Devil Dawg Donnelly's
Standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people or actual events is purely coincidental.
You may contact the author at ulfr57@gmail.com All comments, suggestions and/or observations are welcome if presented respectfully.
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Part Thirty:
It was a little after midnight, what some called the witching or bewitching hour, but to Carl and most of the men in the Donnelly household that night, it was the Zero hour.
Just a few hours ago, Max Donnelly had broken through Elizabeth Dunne's defensive barriers and had gotten a detailed accounting of what all she had done, revealing the changes she had made in the sperm samples DNA so that it more accurately allowed for a more complete replication of her lover's attributes and the cleansing of her own DNA markers from the egg she had fertilized with it.
As amazing and brilliant as her skills were in accomplishing what she did nearly eighteen years ago, it was also reckless and more than a little terrifying.
It was inconceivable to them that she had given birth to an infant fully vested of its sires Heritage while simultaneously having never undergone its own, none of them could even remotely imagine the effect that might have on him.
It was also more than a little unnerving she had figured out a way to suppress the gifts of his father's Heritage masking it as a daily vitamin supplement that she had been giving him for nearly fifteen years now. The fact it was now starting to show signs of becoming ineffectual was worrisome, but considering his age, Max, Carl, and Hank all came to the consensus that they were certain, that though it may be a little tricky, they thought with their help and guidance it should be manageable.
It was during that discussion that Elizabeth had broken down completely, tearfully declaring she didn't need or want their help, that given time she could work out a solution on her own, that her son never needs to know about the Heritage, expounding again her fears about losing her son, to lose all that she had left of Bannor.
Carl was both surprised and impressed with the sympathetic way Max handled her fears, assuring her that they had absolutely no intention of taking Jason away from her, while also making her aware that the decision to undergo the Heritage ceremony was neither theirs nor her decision to make, but Jason's.
Max had pulled no punches however when he informed her that because of what she had done, he was now forced to reveal more to Jason than he had previously thought to do, stating that he had a right to know not only who his father was, but that Max was going to have to explain about the Heritage to him before his eighteenth birthday so he might better understand their concerns, not only for him but for the safety of those around him, especially now that the supplement she had been giving him was showing signs of becoming ineffectual.
In the end, faced with the fact she didn't at this time have an answer or timetable of when she might be able to offer a solution to Bannor's Heritage manifesting in his son, she had to concede, after Max outlined the many horrifying things that could potentially happen, that for now and the foreseeable future, Jason would need to be mentored and monitored by someone of the Heritage at all times and considering who his sire was and Jason's lineage through him, Max thought it best if that guardian was himself.
The concession Max offered her, was his promise that he would do his best to help her mend the bond of trust that was now broken between mother and son, repeatedly assuring her that it wasn't his or anyone's intent to take him from her, offering even the one thing that had never been done before, letting her come to visit him at the compound.
To Carl's knowledge, no woman had ever set foot there and he couldn't begin to imagine how those of the Heritage not in their immediate circle, might take that, let alone that of the Council of Greges, which Carl was certain would most definitely take exception.
It hadn't been long after that, Max suggested that perhaps Elizabeth get some rest, offering up Billy's room for the night, knowing full well that she would have balked at any notion that she leave the premises without her son in tow.
She had reluctantly accepted his offer and Hank had helped her get settled in, being the only familiar face she knew amongst them.
As they then sat down at the kitchen table to discuss their plans for the next morning and about how best to approach Jason about coming to the compound, Jake happened to poke his head out of JD's room asking if it was alright if they could all get some drinks, snacks, and do a bathroom run.
Max immediately gave them the okay, having decided now was as good a time to talk to Jason as any.
Carl was thankful and could visibly see the relief Max had when both JD and Jason asked if it would be okay if Jason joined them all at the compound for a week or so, or until he could come to terms with everything that had just come to light.
Having agreed that Jason was more than welcome to join them, Carl had handed the keys to his truck to Jason and JD instructing them to make a quick run, noting the time was about ten-thirty and told them to grab what Jason might need at Jason's house for a week or two stay and to get back PDQ so they could get some rest, that they would be leaving first thing after breakfast the next morning.
Surprisingly Max suggested that Timmy drive them, citing the emotionally taxing events of the evening might be weighing on Jason and possibly impairing his concentration, JD of course being intuitive enough to realize that what his Dad really wanted was to have all but the adults otherwise occupied while they discussed their next course of actions.
