Canaan Club - 30. Chapter 30

“Who else could be calling us?” Andre asked as he and Rafe stood in the middle of the school’s administration office, which housed Gylarcan, Emais, and their assistants’ rooms.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like it,” Rafe pursed his lips. “If it’s who I’m thinking it is, then…”

He didn’t know too many friendlies outside of Beau, Toby, and Andre’s foster family. Which meant that whoever was ringing wasn’t a companion at all.

It hit the omé a second later, his face paling the slightest bit. “You mean-”

Before he could verbalize his speculations, a three-foot woman with near-translucent skin, leafy, curly hair, and adorned in a white work shirt and a green midi dress floated from her cubicle and over to the two waiting boys. The nameplate that hung on the corner read “Mrs. Fayetta Glana – Secretary, Pixie.”

“Mr. Gold and Mr. Watson,” she called from them, her voice unexpectedly deep for her size. “Right this way.”

“Do you know who’s calling us, ma’am?” Andre questioned, a nervous tremor in his voice. Rafe placed a hand on his shoulder hoping to ease him. “There aren’t many outside of a couple of people who should know we’re even here.”

Mrs. Glana waved off his concern with a reassuring smile. “Oh, we don’t take calls from unidentifiable parties, but we pulled up your records and both of the callers are actually listed as your emergency numbers.”

“You serious?” Rafe blinked. He didn’t know how to feel about that.

If there was an emergency, then the couple that had been taking care of him for the past four years would be his go-to.

“Yes, sir. Coincidentally, they both happen to be on the line at this moment, so we’ll need to separate you two so you both can take the calls. That is if you wish to.”

There was a bit of hesitation as the boys glanced at each other. The young wolf shrugged, but that worried look on his face remained. The blond shrugged back. Whoever was on the other end couldn’t hurt them.

Right?

“Yeah, sure. Let’s see who it is,” he turned back to Andre. “Details after?”

“Yeah, man.”

“Mr. Gylarcan is just beyond that door in his office, Mr. Gold,” the pixie pointed at the door to her left. “He’ll connect you to your call.”

“Okay. Thanks.” He gave his friend one last encouraging glimpse before trudging down to Mr. Gylarcan’s door.

He didn’t bother to knock. He wanted to get this done as soon as possible, and the feeling in his gut was a dreadful, acidic sensation.

Just get in there and tell them to fuck off. Done.

The office’s owner was there, his bronze eyes gleaming ominously while the sun poised perfectly above his head.

“Mr. Gold,” Mr. Gylarcan smiled welcomingly, gesturing for the superhuman to sit before his desk.

“Who is it?”

“It’s been a long while since I’ve received a call from the Coat of Wolframite, but I can’t say no one is more demanding than your father.”

That made Rafe blanch, shooting up from his seat as his mind began to spiral.

“Shi- Crap! He really found me?”

The headmaster neither confirmed nor denied, but instead softened his tone as his gaze turned reassuring, like a father comforting his son. “I’ll push this button and he won’t be calling this school ever again, Rafe. Just say the word.”

For a second, he considered turning right around and bolting out of the academy and off the island altogether with Andre in tow. Then, the thought immediately disgusted him.

No. No more running away.

He came here to get stronger to take the Coat down, and he was going to show his worthless excuse of a father just who he’ll be messing with in the nearby future. The blond gathered his wits and steely determination and sat right back down, stony eyes laid upon the circular, metal indent on the principal’s large desk. He knew it was a communication device of some kind. The thing that’ll connect him to his father after so long.

“Nah,” Rafe clenched his fists. “I’ll give him a piece of my mind. Hopefully, he’ll be too disappointed with me that he won’t call again.”

Mr. Gylarcan nodded before putting his index finger on the device and circling his finger on its surface once. A noise that sounded like a bubble popping sounded before the air went dead again.

Then, there was an exhale.

“Is this you, old man?” Rafe broke the silence.

“Raphael,” that familiar smooth, modulated voice nearly made the blond shatter, a wave of memories threatening to break the barrier around his mind. “It seems you’ve broken your record of staving off your duties. Four years is quite the feat.”

Rafe breathed shakily and forced himself to respond. “Well, just thinking about all that work helps.”

God, he hoped he didn’t sound weak.

