<Chapter 162
Chapter 162
Draco stared at Patrick for a long moment, his chest heaving from the earlier clash.
Patrick’s words hung in the air.
Draco narrowed his eyes. “You talk like a man with a plan,” he said slowly, suspicion threading his voice.
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Patrick tilted his head, the corner of his lips twitching into a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. You could say that.” He reached into the inside pocket of his coat and drew something out-a dagger, slim and wickedly curved, its blade catching the pale light. The metal gleamed faintly, but there was something off about it. The closer Draco looked, the more the sheen seemed…
unnatural.
“What’s that?” Draco asked, his tone wary.
Patrick turned the dagger over in his hand like it was something precious. “Forged with pure silver,” he said quietly. “And tainted with wolfsbane. The tiniest scratch could slow down even an Alpha. A deep stab?” He met Draco’s eyes. “That would be enough to stop his heart before his body can heal.”
Draco’s smirk returned, wider this time. “You’ve been busy… you two-faced bastard.”
Patrick shrugged, sliding the dagger back into its sheath. “I came prepared. What? You think I simply came to warn you? That’s ridiculous. Alexander Blackwell may be a beast, but he bleeds like the rest of us. The trick is getting close enough to make him bleed.”
“And how do you plan to manage that?” Draco asked.
Patrick stepped forward. “You’ll lure him into the woods. He’ll follow-he won’t be able to
resist. You’ve seen the way he fights; he’s not one to retreat or think twice when his prey runs.
”
Draco arched a brow. “You think I’m going to play bait?”
“You wanted to make a spectacle of him, didn’t you? Think of this as the opening act. You draw him out, keep him focused on you. I’ll be waiting in the shadows for the right moment.”
Draco was silent for a beat. “I’m in.”
Patrick’s gaze hardened, his voice dipping into a cold murmur. “Alexander Blackwell dies today.”
For a moment, neither man spoke. The distant roars outside grew louder-the battle between
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the invading and defending wolves raging closer. Through the high window, the sky had begun to pale. Dawn was breaking.
Draco turned toward the sound and peered outside. His expression shifted as he caught sight of the fighting below. Strange wolves were tearing through his men.
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“Seems like Alexander brought backup after all,” Draco muttered, his jaw tightening. “Silver
Hollow wolves.”
Patrick joined him at the window, his eyes narrowing. “He planned this well.”
Draco laughed softly. “It won’t matter when he’s dead.”
Patrick’s smirk was thin and humorless. “Then we’d better move. If those wolves breach the compound, it’ll be too late to set the trap.”
“Fine,” Draco said.
Patrick smiled to himself. “Come on, Blackwell,” he murmured under his breath. “Let’s finish what should’ve ended years ago.”
Then he stepped into the mist and vanished.
Draco broke away from the clearing, his breath ragged as he ran into the woods. He had made sure Alexander saw him. He knew he would follow. It was the only card he had left to play.
He didn’t have to look back to know it was working. Behind him, the snapping of branches grew louder-heavy paws pounding the ground, the low, guttural snarl of the Blood Crescent Alpha in full pursuit. Alexander’s massive wolf cut through the forest.
Draco’s chest heaved as he reached a ridge and slowed. His fur bristled, fangs bared. He had led his predator straight into his den.
Hidden behind the thick trunk of an ancient tree, Patrick crouched in silence, his eyes cold. The dagger in his hand… one strike from it was enough to burn through a wolf’s veins, to silence his healing, to make even an Alpha bleed out slow and sure.
He’d watched the chase unfold exactly as he expected. Alexander’s fury made him predictable, driven by instinct, not strategy. He was powerful, yes. But power without control
was a death sentence.
Patrick smirked faintly, his grip tightening around the dagger. He had been waiting for this.
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The ground trembled as Alexander’s wolf emerged, his growl echoing through the trees. Draco turned sharply, fangs dripping, his yellow eyes glowing with defiance.
For a moment, the forest seemed to hold its breath.
Then the wolves collided.
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The impact shook the earth beneath them. Alexander’s jaws clamped around Draco’s shoulder, tearing through flesh and fur. Draco howled in pain and swung back with his claws, raking deep across Alexander’s flank, but the Blood Crescent Alpha didn’t flinch. His strength
was monstrous.
