Chapter 279: A Proper View of Luxury
"Hi Harper, I’m glad you could make it," Darach said eagerly as Kyle brought me to the arranged meeting spot. To my surprise, he was alone, even as I spotted Damon’s weapon on his arm.
"Is Beta Milo not coming with us?" Kyle asked, a worried frown on his face as he glanced around the courtyard. I couldn’t see anyone else present, but I guessed Kyle could sniff out their presence more efficiently than I could.
I understood the reason for his anxiety; without Milo’s presence, that would mean Kyle was effectively the only person with a wolf who could protect me from any threats.
"No. Unfortunately, there are other matters that require his attention," Darach said with a sigh. "My sister’s behavior yesterday has spurred more talk about overthrowing me, so Milo needs to help me keep an ear out for any serious rumblings and hopefully squash them before they take fruit."
If Kyle was frowning then, he was almost spluttering with unease now.
"So... there are people out to get you... and you’re still insisting on giving us the tour? Alone?" Kyle gave me a helpless look from the corner of his eyes, wordlessly hoping that I would call off this idea. "Harper, Alpha Damon and Beta Blaise won’t like this at all!"
Needless to say, Kyle was afraid for the future of his manhood. Unfortunately for him, I did not care so much for it.
"Then I guess we’d better get started then, before our enemies realize we are alone," I said, biting into a slice of an orange.
Kyle let out a quiet groan of despair.
Darach beamed. "Excellent. Don’t worry too much, it’ll just be a quick tour― for now, I need you to familiarize yourself with different parts of Thunderstrike’s territory. There’s no better teacher than lived experience."
"Assuming we live through it," Kyle mumbled under his breath, and I elbowed him roughly, causing him to wheeze in surprise. No matter his personal feelings, he shouldn’t be running his mouth in front of Darach. To think he was awed by Darach’s words last night!
But I guessed his priorities shifted when his manhood was on the line. I had no doubt that Blaise must have sent him many threatening messages over the pack line when we concluded our conversation.
"I mean, sure. Whatever you say, Alpha Darach," Kyle said instead, with more contrition as he caught sight of my displeased face. Damon and Blaise were terrifying, but they were a distance away. Meanwhile, I was right here and I had no qualms about using my very sharp elbows.
"Lead the way, Darach. Where are we going first?"
"First things first, we are going to the church," Darach said. Kyle blanched, shooting me a cautious look, worried about my emotional state. After all, the church did not bring up many happy memories.
"Darach, I’ve already seen the church, and I won’t forget it in a hurry." In fact, I had seen so much of it in one lifetime. I would prefer to never step foot in that place again.
Darach caught unsaid words and hastily reassured me, "We aren’t going to go inside the actual hall. I’m hoping to bring us up to the tallest tower so that we can get a bird’s eye view of Thunderstrike first. That’ll help you and Kyle orientate more effectively."
Ah. Turns out Darach had a good plan after all. I nodded in agreement, and the three of us made our way to the back entrance of the church. Darach unlocked the gate and gestured for me to go up first. I raised my eyes and saw a never-ending spiral of marble steps. If someone slipped and rolled down these steps, they would have to be sent to the infirmary immediately, if not the morgue.
Next to me, Kyle stifled a weary sigh.
"Sorry that there’s no lift," Darach said apologetically as we made the long winding trek up the tower. My thighs burned from exertion, but there was no way I could stop― it would be more exhausting to stay still than to grit my teeth and simply finish the climb.
"Why isn’t there a lift?" Kyle wheezed behind me.
"My father never bothered with renovating the tower, since it’s hardly used by the rest of the pack. In recent years, only the more pious elders would bother to make the trek up to ring the bell for good luck, and that happens only four times a year to herald the change of the seasons."
Even though I was hard of breath, I couldn’t help but snort at Darach’s words. "I bet your father thought it was ridiculous."
"You have no idea," Darach sighed, and we spoke no more until we were finally at the very top of the tower.
I heaved a huge gasp of breath as my feet cleared the last stair, and I was rewarded with a breathtaking view at the top through the tower’s window. At this height, I could spot buildings as far as the eye could see, and the wind was a great comfort to my heated body after all the unexpected exercise.
If I looked up, I could see the underside of a huge brass bell.
"I can see why the elders would be willing to climb this far up. The view is truly splendid," I said, walking towards the window to suck in a breath of fresh air. I took out my phone to capture this sight, sending the picture to Blaise and Damon.
"Now we can get started on our lessons," Darach said, cheerfully clapping his hands as he began to point out what each building was, and how to differentiate it from the rest.
One good thing about Thunderstrike’s obnoxious wealth was that no two buildings were identical― there would always be something about one building that set it apart from the next.
Training grounds were easy to spot― they were flat expanses of land with targets and training dummies stationed at particular places, along with a huge track for pack members to run on.
I was just there at the main mansion, so it was easy to remember.
I realized that even the packhouses, which should have been identical, were set apart by their roof colors and designs. I wondered if this was because of aesthetics, but Darach quickly explained matters.
"Here in Thunderstrike, everything is a competition. Your contributions to the pack determine how good your lodgings will be. If I was not the alpha’s son, I might find myself living over there," Darach pointed to a gray building that looked more like a prison than a packhouse.
Kyle leaned over the window and frowned, his eyes seeing more than I could.
"It doesn’t even look livable! There’s trash everywhere outside!"
"That motivates pack members to contribute so that they don’t end up inside this place. Even if I wanted to change things, this has been woven into Thunderstrike’s fabric for generations." Darach shrugged, and I could only marvel at this stroke of manipulation from Darach’s ancestors.
No wonder Thunderstrike was prosperous, if every member was out there doing their utmost best to get promoted for better housing.
"Then, the ones living in the packhouse with a gold roof would belong to the biggest contributors?" I asked.
"Actually, they used to live with us in the mansion," Darach said. "It was meant to be the highest honor a pack member could achieve, and my father made it one. Those pack members certainly got treated better than I did."
Darach shook his head.
"The first thing Milo and I did was to send them back to stay at the packhouses. They were not too happy with this turn of events."
Somehow, I had a feeling that was a massive understatement.
"I won’t be surprised if these people are planning to cause more trouble at this very moment," he continued. "They have benefited more from my father’s and sister’s preferential treatment than the rest, and they would want nothing more for things to go back to the way it was."
"Now, we only have servants living in the mansion along with my sister and father, but we still can’t let our guard down. They can still be bribed or threatened. Do lock your doors and don’t open them for anyone that knocks," Darach finished.
"I see." A solemn mood enveloped us as I considered the gravity of my new circumstances. I could not afford to rest easy, when there were threats hidden at every corner, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
Then, we heard the sound of multiple footsteps thumping up the marble staircase. Immediately, Kyle planted himself before me while Darach tensed, his weapon ready at the fray. There was no way to hide in the tower, for it was merely a circular room filled with open windows and there was no way I could climb into the underside of the bell.
I wondered if somehow someone leaked the news of our little tour, and decided it was a good time to kill off everyone in one swoop. If we fell from the windows at such a height, not even a werewolf’s superior healing could save our skins.
The door creaked open, and I sucked in a breath.