Be strong, dammit! He’s not even here!

“Color me impressed then,” the snicker was sinister no matter how much his father tried to make it sociable. “Unfortunately, this little game has to end. It’s time to come back home, my son. As the heir of our family, there is so much work to be done.”

Rafe scoffed. “It’s like you don’t have eight other options to choose from. What about Sloedale? He wouldn’t mind being the center of attention for once. Or maybe Gabriel? He’s basically a carbon copy of you right down to your shitty personality. He’s been drooling to take my spot since we’ve been out of the womb.”

And bury the rest of us while he was at it.

“Oh, trust me, I know. Gabriel’s been frothing at the mouth ever since your extended vacation, but the boy is too brash and immature.” Rafe could imagine his dad rolling his eyes. “Your siblings aren’t as capable as you are, Raphael, which is why you must resign from that school at once and cease this shirking of your responsibilities.”

The man huffed indignantly, disgust clearly coming through. “You couldn’t even choose a human-oriented academy. Why must you continuously shame this family?”

“Because it makes you angry!” Rafe couldn’t keep from snarling. “You can’t do shit here, asshole! Here, I’m on my own. For good!”

Of course, he didn’t care about dishonoring his family and all that crap, but what he won’t let the bastard do was belittle his independence. But before he could double down on the matter, his father let out a soft chuckle laced with malicious intent.

“Then I and a couple of Sylvester’s platoons might as well stroll over and see how you’re shaping up there. Of course, leaving a few of your alien peers’ bodies in our wake. We wouldn’t want them polluting your mind with any of their filth.”

He drawled on casually as if he was only scheduling for a simple occasion on his calendar. Rafe’s stomach clenched, trying to get his fury under control. He glanced at Mr. Gylarcan across from him, who had an amused grin on his face. It was like he was entertained by the notion of Rhys Gold possibly thinking he could walk into his school and cause havoc. There was enough crazy shit going on here as it was.

Seeing that, nevertheless, gave Rafe the strength to make a rebuttal without shuddering. “Go ahead and tried it, bastard. You won’t even get past a single island.”

Another laugh was enough to wipe most of that confidence away.

“Oh, no, boy, that isn’t the only detour we’ll take. I’ll make sure to pay your little foster parents a visit and see how they’re doing. Perhaps they’ll get you to reconsider, yes?”

No.

Amidst all the fear, the blond was suddenly glad his father couldn’t see him. Blanching and knees about to buckle, wanting to beg for their lives. And that made him even angrier.

“You stay away from them,” he responded, his voice low and full of deadly warning. “Unless you wanna die that badly.”

There was a tint to the lighting of the room, wavering between blue and green. He knew it was emanating from his glowing eyes, ready to launch twin rays of vaporizing energy, but he was too busy seething to get a handle on his nerves.

“Beau Watson may have been able to best me before,” Rhys continued, seamlessly ignoring the threat, “but don’t think for a second that I haven’t brushed up on my combat skills since then. I know now that flying around and firing lasers like an angry child won’t do the trick.”

His voice alleviated into fake sincerity once more. “But all that can be evaded if you simply return to where you’re supposed to be, Raphael. Your brothers and sisters miss you.”

“I doubt that,” His son snorted.

“I’m serious. Even Sloedale’s been wanting to speak to you, and now he has the chance. Go on, tell him how much you miss him.”

Before Rafe could get a word out, there were a few seconds of shuffling and a couple of muffled words before a different, younger voice filled the line.

“Rafe? Is that you?”

Sloedale. Of course.

His younger brother had to have been nearby, on standby in case his father had to up the ante in his manipulation – guilt-tripping.

“Dale. Long time, eh? How’re you holding up the fort over there? Not as glamorous as you thought, right?” he sneered.

Before his escape, Sloedale Gold had been more of the ‘forgotten child,’ barely having any use to the company until the time called for it. He had to be ecstatic when Rafe ran off. Four years later, he had to be eleven years old now. Even so, his voice was just the tiniest bit deeper, and his vocabulary had been polished somewhat.

Just the way his father liked it.

Sloedale just sighed impatiently. “Come on, big bro. Be smart about this. Just come home and everything will sort itself out. Your leaving has changed Dad in a way. He’s not as… strict with us anymore.”