The boys had no sooner left than Max reached over and placed his left hand over Hank's: "How are you holding up old friend?"
Hank Bauers had sat there most of the evening, completely subsumed in thought about Jason and reminiscing about his former leader and lover Bannor Griffen, Max's unexpected intrusion into his contemplation's, refocused his attention, drawing him back into the present to stare thoughtfully back at Max: "I know it's not him Max.." Hank said softly before casting his gaze downward to stare at Max's large callused hand now gently cupped over his own sending warm waves of comfort radiating throughout him: "But he looks and even smells almost exactly like him..." pausing for a second, as the focus of his eyes momentarily glazed over as if he were trying to see something in the distance, before adding: "Even some of his motions are just like his, and his voice..."
Hank's eyes met Max's again, and smiled faintly back at him: "It's a lot to take in, but I'm getting there."
Jake had come over and sat next to his father putting his arm around him, in a show of support: "I talked to him briefly about his Dad and told him you were the one to talk to about him, he seemed very interested in seeing some of the pictures you have of his dad in that scrapbook you keep."
"Of course.." Hank had said, smiling broadly at his son: "I can only imagine how curious he must be and there is so much I could tell him..."
"All of which can wait for a more appropriate time" Max interjected, drawing everyone's attention back to the matter's at hand: "I think one of the first things we need to discuss is how and when we should notify Marshal Griffen that he has a grandson."
Hank's eyes had immediately grown wide: "Dear God, I can't believe I haven't even considered that!"
Hank turned to Max excitedly, his voice full of conflicting emotions: "Max, we have to tell him immediately, you know he plans on representing his territory at Billy's ceremony at the end of the week."
Carl had agreed with Hank: "Especially so since Bannor was his sole heir and his intended replacement as leader of his territory."
Max had eyed them dubiously, stating: "I agree Marshal needs to know, but I don't think you're taking into account how problematic the sudden appearance of an heir to Marshal's territory is going to be."
"Oh shit..." Carl had groaned: "Paul Lakatos." the name hissed past Carl's lips as the memory of his last encounter with the man flooded his consciousness.
Everyone at the table knew that Lakatos was named as successor to Marshal Griffen's territory by the Council of Greges after the loss of Marshal's sole, legitimate heir. None of Marshal's other sons had met the requirements to succeed him as a leader and it was decided that it would fall to the Lakatos family upon either Marshal's retirement or death.
"Wouldn't it fall to Paul's father first though?" Carl queried, hopefully.
"No..." Max responded: "Gerard Lakatos has suffered several health setbacks over the last couple of years and stated he had no desire to take on more obligations and that it would fall upon his son Paul to take up the mantle should need to arise."
"Why does any of that matter Uncle Max, you're the leader of the Devil Dawgs southern region, not the Griffen's." Jake had noted naively.
Max just shook his head as Carl attempted to explain to him: "Though Gerard Lakatos is a fairly reasonable man, his son is not. Paul Lakatos is old school, he epitomizes everything that is wrong within the Heritage and exemplifies how a large portion views the Codex."
"Not to mention that he has been expanding his inner circle the last few years with some other like-minded and unsavory characters," Hank added.
"Young Lakatos craves power and when all is said and done, it's not likely he's going to take the news of Marshal Griffen all of a sudden having an heir apparent lightly."
"Making Jason potentially his number one target," Carl concluded solemnly.
Jake had thought for a moment before offering optimistically: "Jason's strong and getting stronger by the day from what I can tell, and he's not old enough to accept a direct challenge."
Max glowered at him slightly, explaining further: "Jason is strong but he's also very inexperienced, his eighteenth birthday is just a month away, Paul on the other hand has years of training under his belt and you can rest assured the day Jason claims his Heritage Paul will press that advantage soon after his ceremony by issuing a formal challenge to Jason's potential claim of the Griffen territories."
It was at that time Hank stood up and proclaimed: "Then it falls to us to make sure we get Jason as ready as we can, Lakatos may have the advantage of age and experience on his side but he hasn't had the expertise present in this room grooming him either and there's nothing in this world I like more than a good challenge."
"Damn straight," Carl and Jake said simultaneously adding their voices to his chorus, while all three had looked to Max, awaiting his response.
