Chapter 248
ALEXANDER
I released my grip on him just enough for him to breathe.
Barely.
He collapsed forward with a choked gasp, clutching his mangled arm to his chest as if that alone could keep him together. Bones had shifted where they weren’t meant to. I’d made sure of that.
He whimpered, blood at the corner of his mouth, eyes darting between me and Cole like a trapped animal finally realizing how small it truly was.
“Please,” he rasped. “Please… I swear, I wasn’t part of the planning. I was just following orders. I’m
a soldier. That’s all I am.”
Cole crouched in front of him, expression cold. “Then start talking like one who wants to live.”
The wolf swallowed hard. His breathing shook, pain stripping away whatever bravado he had left.
“Why did you take Helen Blackwell?” Cole asked.
At the sound of my mother’s name, something flickered across the man’s face–not guilt.
Calculation.
“She wasn’t the target,” he said quickly, desperation sharpening his voice. “She was never the
target.”
My chest tightened.
I stepped closer, my shadow falling over him. “Then start again,” I said quietly. “And choose your words carefully.”
His eyes lifted to mine, and fear finally set in properly.
“The Celestine Luna,” he said.
The world narrowed.
Cole’s head snapped up. Slowly, he turned to look at me.
I didn’t need to ask who he meant.
Neither did Cole.
The Celestine Luna.
My jaw clenched so hard it ached.
ດ
III
3 Chapter 248
31 Pones
“The Luna born with two gifts,” the wolf continued, voice trembling. “The one who heals life and sees. The one whose blood was marked long before she ever knew what she was.”
I felt something hot and vicious coil in me.
“So when you failed to take her,” I said, my voice deadly calm, “you took Helen instead.”
He nodded quickly. “Yes. Yes.”
Cole bristled beside me, but I raised a hand slightly.
“What do you need Luna Faye for?” I asked.
The wolf hesitated.
I grabbed his broken arm again and twisted.
He screamed.
“Talk,” I said.
“Blood,” he cried. “Her blood. It’s part of the rite. The old rite.”
Cole’s voice dropped. “What rite?”
The man sucked in air, sweat pouring down his face. “The Rite of Ascendance.”
I went still.
I had heard whispers of it before. Old myths. Forbidden things packs pretended not to believe in
anymore.
“Explain,” I said.
“The prophecy speaks of a Luna touched by both ends of the veil,” he said between labored breaths. “Life and sight. Healing and vision. The Celestine Luna is said to be the key–to restoring what was lost when the old powers were broken.”
My blood ran cold.
“Shadow Fang believes the world was stolen from us,” he continued. “That the balance favors packs like yours. Strong, protected, untouched by hunger. Alpha Atlas believes that with her blood, with the ritual completed under the correct alignment, the old spiritual authority will return to
Shadow Fang.”
Cole swore under his breath.
“And what does ‘return‘ look like?” I asked.
13
O
217
The wolf looked away.
I forced his chin up. “Answer me.”
“Control,” he said hoarsely. “Over territory, over weaker packs, over fate itself. The ritual binds the Celestine Luna’s power to Shadow Fang. Her blood opens the gate. Her life…”
He stopped.
I leaned closer, my voice dropping to something far more dangerous than shouting. “Finish that
sentence.”
“…her life may not survive it,” he whispered.
Something inside me snapped.
For a brief moment, I saw red. I saw my hands around Atlas’s throat. I saw Shadow Fang burning to the ground. I saw Faye bleeding because I had failed to protect her.
Cole must have sensed it because he stepped closer.
I exhaled slowly through my nose.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Our Alpha,” the wolf said quickly. “Atlas. He said if anyone came looking, we were to strike. Make the message clear. Make Alpha Alexander understand how serious this was.”
My lips curved into something that wasn’t a smile.
“Oh, I understand,” I said softly.
The wolf frowned, confusion cutting through the pain. “You… you’re not just an enforcer, are you?”
I straightened fully.
“I am Alexander Blackwell,” I said. “Alpha of Blood Crescent.”
The color drained from his face.
He scrambled backward despite his injury, terror overtaking him. “No–no, that’s not-”
“Look at me,” I ordered.
He did.
And he broke.
“I didn’t know,” he sobbed. “If I’d known it was you, I would’ve-”
O
Chapter 248
“Would have what?” I asked. “Run?”
He shook his head violently. “I wouldn’t have come.”
Cole crossed his arms. “Too late for that.”
I knelt in front of him again, forcing his attention back to me. “You’re going to take me to my
mother.”
The wolf’s breathing hitched.
“I can’t,” he said quickly. “I won’t.”
I tilted my head. “You think refusing will save you?”
“She’s at the Shadow Fang pack house,” he blurted out. “Deep inside. Guarded. You’ll never get her
out alive. And if I take you there, I die anyway.”
“You die regardless,” Cole said flatly.
The wolf looked between us, panic spiraling. “Please. I told you everything. Killing me won’t change
anything.”
I rose slowly to my feet.
“You’re right,” I said. “It won’t.”
Hope flickered in his eyes.
“But it will be satisfying.”
His mouth opened, maybe to beg again, maybe to scream.
He never got the chance.
I shifted just enough–strength flooding my limbs, rage guiding my hands–and drove my fingers into his chest, crushing his heart in a single, merciless motion.
His body went limp instantly.
I let him fall to the ground and straightened, breath steady, eyes burning.
The forest was silent again.
Cole broke the silence first.
“Alpha,” he said, his voice firm in that way I knew meant he wasn’t making a suggestion. “We don’t rush into Shadow Fang like this.”
I turned toward him, still staring at the lifeless body on the ground, my blood hot, my thoughts
13
O
縣
already racing ten steps ahead. Cole stepped closer, forcing himself into my line of sight.