Ha! I’m not buying that for a second.

“Huh. All it took for him to see the error of his ways was for me to get out of Dodge.”

“Trust me. It’s much better now, but it isn’t the same without you, bro. So just come home.”

It sounded like Sloedale was missing his older brother, but Rafe knew better. He was now just another clone of Rhys Gold, master of Machiavellianism.

“There is no home for me at that place anymore,” Rafe muttered, sagging in his seat. “I’m not coming back.”

“Mom misses you.”

That made the blond flinch. A painful ache formed in his throat, but he quickly swallowed it down before it could spill out.

He wasn’t going there today.

“Tell that old bastard that if he comes after the only two people who’ve been actual parents to me more than my own, then I’ll gather an army here and wipe the Coat out entirely! Don’t call again!” he spat before reaching over and dragging his finger around the telephone’s circular surface just as Mr. Gylarcan did.

Said headmaster remained silent and watched Rafe sit back and breathe heavily, his eyes averted and downtrodden.

Just when he thought he was going to have an alright day, celebrating their acceptance into Combat, one phone call from his father had to ruin it all.

“That was quite the call. Are you alright?” his principal’s voice broke through his melancholy.

“I… I don’t think I can stay here,” Rafe’s breath was unsteady, a shadow of his usual gritty cadence. “My… My… the couple who got me in here. It was to keep me away from my psycho father and his company. But if I don’t go back, they’ll…”

God, he didn’t even want to think about it. Did he know Andre was with him, too? If he found that out-

“Relax, son. As I’ve said before, it isn’t the first time the Coat of Wolframite has called in. So demanding, those folks,” Gylarcan rolled his eyes. “Just know that I have a few eyes up top watching their every move. Beau Watson and his mate will not have a hair on their heads harmed, so don’t you worry about a thing. Understood?”

There was something calming about the man in front of him. Impenetrable yet peaceful. It wasn’t enough to get Rafe out of the sludge that now coated his mood, but it was comforting, nonetheless.

He shrugged and looked down again. “If you say so.”

-POI-

On the other hand, Andre had been placed in an empty conference room to make his call, Mrs. Glana working the communication device for him. Of course, his caller was someone he hadn’t heard from in months as well.

“Andre,” his name rang out in a particular Scottish accent. “This is you, right?”

The omé was taken aback. “A-Alpha Renkin?”

How’d he figure out his location? Did Jan tell him where he was? He wouldn’t blame her if she was forced to, but if he was aggressive about it…

“Surprised I found ye?” Renkin chuckled. “Thank my contacts for that. Beau never informed me about yer enrollment at Ironward until Axel struck up a palaver about ye still being missin’ and all.”

That put the young wolf’s worries at ease. His family hadn’t been touched at all. Although, a prick of annoyance welled up in his gut at the thought of Axel raving and ranting about not getting his usual piece out of him anymore.

“I don’t think it was with the best of intentions, though,” Andre replied, half amused.

“Any reason why ye didnae squeak up about it?”

It didn’t sound aggressive, but alphas, especially this one, didn’t have to express their hostility in their voices to get their point across. Still, the omé flinched. “N-Not really, sir. I just… There’s just so much to learn out here, and I’m finally getting the chance, but… I don’t think…”

“Out with it, laddie. Ye dinnae think what?”

Several seconds of hesitation later, he relented. “I didn’t think you’d allow me to, Alpha. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but omegas don’t really get many privileges in the tribe.”

Never has he complained about the living conditions of his home tribe. A major part of it was because that was all he knew. For the longest time, he thought it was normal for omegas and other lower-rate residents to be treated like third-class citizens.

“Dinnae presume to ken what I would or would nae think, pup. It ain’t yer place.”

The warning was low and stern, but the ball of righteous indignation that had been welling up inside his chest since he answered this call began to unknot.

“With all due respect, sir,” he kept his tone mindfully respectful, “alphas aren’t that hard to figure out. You have a better attitude than most tribe leaders these days, and I’m grateful to have an Alpha like you, but you all enforce the same traditions and rhetoric since werewolves popped into existence. I may be just another simple omé under your thumb, but all that free time leaves with watching. And to be honest, you’re not a whole lot special. N-No offense. Sir.”

