He glanced at the caller ID, his frown deepening.
Now, it was his father.
Taking a deep breath, he answered.
“Father. What is it?”
The voice on the other end was low and sharp, like an approaching storm.
“Lucas. Why the hell are you not at Ava’s funeral?”
A chill crept down his spine.
Funeral?!
Lucas’s grip on the phone tightened until his claws dug into his palm. His golden irises darkened, swallowed by an abyss of black.
“Father,” he said, his voice almost unrecognizable. “You’re part of this, too?”
His father’s voice was ice-cold, laced with bitter disappointment.
“Lucas, I’m not in the mood for your nonsense.”
“Ava is dead. She’s been buried. And you haven’t yet shown your face here.
“You are an utter disgrace.”
The phone slipped from Lucas’s fingers, hitting the polished floor with a dull thud.
On the other end, his father’s voice erupted in fury.
“Get yourself to the burial ground. Now.”
“Come see Ava for the last time.”
The air in the room felt suffocating.
For the first time, Lucas hesitated.
For the first time, doubt crept into his mind.