Max had leaned forward in his chair his hands flat on the table's cool surface, his eyes two bright blue burning embers, smoldering with intent: "Then I guess we have a consensus gentlemen, now all we need is a plan!"
For the next hour, they put their heads together, laying out a strict regimen of incrementally progressive training that they would put Jason Dunne through, each of them having their role to play in getting Jason ready both mentally and physically for what they were certain would come.
They shelved their discussion when the boys made it back, Carl and Jake helping them to organize the various items Jason had packed to take along with him to the compound, before Carl ordered them all to bed, JD in his room, Jason on the couch, with Jake taking a spot on the floor in the living room, close to Jason.
Watching the two large youths interact brought a smile to Carl's face, as they joked and bantered back and forth playfully, like two old friends instead of prospective romantic rivals of Max's youngest son JD's affections.
It came as no surprise when after Hank bid them all good night, that Timmy Anderson followed after, leaving with him to spend the night at Carl's house.
But now, at this zero hour, laying there in Max's arms, his twelve-inch pulsating cock buried balls deep within him, resting comfortably and securely after nearly an hour of passionate fucking and now feeling Max's warm breath on the back of his neck as they both started drifting off to sleep, Carl's thoughts turned toward Max and him, going for a long run, naked in the woods before collapsing into each other's arms all hot, sweaty and out of breath and making love over and over again, under the stars in the middle of the night without a care in the world while the boys slumbered peacefully back at the cabin of the compound... one thought repeated itself over and over again...God this family could use a long vacation.
Early Monday morning found a still slightly aching Brock Gryzinski groggily waking to the slightly musky scent combination of the forest that surrounded the cabin at the Devil Dawg compound.
The smell was laced with a hint of wildflowers, morning dew, and... bacon.
The scent elicited a slight grumble from his empty belly as he woke to realize that not only did just about every muscle and joint in his body ache but he was starving.
Despite that, he found himself laying there next to Atticus Walker, who had his enormous phallus still fully embedded in his hole, with his left arm and leg draped over him, his warm breath caressing his neck as the morning stubble of his chin scratched the surface of his skin.
"I was beginnin' to think you were gonna sleep in all mornin'" Atticus whispered in Brock's ear in his soft raspy baritone voice.
"What time is it?" Brock responded groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes as he gave Atticus's cock a firm squeeze with his constricting hole, while mentally noting how rigid and firm his dick still was.
Brock was no virgin and he had experiences with multiple men during the course of his lifetime, but he had never known any man, with the possible exception of Max Donnelly, that could sustain an erection that hard for so long a period of time, especially considering the number of times he had orgasmed.
"Does that thing ever go down?" Brock asked playfully, as he tightened his sphincter once again causing Atticus's cock to throb inside him.
"Nope..." Atticus snarled lustfully in his ear, letting his tongue slip between his lips to lick at the soft flesh of his earlobe before his teeth nibbled at it friskily: "He likes his new home and he plans on spending as much time as he can there."
Atticus pulled Brock against him tighter, flexing his phallus inside him causing it to engorge even more: "As for the time..." he said hoarsely in that deep, gravely southern diphthong Brock was growing to like more and more: " I think it's half past fuck this pussy time or there 'bouts."
Brock could feel Atticus shift his weight as he maneuvered himself on top of him, shoving Brock face-first into the mattress as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders and chest, his knees and thighs splaying sidewise on either side of Brock's hips before withdrawing his dong a few inches before slamming back into Brock's clenching hole.
Despite the soreness of his swollen, aching hole from the sound thrashing Atticus had given it the night before and over the last forty-eight hours, Atticus's renewed morning fervor elicited moans of pleasure from Brock: "Be careful big guy, I could get used to this kinda morning wake up call and expect it every day."
Atticus growled softly into his left ear: "Oh, I think you can pretty much expect that's a given, but if it makes ya feel more in control ya can always make it one of them rules ya like spoutin' off every five minutes."
Before Brock could respond, Atticus pulled his massive dick completely out of Brock's clutching, puffy hole, hovered over his ass for a few brief seconds before pile driving balls deep back into the deepest depths of his taut twat.
Brock tried to wiggle and twist his ass around to secure a more comfortable position beneath him, but Atticus held him securely in place as he pummeled his hole relentlessly.
Each piston-like stroke of Atticus's cock ripped past all his defenses as he continued to pull all the way out before jabbing back into him.
