Post by Jack Lupus on Apr 30, 2007 22:35:43 GMT -5
A meek knock at the door signals his daughter’s presence. It does nothing to hide the quiet rage that is flowing off of her slender form in sheets, of course, but it’s the thought that counts, really.
“Come in.” His tone is indulgent, if a little bored. These little sessions have become an annoying addition to his routine, but one he allows because he’s convinced otherwise he’d never see his only child. He’s starting to think that might not be such a horrible thing after all.
“Father, I request council.” The formal tone, he thinks, is rather an omega way to ask for advice. Especially odd coming from his daughter. So shocking, in fact, he brings himself to look up from a pile of paperwork to give her a once over.
“Granted.” He responds a tad flippantly, mocking her submissive tone. She does look different, now that he thinks about it. Tired, definitely, but that’s normal for a teen who sneaks out more nights than not. More than that though, worn around the edges, a look that isn’t helped by the dark smudged eyeliner.
“My mate,” She starts, ignoring both his derision and the shocked look on his usually expressionless face. “Has abandoned me.”
He doesn’t know what to protest first, the fact that she even has a chosen or that the fool was actually able to leave. In the end he chooses the latter.
“Cassandra,” He rubbed at his eyes, dropping the formality façade. “If he was truly your mate, he wouldn’t have been capable of leaving. Wolves mate for life.”
“He’s only half ‘wolf.” She looks away to spare her father the embarrassment of having another sentient being witnessing the ridiculous look he’s giving her. “And he was raised by his human parent.”
“We’re talking about Jack, right?” He runs a hand through his expertly styled hair, instantly shattering the composed look he works so hard to cultivate. Of course. He’d been waiting for this day since Cass had come home from kindergarten with that mongrel of a boy. He’d thought that with Jack’s moving, he might be spared the trouble.
How naive of him.
“What do you want me to do, Cassandra?” He let’s out an exasperated sigh because, for once, he’s not quite sure what to do about this. His left index finger taps incessantly against the mahogany desk, an old habit that only comes out around his family. “Enforce pack law? Call a trial? He isn’t even technically Pack.”
“I asked for council.” Cass pleads. “Tell me what I should do.” Her father is at a loss for words, another first. Cassandra asking for advice? He’d better start selling his stocks.
“You want my advice?” A nod in answer. “Are you going to listen or is this going in one ear and out the other?” Another nod and:
“I’m listening.”
“Forget him.” He says ardently. “You deserve better than some half breed boy who has no sense of pack. Why don’t you go out with that other boy, Jack’s friend? He seems decent for the crowd you hang around.”
The boy, Cass assumed, was Xander, and probably the only full blood male her father knew. But Xander was safe in the way all other full bloods were safe. There was no controversy, no lack of fear of Pack law repercussions. Jack was more reckless and dangerous and interesting than most full bloods she knew combined.
“Thank you.” She turns before she can see her father press his fingers to his temples. He actually thought she might listen.
How naive of him.
“Come in.” His tone is indulgent, if a little bored. These little sessions have become an annoying addition to his routine, but one he allows because he’s convinced otherwise he’d never see his only child. He’s starting to think that might not be such a horrible thing after all.
“Father, I request council.” The formal tone, he thinks, is rather an omega way to ask for advice. Especially odd coming from his daughter. So shocking, in fact, he brings himself to look up from a pile of paperwork to give her a once over.
“Granted.” He responds a tad flippantly, mocking her submissive tone. She does look different, now that he thinks about it. Tired, definitely, but that’s normal for a teen who sneaks out more nights than not. More than that though, worn around the edges, a look that isn’t helped by the dark smudged eyeliner.
“My mate,” She starts, ignoring both his derision and the shocked look on his usually expressionless face. “Has abandoned me.”
He doesn’t know what to protest first, the fact that she even has a chosen or that the fool was actually able to leave. In the end he chooses the latter.
“Cassandra,” He rubbed at his eyes, dropping the formality façade. “If he was truly your mate, he wouldn’t have been capable of leaving. Wolves mate for life.”
“He’s only half ‘wolf.” She looks away to spare her father the embarrassment of having another sentient being witnessing the ridiculous look he’s giving her. “And he was raised by his human parent.”
“We’re talking about Jack, right?” He runs a hand through his expertly styled hair, instantly shattering the composed look he works so hard to cultivate. Of course. He’d been waiting for this day since Cass had come home from kindergarten with that mongrel of a boy. He’d thought that with Jack’s moving, he might be spared the trouble.
How naive of him.
“What do you want me to do, Cassandra?” He let’s out an exasperated sigh because, for once, he’s not quite sure what to do about this. His left index finger taps incessantly against the mahogany desk, an old habit that only comes out around his family. “Enforce pack law? Call a trial? He isn’t even technically Pack.”
“I asked for council.” Cass pleads. “Tell me what I should do.” Her father is at a loss for words, another first. Cassandra asking for advice? He’d better start selling his stocks.
“You want my advice?” A nod in answer. “Are you going to listen or is this going in one ear and out the other?” Another nod and:
“I’m listening.”
“Forget him.” He says ardently. “You deserve better than some half breed boy who has no sense of pack. Why don’t you go out with that other boy, Jack’s friend? He seems decent for the crowd you hang around.”
The boy, Cass assumed, was Xander, and probably the only full blood male her father knew. But Xander was safe in the way all other full bloods were safe. There was no controversy, no lack of fear of Pack law repercussions. Jack was more reckless and dangerous and interesting than most full bloods she knew combined.
“Thank you.” She turns before she can see her father press his fingers to his temples. He actually thought she might listen.
How naive of him.