There was a bout of silence, and Andre’s lips were pursed tight. From verbalizing his irritation any further? From squealing out a stream of apologies? He didn’t know, but the longer Renkin didn’t say anything, the more he felt like he was going to burst.

But then, a cackle rang out.

A cackle.

After all that, the alpha just laughed it off.

Andre didn’t know what to think as Renkin calmed himself down to speak through sniggering. “I can see the academy’s already whippin’ ye into shape! Where was all that sass in yer mouth before, my boy?”

The omé shrugged and responded in a dry tone. “I dunno. Rafe must be getting to me.”

“Tell me ye’ve at least joined th’ combat program over there. Their battles are broadcasted on the tellybox everywhere. Trust me, pup. Yer nae just a simple omega.”

Ugh. Of course.

“I, uh, don’t want to fight,” he groaned lightly, feeling a headache form in his right temple. “I am learning some defensive skills. So, warn Axel because his days of picking on me are coming to an end.”

The joke didn’t land.

“Andre,” the alpha was frustrated now. “If ye’ve been as observant as ye say ye have, then you’d ken that the Graybite are a symbol o’ power. The very power that is proclaimed to be the pinnacle of lupine brawn. You’ll need to represent us. For yer tribe.”

For a minute, Andre considered yielding. He was talking to the alpha, after all. And who could deny him? However, Rafe must have put something in the food he ate earlier without even looking because the next words he stammered poured out as if they could no longer stand to rest upon his tongue.

“I-I’m sorry, but no can do, sir. It’s already too late now. They’ve decided the roster.”

Another beat of silence. This time, the absence of amusement could really be felt.

“Pup, you will participate an’ represent yer tribe an’ race. Now!”

There it was. The infamous alpha command. Nobody at a lower status than the user, which was almost everybody, could resist it. The ultimate coercion magic, forcing someone into action until that said act is complete. Andre’s stomach dropped at hearing the animalistic growl and waited for his limbs to move at the wish of Renkin…

…but nothing happened.

He twiddled his fingers, dumbfounded but feeling a bit snarky as well. “I think that was supposed to be an order, sir, but I don’t think it came through.”

This time, the Graybite alpha could no longer keep his cool. “Andre! Listen, boy!”

The omé has had enough for now. “I’m hanging up now, sir. See you in a decade.”

“Don’t you-”

Andre motioned for Glana, who had been beside him, to hang up, and she did just that, her tiny finger circling over the round communication device on the end of the lengthy table.

“An alpha order,” he sighed, disappointment and sadness promptly washing away his earlier smugness. “He tried to put me under compulsion with his alpha voice, but it didn’t work. It should work even over phones.”

Renkin’s never done that with him before. Andre always obeyed the rules, but now he felt like a rebel. He blamed Rafe for this.

Mrs. Glana floated up and patted the young wolf’s shoulder comfortingly. “Oh, you shouldn’t worry about anything like that. There’s a barrier around the Ash Lands that nullifies any outside esoteric force that might be dangerous or harmful to the inhabitants. Is everything cleared up?”

“Yeah.”

-POI-

The two boys were back where they separated and relayed the last few minutes.

“Alpha Renkin,” Andre spoke first solemnly. “Found me but didn’t sound all that mad about it. That is until I refused to join the combat team. Sounds like someone else I know.”

When the omé nodded to Rafe, the superhuman only spoke two words.

“My father.”

Andre paled. “Oh, crap.”

“He threatened to take this place over if I didn’t drop out. He even said he’d go after Beau and Toby.”

For the first time in a while, those grey eyes, so full of grit, rage, and determination, were now panicked and anxious.

“Which won’t happen.”

They turned to Mr. Gylarcan, who had just stepped out of his office with a plastic cup of red juice. “The Coat won’t be making any moves against you, us, or any of your loved ones any time soon. They’ll be too busy with their own mess to focus entirely on you.”

“How can you be so sure?” Rafe sighed, almost defeated.

“Call it a hunch,” the headmaster winked, pointing to the ceiling. “And also, when are those families not caught up in some kind of drama?”

That was true.

Looks like they had no choice but to believe in the enigmatic man.

Gylarcan was beaming once again, placing hands on each of their shoulders. “Congratulations on making the team, Mr. Gold. And you and Mr. Watson continue to study hard.”