All Brock could do was groan and moan, ofttimes gasping for breath, as the assault on his anus went unimpeded as the unrelenting ache in his rectum gave way to grunts of pleasure as the mounting waves of passion drove them both to the precipice of preorgasmic bliss.
Brock fell into an almost hypnotic fugue-like state listening to the rhythmic continuous thworping like sound that hissed air between the slams of Atticus's hips smacking against his ass cheeks, to Brock, each outward stroke of Atticus's gargantuan schlong comically reminded him of the sound a plunger made while deployed declogging a sink drain before being slammed back into him, with such force it felt like it was jarring his teeth loose inside his skull.
The passage of time became almost imperceptible to Brock as Atticus's pulverizing thrust drove them both inexorably over the edge into a climatic release; he had barely even perceived his own erection before the first waves of orgasm subsumed his consciousness until he felt the warmth of his cum spill between his body and the sheets of the bed as Atticus's driving cock spewed thick ropes of sperm into his bowels.
Each pulsating spurt of Atticus's throbbing member shot with such force within him, it felt like someone had shoved a super soaker up his ass and was firing hot water deep within him, each shot coming in rapid succession, over and over again, until their morning passion gave way to post coital euphoria.
They lay there, breathing heavily, Atticus's warm body crashing down on Brock's, the sweat of their morning fornication mixed together as they lay there together letting the waves of their lust ebb and wane, ending unceremoniously when Atticus suddenly rose off of him pulling his massive cock from his gasping, twitching hole until the enormous head finally popped free.
A rush of cool morning air gushed within his gaping anus as Atticus's retreating dong left him, leaving Brock both temporarily satisfied while simultaneously making him feel profoundly empty, and though he longed to feel him slip back in and fill the void it had made and left, he was nonetheless content by their post-orgasmic coupling.
"Alright, Gryzinski..."Atticus barked as he pivoted sideways on the bed before standing and stretching: "As much as I'd enjoy playing with your pussy all day, we got work to do."
Brock laid there, languishing in the afterglow, wishing for nothing more than to slip back into slumber.
Attics bent over the bed and gave Brock's ass a resounding whack with his hand: "I said get up Marine, it's Monday morning and your first day of training starts right after breakfast, so get it in gear!"
Brock side-eyed the hirsute Corporal dubiously before grunting and hauling himself into a seated position on the bed's edge opposite to Atticus, who was now on the floor doing pushups: " As sure as I am that you would love nothing more than to put me through my paces training today team leader, don't you think my top priority should be in getting the communication system and network set up today?"
Atticus stopped for a moment, sitting upon his knees to eye him for a moment: "Good point Gryzinski, our guest will be arriving sometime today and I'm sure Max would like everything you brought up and operational before they get here."
Brock nodded in agreement stating: "It should only take a few hours to get everything going, do you want me to hook up any additional lighting anywhere other than the communication center?"
"Not sure 'bout that one, I'll run it past Danal, but other than that I'd say leave that decision up to either Max or Carl" Atticus responded.
Nodding his head, Brock stood up to stretch with his back to Atticus, pausing only as he realized Atticus was still staring at him; he turned to shoot him a quizzical look.
Atticus locked eyes with him, a stern grimace on his face before he finally spoke: "Do you really think I intend to lord it over ya and bust your balls while training?"
Brock lowered his gaze thoughtfully considering Atticus's words: "Yeah kind of..." he exclaimed before elaborating: "I get that I'm the newbie and that I'm not like the rest of the team..."
"So you think I'll rub your nose in it or something like that?"Atticus interjected abruptly.
He didn't know how to respond, so Brock just returned his steady gaze, shrugging his shoulders slightly, watching as he stood up to glower back at him, his brow furrowing before he stated dispassionately: "I am gonna bust your balls, not because you're not one of us, but because you are."
Brock didn't answer at first, but in his head, his inner voice was doubtful of his sincerity; how could he, a regular guy compete one on one with one of them?
His inner dialogue reminding him how readily Atticus had thwarted his best attempts the other night during the hunt, and he couldn't help but wonder what Max was possibly thinking when he decided that this was a good move for him, yeah, sure, the sex was great, but seriously, the idea of him ever being able to match one of them in a combat situation was almost farcical.
As if reading his mind Atticus walked around the bed to move directly in front of him, his steely blue/green eyes drilling right into his: "I'm not gonna lie to you Brock, it ain't gonna be easy, you're gonna have to push yourself twice as hard as the others just to marginally keep up."