“Helen wasn’t the target,” he continued. “That matters”
I clenched my jaw.
“They took her because they failed to get Faye,” he said carefully. “Which means they need Helen alive–safe enough, valuable enough to bargain with.”
I knew he was right. That didn’t make it any easier to hear.
“If Atlas wanted to kill her,” Cole went on, “she’d already be dead. This is leverage. And Shadow Fang doesn’t waste leverage.”
I dragged a hand down my face, forcing myself to breathe. Every instinct in me screamed to go straight to their territory and tear it apart until I found her. But instincts without strategy got people killed–and Helen had already warned me about acting without thinking.
“Shadow Fang territory is a trap on its own,” Cole added. “Always has been. Forest paths that shift. Old wards. Ground they know better than anyone. They might dress it up with modern politics and alliances, but at their core?” He shook his head. “They’re not civilized like Blood Crescent. Charging in without backup would be suicide.”
I hated how reasonable he sounded.
I hated even more that he was right.
Slowly, I nodded. “We go back.”
Cole exhaled, some of the tension easing from his shoulders. “Good.”
As we turned toward the car, a dull ache flared along my side where the arrow had struck me earlier. I flexed, testing it. The wound had already sealed, skin smooth again beneath my fingers, but the lingering soreness was a reminder.
This wasn’t over.
Not even close.
We reached the car in silence, the weight of what was coming settling heavily between us.
In the pack house, Cole stepped into my office. I could already feel the tension in the room, thick enough to taste.
Faye sat stiffly in the leather chair across from my desk, her fingers drumming nervously against her thigh, while Irene clutched a handkerchief to her nose, sniffling quietly, trying to hold back
tears.
→
5/7
O
30
175 Ponts
My mother was gone–taken and the weight of that reality pressed down like a vise on my chest. I hated seeing anyone–especially Faye and Irene–so vulnerable, so shaken.
Cole’s boots clicked against the floor as he approached my desk. “Alpha, the warriors are
assembled for briefing,” he said, his voice tight and measured. I nodded without looking up, my
mind already moving faster than my thoughts could keep pace.
Just then, my phone began to ring. I snatched it up, my eyes scanning the caller ID. I didn’t immediately recognize the number. The moment I answered, a smooth, controlled voice cut
through the tension in the room.
“Alexander,” the voice said, deep and sharp. “This is Alpha Atlas of Shadow Fang. Your mother is in my custody, and I was wondering if you’re in the mood to talk.”
”
I could feel my blood boil, every fiber of my being tightening. I didn’t bother masking my anger. Coward,” I spat. “The only talk I’m interested in is you telling me that my mother is back home safe. Otherwise, you’re asking for war.”
Atlas laughed–a cold, humorless sound that made my teeth clench. “I was hoping we could negotiate,” he said, voice deceptively calm. “I’m wondering… between Helen, your mother, and Faye, your mate, who is more important to you?”
The audacity of him. The insolence.
My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles whitened. “I have no reason to prove anything to you,” I said, my voice low. “And let me make this very clear: you have chosen the wrong person to try this game with. When it comes to my family, there is only one way–and if you touch even a hair on my mother, you’ll find out exactly what I’m talking about.”
Atlas chuckled, slow and deliberate. “Give me the Luna, and I’ll let your mother live,” he said, his words like venom poured straight into the room.
I turned slightly, glancing at Faye. Her lips were pressed together, guilt and fear etched across her features like deep lines carved in stone. She felt responsible, though I knew it wasn’t her fault. Shadow Fang–poison in human and wolf form–had already ensnared my mother because Helen had let the wrong person in.
Faye’s shoulders sagged as if the weight of the world had dropped onto them, and yet she tried, silently, to shoulder it herself. I wanted to scream at her to stop blaming herself, but I knew she wouldn’t listen–not now, not ever, when she carried guilt in her chest like it was tangible.
I slammed my hand on the desk, making Faye flinch and Irene snuffle harder, still holding her handkerchief. Every moment wasted on hesitation was another moment my mother could be in
danger.
O
く
“Mac” i art, my voce sharp as whip, there no negotiation beyond smidetate. If Helen is harred in any way you regret the bay pou were 77**
He laughed agar, but it lacked confidence this time. Even through the phone. I could hear the tremor of awareness that he had pushed the wrong man “Bold” he muntered before the line were
dead
I let out a long breath, the tension in my shoulders barely easing. My eyes swept the room agam landing on Faye. Her expression was miserables, quit growing at her from within 1 stood and walked over to her, placing my hands gently on her shoulders
“It’s not your fault,” I said firmly, though I knew my words would only partially reach her
Her head shook almost imperceptibly, but she didn’t argue–just let the weight of the words settle
in her chest,
I turned to Irene next, giving her a nod of reassurance, though I knew it would take longer for her to feel safe. She was more fragile in ways Faye and I weren’t.
Cole cleared his throat behind me, sharp enough to snap me out of my momentary lapse. “Alpha,” he said, “we can’t waste any more time. The warriors are waiting”
I nodded once, rigidly, and turned toward the door, Faye and Irene following me with their eyes. Stay here, I instructed, my voice cold and clipped, carrying the weight of authority. “Do not leave this room until I come back”
Faye opened her mouth, likely to protest, but I silenced her with a look that brooked no argument. She understood. She always did.
I wasn’t stable at the moment. My mother’s life was at stake. My mate’s safety lingered in my mind, I needed to do something.
Cole’s voice broke the silence again. “That arrow wound,” he added, nodding toward my side.” You’re still sore, aren’t you?”
I flexed carefully, testing it. Almost fully healed, but still tender on the inside. A faint ache reminded me that I wasn’t invincible–that even an alpha could be struck down if caught off guard.
I grunted softly, then shrugged it off. “It’ll hold,” I said simply.
