uncers 184

Chapter 184 

The club was filled with the sound of music and murmured conversation. But Patrick wasn’t here to drink, dance, or blend into the crowd-he was here for Marcus. He was the man who, according to Patrick’s sources, might be his only chance at surviving Alexander Blackwell. He had been told Marcus came to this particular club regularly. 

He had waited almost an hour before Marcus finally showed up. The man’s presence was hard to miss. He carried himself with the kind of quiet authority that didn’t need to be announced-just like Alexander. 

The people around him seemed to instinctively move aside, as if making room for something dangerous without realizing it. Patrick could see evidence that he was truly a Blackwell. However, he had to check the photo on his phone first to be sure. 

Patrick studied him carefully. This was his moment, and he couldn’t afford to lose it. When Marcus took a seat at the far end of the lounge, Patrick straightened and made his way over. 

“Marcus,” he greeted, his tone polite but still edged with confidence. “I’ve been hoping to meet you.” 

Marcus didn’t look up right away… it was almost as if he hadn’t heard Patrick. When he finally did, his gaze flicked over Patrick with detached indifference. “And you are?” 

“Patrick,” he replied. “Alpha of North Ridge.” 

Marcus leaned back slightly, unimpressed. “Congratulations,” he said flatly, then returned his attention to whatever he had been looking at on his phone. 

Patrick clenched his jaw. He felt insulted, but he knew he had to control himself. “I came because I believe we might have something in common.” 

“I doubt that,” Marcus replied without looking at him. “And I don’t do meetings with strangers who ambush me in public places. So, if you’ll excuse me-” Marcus got up to leave. 

Patrick took a step forward. “Alexander Blackwell.” 

That stopped Marcus. He froze for a moment, the tension subtle but unmistakable. Slowly, he turned, his gaze sharpening. “What about him?” 

Patrick exhaled quietly. “I know who you are, Marcus. You don’t have to pretend otherwise. Word travels fast when someone claims to be the true heir of Blood Crescent.” 

Marcus’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes flickered. “Be careful with your words, Alpha. You might not like where they lead.” 

Patrick allowed himself a small, knowing smile. “Then you won’t like where mine already 

have. You see, I’ve crossed paths with Alexander before. I know how he operates. I know how dangerous and stubborn he is. And I also know that as long as he’s alive, Blood Crescent will never be yours.” 

Marcus said nothing for a long moment. He simply stared at Patrick, and the weight of his silence was almost suffocating. Finally, he said, “You talk as if you know him well.” 

“I do,” Patrick replied. “I fought beside and against him. And I also know that he doesn’t forgive or forget. Which means if you’re planning to challenge him, you’ll need more than family blood and ambition. You’ll need someone who understands how he thinks-someone 

like me.” 

Marcus gave a soft, dry laugh. “You assume too much, Alpha of North Ridge. You assume that I need help, and worse, that I’d take it from you.” 

Patrick tilted his head, watching him carefully. “You didn’t deny wanting what’s his.” 

“I don’t deny anything,” Marcus said coolly. “But whatever dispute exists between us is none of your concern. It’s a family matter, after all.” 

Patrick’s smirk deepened. “A family matter? Don’t insult me. You and I both know there’s only one way to claim what you believe is yours. Alexander isn’t the kind of man who steps down quietly. You want his throne, you’ll have to kill him for it.” 

Marcus’s gaze turned cold. “And you assume I’m willing to share that kind of goal with you?” 

“I don’t need you to share it,” Patrick said, his voice calm. “I just need you to think about it. You might be Alexander’s brother, but blood ties don’t make you immune to his wrath. If you think you can take him on alone, go ahead. But when he comes for you-and he will-you’ll wish you 

had someone who knows the kind of monster you’re up against.” 

Marcus’s jaw flexed, but he said nothing. 

Patrick took a step closer, lowering his voice. “You think being his brother gives you an advantage? It doesn’t. I’ve seen Alexander fight, seen how he plans, how he waits. He doesn’t move until he knows exactly where to strike-and when he does, there’s no surviving it. If you go after him blindly, you won’t even see it coming.” 

Marcus finally spoke. “You’re afraid of him,” he said, smirking. 

Patrick didn’t deny it. “I’d be a fool not to be. But fear isn’t the same as surrender. I want him gone as much as you do. You want his crown, I want my pack to live. That’s our common ground.” 

Marcus studied him, silent again. Then, without warning, he moved to leave. “You’ve said enough.” 

Patrick frowned. “Think about what I said-” 

“I won’t,” Marcus cut in. “Because I don’t need you. Whatever I decide to do about Alexander will be done on my own terms. I don’t take partners, least of all, desperate ones.” 

Patrick bristled at the word desperate, but forced himself to remain composed. “You might want to reconsider when you realize Alexander isn’t as untouchable as he seems. Everyone has a weakness, Marcus. Even him. And I know where to look.” 

Marcus turned slightly, half facing him again, his expression hard. “If that’s true,” he said, ” then perhaps you should use that information for your own survival. Because if Alexander truly is what you say he is, I doubt he’ll waste much time before coming for you. You’re weak. 

He started to walk away again, but Patrick called after him, “When you realize I’m right, you’ll know where to find me.” 

Marcus didn’t reply this time. He simply kept walking until he disappeared into the crowd, his posture relaxed, unbothered-as if the entire exchange had been nothing at all. 

Patrick watched him go, his mind racing. He knew he hadn’t won Marcus over, not yet. But he had planted the seed. Marcus could pretend all he wanted that he didn’t need help, but Patrick had seen the slight shift in his expression when Alexander’s name came up-the hint of calculation that revealed more than words ever could. 

Marcus might be proud, arrogant even, but he wasn’t stupid. Sooner or later, he’d realize the truth: no one could take Alexander Blackwell down alone…he’ll need an alliance.