Something in either his gaze or expression must have communicated his forlorn sense of inadequacy and the humbling doubt he kept envisioning as he watched Atticus eyes narrow as his right hand lifted to jab his index finger at his forehead: "Your advantage is right up here, Max obviously saw it and Danal too or else you wouldn't be here."
The confident way Atticus stared back at him as if there were no doubt in his mind that what he said was true, bolstered Brock's confidence slightly, though the very same thing he just lauded was what was still forcing him to face the very real fact that physically, he could never hope to stand a chance against any of them let alone achieve some sort of equalizing parity with them.
All that said, however, he did admire Atticus's confidence in him and he decided he would do whatever he could to not disappoint him or Max.
Atticus sensed the change within him and though he was certain Brock's head wasn't exactly where he wanted it to be noted he was probably agreeing out of some false sense of duty to either him or Max, Atticus knew, after his conversation with Danal the night before, that though Brock could never match one born of the Heritage physically, there was a way for him to at least boost his own physicality enough to achieve goals exceeding those of other men.
Brock was going to take some work, Atticus thought to himself, but with him pushing him and acting on the info Danal had revealed, he was confident he'd soon have Brock doing what needed to be done and doing it for himself and his own sense of pride and not just to please someone else.
Atticus ruffled Brock's hair and gave him a slap on the ass before placing his hand on his back and gently nudged him toward the ladder steps: "Before we do anythin' else, I say we gets some coffee and food down our necks, then tackle what the day brings us, what do ya say to that Gunny?
Brock smiled, looking back at him over his shoulder: "I say there better be some of that bacon left I keep getting a whiff of or there's gonna be hell to pay."
After descending from the loft Atticus suggested they step out through the back door of the cabin and slip down to the lake for a quick dip to freshen up before they hit the bivouac for breakfast.
Brock chided himself for not thinking to bring a clean uniform to wear, noting to Atticus how he had done the same: "I can fix that PDQ" he said before marching over to the main door and issuing some instructions to the young private posted there, standing guard over the cabin while they used it for the weekend.
Brock didn't recognize the Marine that was standing watch and was kind of disappointed it hadn't been Barin Young, whose company he found he was starting to take a liking to; Barin maybe a bit on the quiet side but Brock appreciated his down to earth sense of humor and of course his Texan accent, plus, Brock begrudgingly admitted to himself, though not much taller than himself, Barin was quite the rugged, boyishly handsome guy.
Normally Brock went for guys much bigger than himself, but then there were those few exceptions, men like Barin, that he knew could rattle his cage any day, men that exuded confidence without arrogance and masculine through and through.
"We'll have some clean BDU's in a few minutes, probably just in time for us to finish taking a quick dip" Atticus stated as he opened the back door and led Brock down to the small peer behind the cabin.
True to his word, they had no sooner made it back to the cabin when the Pfc showed up with some fatigues and clean boots for them to wear.
As they finished dressing and headed out the door, Atticus instructed the Marine to get a couple of guys to help get the place cleaned up before their visitors arrived.
Though they both knew Max had loaned them the use of his cabin for the weekend, neither of them thought leaving it anything less than as pristine as they found it, appropriate, considering the generosity of thought behind its use.
After a short brisk walk down the path leading to the cabin, they soon found themselves entering the wooded area off to the side of the main parking where the team made camp, once there they soon met up with Danal Cornelious who sat at the campsites makeshift fire pit where another youthful Marine crouched preparing food for those that wandered in.
Danal smiled broadly and beckoned them to join him as he sipped a large mug of coffee while comfortably seated in what appeared to be one of the hand-fashioned Adirondack chairs usually found down by the lake.
Brock couldn't help but take note of the devilish smirk and mischievous twinkle in Danal's eye as he openly ogled them as they sat in rather close proximity to one another on a large log some of the men had dragged from the woods to use as a makeshift place to sit close to the fire.
"You must be feeling quite proud of yourself this morning Brock" Danal said impishly to him, his grin broadening slightly as he winked at him almost giddily.
Brock met his gaze and noted simply: "A little worse for wear actually Sir, but nothing I can't handle."
Danal giggled lightly: "Oh, I'm sure you can but that's not what I'm talking about."
