fully fletched beam. 

　　"Are you?" I laughed, shaking my head. 

　　"No!" He admitted nodding to me. "She is... different, I agree! Innocent even!"

　　"Given what we witnessed this morning, I would say she is hardly Innocent!" Archer interjected into my head, making me smirk, but I kept those thoughts to myself, not wanting to complicate things further.

　　"But I still think she is a danger." He finished crossing his arms and looking into the room; I could see Rage prickling behind his eyes, clearly on the same page as his counterpart.

　　"She isn't!" Archer growled, the room falling silent. 

　　"YOU are too emotionally attached, which is why you will not be present while I question her!" My father commanded through our mind link, obviously not wanting Abigail to be present for this conversation.

　　"The fuck I won't!" I declared aloud, pointing to Abigail, who cradled my little sister in her arms, humming soothingly to her. 

　　"Son, you will do as I ask!" My father's low voice commanded. Tightening the dark bottomless eyes of Archer on him, I closed the gap between us, my large body pressed against his. He may be Alpha and have a reputation for being a power-hungry sociopath, but I was bigger, and when it came to Abigail, I was confident there was nothing I wouldn't do to follow through with my promise to Damien and keep her safe. Even if that meant I had to dispatch this man in front of me and destroy everything he had spent a lifetime building in the process.

　　"I mean, it pops! Try to separate us; and I swear it will be the last day as Alpha!" I pledged sincerely.