Bernael's POV

　　I'd challenge anyone to find a better armoury than what stands before me. Lucifer, Zeus and even the almighty angels would struggle to compete with my compilation of ancient and modern-day deadly weapons that line my walls. Running my fingers over the cool metal of a sword, a sense of satisfaction washed over me; it had taken me years to cultivate my collection. 

　　Looking down at my son, who was panting pathetically, I found myself snarling at him in disgust. He had always had so much potential; his ability to shut off from his humanity and get shit done was his biggest strength! We had spent years studying the world's monsters; he knew to research and investigate them before striking! Learn what made them tick and what made them weak, then use that knowledge to destroy or manipulate. 

　　Which is what I had tasked him to do with Abigail. I needed her to take her place by my side like my son and be an asset to this family. Given her mother's hatred and fear of me, I knew she would never come willingly. Damien was meant to charm her like all the others, but it seems my orders had gotten lost in translation because he hadn't enticed her so much as she had bewitched him! 

　　"My son, pussy whipped", I snarled nastily, eyeing the weapon I was looking for; I smirked in approval of the beauty in my hand. Running my fingers along the long glass blade, it shimmered gold under my touch, desperate to see my life force coat the blade and feed its lust for angelic blood. Even a dark angel! 

　　Damien may be part Werewolf on his mother's side, but he is still my son, which means angelic blood should still course through his veins; I have often wondered if he was more demon than a fallen warrior or had he become an entirely new sepsis altogether! I often played with the thought that the demonic blood I fed his mother during her pregnancy and Damien throughout his life might have just diluted his angelic blood enough for this blade to no longer recognise his divinity! 

　　There was only one way to find out. 

　　Locking my eyes on my son, I brought the blade down repeatedly on his torso, his wolf might think I wouldn't hurt him, but he was wrong. Damien has disobeyed me, shamed me, brought disorder into our lives and fucked my only daughter! I had been cursed with many sons throughout the years; none had impressed me enough to mentor except Damien, and yet Abigail, my only daughter, was to be my shiny jewel.

　　Admittedly I wasn't feeling particularly fatherly towards the girl and didn't give two shits who she took to her bed... but I am assuming her brother would not be on her short list to bed! Which means when she finds out her brother has deceived and bedded her, shit would hit the fan, and I would be forced to show my hand, a play a card I hoped to use later.

　　My son's painful screams as the skin on his body tore pleased me; standing back, I observed his body, wondering what the outcome of my experiment would be! If he does not recover, then he is more angel than demon! Walking over to the cushioned chairs by the bookcase, I rested the blade on the side and rolled the sleeves of my crisp black shirt; sitting, I watched my son roll around the floor in his crimson blood, resembling a pig rolling in mud. 

　　But I knew the searing pain the angelic blades inflicted; they turned your blood to lava, burning its way through your shrinking veins. It was agony. But so was listening to him scream like a banshee; seriously, this girl was turning him into a sap! 

　　With a final grunt, he stilled, and silence quickly fell in the room; sitting forward in my seat, I narrowed my eyes on my son to see the results of my experiment, but in the position he was in, I couldn't see anything, sighing I stood and worked my way over to him, stepping beside his limp body I bent down to roll him over I froze.. the blindfold was gone. In its place, a pair of red eyes stared up at me, outraged.

　　"RUN!" A deep growl vibrated from Damien's throat, but just as it wasn't my son's eyes staring back at me, it wasn't his voice either. Dropping my eyes to my son's side, I noted the faint cut that stretched the length of his torso, giving me the answers I wanted. 

　　"You don't scare me!" I sneered, looking down at my son's face, bringing my foot back, hoisting my knee up, I brought it crashing down on his rib cage. A wicked grin slipped onto my face hearing the brutal crack of his ribs under the pressure of my boot. 

　　"Let's see how quick you heal bones, shall we wolfie!" I smiled, launching a second assault on his leg, grinning seeing it snap in the opposite direction, bone tearing through flesh and exposing itself; even in the dimly lit room, I could see that it was a savage break that if he had been human would have taken months to heal. My son, it seemed, recovered in a matter of seconds as his bone snapped back into place, the fibres of his skin repairing, leaving no trace of an open wound. The only sign of the damage I had inflicted was the blood that stained his skin.

　　"Interesting!" I announced, turning my back on my son calmly, unfazed by the snarl that left his lips. 

　　"You think turning your back on me is a good idea?" The wolf I knew was named Ares, forced out through his apparent fury. 

　　"Why? Do you plan to kill me?" I chortled, disappearing into the armoury again, running my hands over the weapons until I found what I was looking for. A sly grin pulled at the corners of my lips; with my new toy hanging at my hip, I turned and came face to face with the angry face of my favourite son. However, he clearly was not in control right now, although seemingly present. 

　　"It would be precisely what you deserve." He grunted. "That blade could have killed him!" Bored by his need to state the obvious, I nodded to him, agreeing with his statement. Fury exploded on his face, and a vicious growl slipped from his throat, making me laugh.

　　"But it didn't!" I admitted pushing him aside with my hand effortlessly; I walked out of the office; keeping my body relaxed, I forced myself to seem unimpressed by his little tantrum. 

　　"Wolves, so predictable!" I sniggered, knowing he was about to prove my point. I could hear Damien through their bond telling him to stay calm,  but it was too late. Ares was already enraged and acting on the adrenaline he felt coursing through his body.

　　"1...2...3..." I counted in my head, unsurprisingly on cue; he took the bait and lunged at me. Walking straight into the trap I had laid at his feet. 

　　Flicking my wrist, the lasso I had in my hand that had not only been soaked in wolfsbane but also had its potent flowers entwined in the very fabric of the cord that was flying through the air; even with his attempt to dodge found its target. 

　　Ares in the body of my son crumpled to the floor, howling in discomfort and distress as I tugged the rope forcefully. I watched as his fingers grappled to loosen the bind that constricted him, only to pull his burning fingers away.

　　"Like I said... Predictable!" I grinned triumphantly.