There were about half a dozen men gathered around, all of whom had been either eating or engaged in casual conversation to each other, but now stared at him and Atticus as Danal had started to address the both of them.
Not sure where this conversation was going and mindful of the fact he now had to show a little more caution in what he said so as not to be perceived as speaking out of turn.
Brock turned to Atticus first, wondering if Danal was now somehow testing him to see if he could trip him up or not, either way, Atticus seemed to ignore the conversation as he eyed the bacon and eggs cooking on the open fire, leaving Brock to fend for himself: "I'm not sure I follow your meaning Sir."
"It's simple my lovely..." Danal chirped whimsically: "It's not every day one of the boys entrusted to my care makes the final passage into his manhood."
Brock stared wide-eyed at the handsome but grey-haired older man staring mirthfully back at him as he awkwardly realized what he was meaning and feeling all the pairs of eyes now on him and Atticus.
"I assure you Green Father I was a man well before I met Brock Gryzinski" Atticus stated confidently, his expression a blank canvas revealing nothing, his tone matter of fact and direct to the point.
Tapping his nose, Danal pressed on despite Atticus's assertion: "Physically that is most assuredly true, but traditionally and spiritually you aren't a man until you've mated for the first time, a subtle difference for sure but one everyone present can now testify as having happened."
There were a few nervous chuckles from those gathered which quickly ceased with one icy snarl from Atticus followed by Danal chiding him: "Don't be so uncivil, they all envy your good fortune and rightly so..." Danal winked at Brock again: "Considering the beauty of your catch, I would think you a bit more grateful and humbled by the experience."
At first, Brock thought to interject on Atticus's behalf but stopped short of doing so, instead, he joined the others as all eyes quizzically now centered on their large hirsute leader who glowered speculatively at Danal, then to Brock before, tipping his head in deference to the Elder: "I am of course humbled, grateful and honored to be joined to Brock Gryzinski." he stated simply, chin up, head held high.
The smile on Danal's face almost seemed to split his face in two as he quickly chimed back at him: "Then perhaps a quick kiss to show all present the sincerity of your words and devotion might not go remiss?" he posited, clearly backing Atticus into a corner.
Atticus glowered back at him for a moment before visibly gulping, turning and pivoting his head toward Brock, feeling every pair of eyes in the camp now clearly centered on the two of them, Atticus placed his quivering lips firmly against Brock's, kissing him for the very first time.
As the camp erupted into a few jaunting choruses of Ooo-rahs, Brock brought his right hand up to encircle Atticus's broad, thick neck and slipped his tongue between his lips to swirl passionately against Atticus's.
Far quicker than Brock would have wished for, their lips separated as their teammates surrounded them, giving them hearty pats on their backs while offering their congratulations.
Brock quickly sidestepped over to Danal who was beaming joyously at him as he drew close to his ear: "See, I told you he would come around, and now that he has had a taste, rest assured he will eventually come back for more, just be patient with him, he has the heart of a lion and the soul of a poet and sooner than you think, you won't be able to keep him off of you."
Smiling giddily back at Danal, the taste of Atticus's lips still fresh on his own, Brock felt a wave of warmth sweep over him as he came to the realization that he finally, for the first time in his life felt as if he belonged somewhere and knowing, with Atticus by his side, there was nothing they couldn't do or face together.
It was Monday morning. at roughly 6:45 AM at the Donnelly household, Carl McGregor stood there, leaning against the refrigerator in the kitchen solemnly observing as his lover Max sat at the kitchen table with both Elizabeth Dunne and her son sat side by side opposite to him.
Elizabeth had risen about a half-hour earlier when Carl and Max did and after a night of troubled sleep, Elizabeth had come to face some hard truths.
Despite her misgivings about her son being part of the Heritage, what was clear now was the fact that genie was out of the bottle and no amount of wishful thinking on her part, would ever undo that.
Jason knew about his father, knew who he was, and knew he served in the military, what he didn't know is what his father was and why what his mother had done, now warranted the concern of the man sat across from her.
Max had forced her to accept the reality that what she had done was now having a potentially deleterious effect on her offspring, she could see it too, had observed the effect he was having on those around him and most importantly, the measures she had devised to control those effects and their subsequent behaviors, were now becoming more and more ineffective.
True, she was certain given time she could come up with more effective treatment, but the closer her son was getting to the biological age signaling his rite of passage into the Heritage, the more his fathers DNA infused Heritage became more prominent within him.
As Max pointed out to her, despite her wants or desires or even her faith in her skills as a scientist, Jason's need was rapidly becoming an imperative; time waits for no one Max had pointed out to her and what Jason needed now was the structure that only those of the Heritage could give him, that and one more thing...
Jason sat quietly at the table, his hands folded together as he listened to Max outline what was to be expected of him going forward and how he now needed to move past the harm he felt his mother had done him by keeping his paternity a secret all these years, insisting now that he sit there and listen to her and try to understand her motivations for doing so.
It was clear to both Max and Carl that she loved her son, and no matter how wrong the inevitable outcome of her previous actions now played out, nothing changed the simple fact, that like most parents, she thought what she was doing would be in the best interest for both him and her.
Elizabeth knew now what Max was and how her initial reaction was one made from a lack of understanding, fear, and desperation.
Max was a leader, a true leader, not only by choice or by the environment he grew up in, nor the simple expectations of his parental or community influence, he was born to be one, made manifest and more effective by all those other subsequent actions.
She had noted such qualities in Bannor and after learning who and what he was, her knowledge of the evolutionary biological imperative became, even more, self-evident and despite her youth at the time, it was evidential to her throughout the high schools and college campuses all over the world.
Almost ever female she knew was physically attracted to men like them, she had seen it play out every time a female friend or associate would meet him, and despite knowing his connection to her, how they would consciously or subconsciously flirt with him, try, even only if it was momentarily, to lure him away from her.
Survival of the species, the biological need to attract and mate with the fittest male.
Elizabeth even recalled her own initial attraction for Max, though she was practically surrounded by likewise fit males and logically realizing her body knew on some instinctual level, that Max was heads above the rest.
How often had she seen the same scenario play out throughout her academic career?
Normally reasonable females practically throwing themselves at athletes or even males with superior intelligence.
As a modern woman, she knew that relationships were built by communication and a lot of hard work and compromises, but none of that negated the biological imperative, it was always there, seething right underneath the surface.
She could even feel it now as he spoke to her son, as he got him to do what no amount of pleading and supplication on her part had thus far accomplished, yet, a few words from Max and her son sat there, docilely obeying the directives of a man he barely knew.
It was true, she had panicked when she realized who and what Max was, but her reaction was one born of fear, fear of the unknown quantity and variables he potentially presented as one born to lead, but in the brief time she had been exposed to him and by the course of the actions he took, she came to see the true qualities of a leader, the same qualities she had seen exhibited in Bannor's interactions with others.
As a true leader, Max inherently understood, that the true test of a group's survival wasn't reflective or dependent on the strongest amongst them, but in lifting up the weakest, guiding and pushing them to better themselves thus improving the outcome of the group as a whole.
It was what Max did for all those within his sphere of influence, it is what he had done for those around him and for her son and yes, he was even doing it for her now as she was attempting to explain the fear that had driven her actions to keep her son from following in his father's footsteps.
"You didn't do it for me!" Jason practically spat, eyeing his mother like she was some sort of demoness: "You're a selfish, manipulative, cold-hearted bitch who thinks I'm just another one of her experiments that she can control and mold into what she want's"
Jason glowered at her, Elizabeth could feel the vehemence radiating from him in waves, his eyes burning with anger, and not since he was a toddler, Elizabeth feared her son might physically lash out at her at any moment.
A sudden low guttural growl came from across the table where Max sat as both Jason and Elizabeth's eyes turned simultaneously toward him: "ENOUGH!" was the single one-word command uttered resolutely past Max's lips.
Instantly they both fell silent, their heads bowed, in an attempt to avoid the expectant severity of his glaring eyes.
"Look at me Jason!" Max commanded, the tone of his voice, though calm and steady, left no doubt that Jason now had no choice in the matter but to obey and he did, though certain of the fiery stare his eyes would meet.
As their eyes locked, Jason's fears faded to both relief and confusion as what he saw reflected through Max's eyes wasn't anger or rage but concern: "Your mother is merely attempting to explain how she felt and how it shaped her actions, she is not attempting to justify them, she knows she has hurt you."
Max reached across the table and placed his hand over Jason's comfortingly giving him a gentle reassuring squeeze: "Imagine this Jason, what would you do if somehow JD was suddenly ripped away from your life and you knew you could never see or hear from him again how would that make you feel?"
Jason bowed his head slightly, averting his gaze once again as he pictured Max's scenario in his mind's eye: "I'd feel sad and angry."
Max squeezed his hands again: "Now imagine you learned of a way you could have some part of him back in your life, that you could continue the promise of his legacy at least in part and even though you knew you couldn't have him back completely, you could at least share the love you once felt with what you could have, that is what your mother has done."
Elizabeth had never believed that someone, especially someone from the Heritage could ever possibly understand what she had gone through, of what she had lost until that moment, she looked toward Max with watery eyes as his words, his understanding, and empathy conveyed what her aching heart could not.
Elizabeth Dunne made no attempt to hide the tears that ran down her cheeks, not only for what she had lost or felt she was about to lose, but for the comprehensive perception behind Max's eyes and the sudden realization that she could have very well misread those within the Heritage, that her grief for Bannor and the promising future she had hoped to share with him was in part her desire to be part of his family, a family she abandoned in the hopes to build her own, to selfishly control and resurrect the man she loved only to hoard his love for herself, to control what can't be controlled unless it withers and dies from suffocation, void of the freedom to grow and flourish as true love must.
Through her tears, Elizabeth now saw more clearly the pain she both suffered and caused, brought to light by a man she had just met only the day before, one who, in only a few hours, had discerned what she could not or would not face about herself for the past twenty years, a man who was a true leader, encompassing all that it entailed; noble, proud and most of all a man willing to bear the yolk of leadership, accepting the burdens of a steward and guiding the strong to protect the weak until they to could stand for themselves, no matter how painful that transformation may be.
It's why she know knew what was expected of her, when Max's eyes met hers before speaking to her son: "Jason, I think there is something your mother wants to tell you..." Max paused, nodding in her direction: "She has something to tell you about your family."
There was no panic this time, her fears about the Heritage faded as she came to the realization that she didn't need to build a family of her own to hold onto that piece of love she had shared with Bannor, she had needed only to embrace the one he had left her with.
Elizabeth Dunne turned toward her child, faced his questioning eyes head-on: "Jason, there is something you need to know..." her heart skipped a beat as she struggled with the possible pain her next words might inflict: "You have a grandfather."
"So, you're seriously considering going through with this plan of yours are you?" Heinrich Voigt grumbled, annoyed at his protege's petty impulsiveness.
"I am indeed" Ryker Von Krause bemused smugly, adding: "Did you think I would just let Max Donnelly get away with that little stunt he pulled, do you have any idea how much we lost when Gunther was forced to do that system-wide data dump when the Federal Intelligence Service raided our Qiagen facility?"
Heinrich glowered back at him: "So you're actually willing to put all our plans at risk just so you can lash out at him a month or so earlier than we have prepared for, how does that make sense?"
Ryker chortled arrogantly: "I think you're becoming addled in your senior year's Elder." he paused long enough to gloat on how clever he thought he was being: "Even if they aren't all successful, there's no way Donnelly can see what's coming if anything it will make him pull in his resources and bunker down, which only plays right into our hands unless of course, you're starting to believe this nonsense about his middle brat."
Heinrich snorted with a huffing sound, shaking his head: "He and that doddering fool Danal can believe whatever fairy tales they wish too, but that's all it is, wishful thinking."
Ryker smiled lecherously back at him: "Then imagine how sweet the revenge will taste when we strike at him on his home ground and his precious pup lies in a puddle of his own blood mere moments after his ceremony when the boy's at his most vulnerable and has revealed he's actually nothing more than the mongrel he was sired by."
Heinrich looked at him dubiously: "And if your people fail?"
"Then Max pulls his forces in locking himself and his inner circle there with him, making them easy pickings for when she's ready to strike, I almost wish I could be there to see his face when it happens."
Heinrich still wasn't as convinced as Ryker and still felt they should hold back until she was ready, everything else was just juvenile and petty: "Max is what's important, with his fall, the rest of our plan will come to fruition and we will gain control of his territory via our inside operative, why lash out at the other boy and risk tipping our hand prematurely?"
Ryker grimaced, his brow furrowing threateningly: "Because of that little meat sacks interference on Max's son's behalf, he nearly exposed our operations at Qiagen and caused the premature release of the test subjects, not to mention the detention of that useful idiot major."
Ryker snarled between clenched teeth: "My people have already tracked his location and soon enough, he will wish he had never been born!"