They rolled across the forest floor, snapping, biting, crushing. Every movement was raw and primal, fueled by rivalry and vengeance.
Draco lunged for his throat, but Alexander shifted his weight, slamming him into the ground. The crack of bones echoed through the trees. Blood sprayed across the leaves as Draco tried to twist away, but Alexander was faster. He clamped down on his neck, pressing until Draco’s growl turned into a choked whimper.
Patrick watched from his hiding spot. Draco was losing… and fast.
Alexander lifted his head, towering over Draco’s broken form. His crimson eyes glowed brighter, his chest heaving. Victory was close. He could taste it.
That was when Patrick moved.
He stepped out from behind the tree, his boots silent against the earth.
Alexander turned sharply, nostrils flaring as his gaze fell on him. Recognition flickered across his eyes. His growl softened… confused. Patrick. He was supposed to be on his side.
Patrick’s voice cut through the night, calm and steady. “You’re stronger than I thought,
Alexander.”
The wolf snarled low but didn’t attack.
Patrick took another step forward. “I told Draco he was a fool for provoking you. You’re not the kind of Alpha you trap in your den… you’re the kind you bury six feet under it.”
Alexander tilted his head slightly, his instincts screaming that something was off… but he was fighting to stay in control.
Patrick smiled faintly. “I’m on your side.”
And in that single breath of hesitation… Patrick struck.
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The dagger emerged… and in a second, it was buried deep into Alexander’s side, sliding between his ribs and into flesh.
The wolf let out a deep groan… a sound so fierce the trees seemed to tremble. His body convulsed as the poison laced into his veins, burning through his system like wildfire.
Patrick stepped back, his breathing steady, his face lit by the faint gleam of satisfaction.
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Alexander staggered, struggling to turn, his eyes locked on Patrick. His growl was weaker
now.
“You…” His voice cracked between human and beast, but Patrick only lifted the dagger, glinting with Alexander’s blood.
“You won’t survive this one,” Patrick said coolly. “That dagger’s made of silver and coated with wolfsbane. You won’t heal-not before your heart stops. Even an Alpha can’t cheat
death.”
Behind him, Draco groaned, trying to lift himself from the ground. Patrick turned and helped
him to his feet.
Draco’s wolf form shimmered, his body shifting painfully back into his human one. He was covered in blood, his breathing uneven, but his eyes gleamed with cruel amusement.
“Is it done?” Draco rasped.
Patrick nodded, wiping the blade on his sleeve. “He’s finished. Let’s go.”
Draco smirked weakly. “You see? Even the mighty Blood Crescent Alpha can fall. Maybe I’ll
make a throne out of his bones when I’m done with Jason.”
Patrick didn’t reply. He turned to leave, supporting Draco’s weight as they started through the
trees.
But behind them, a low growl rumbled through the forest again… deeper, angrier.
They both froze.
Alexander, still on the ground, blood streaming from his wound, was staring at them. His eyes burned. His breath came in ragged gasps, but he wasn’t down yet.
With the last strength left in him, he pushed himself up. His claws dug into the dirt, his body trembling. The poison was working fast, but the beast inside him refused to die quietly.
He snarled once, low and guttural, and then launched himself forward.
Patrick barely managed to jump aside as Alexander crashed into Draco. The impact threw
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them both to the ground again. Draco screamed, his ribs snapping under the weight of the blow. Alexander tore into him-claws ripping through flesh, fangs sinking deep into his throat.
Draco’s howl was cut short. The sound turned into a gurgle, then silence.
When Patrick turned back, all that was left was Alexander, standing over Draco’s mangled corpse, blood dripping from his jaws. His chest heaved, his fur stained with crimson.
Patrick’s eyes widened as Alexander looked up at him. He could imagine the wolf smirking- because even dying, Alexander had won.
Patrick stumbled back, retreating into the trees. He wasn’t foolish enough to test fate twice.
The forest went still again.
Alexander’s form trembled as he shifted back to human, collapsing to one knee. The poison had spread through his veins now, the wound in his side glowing faintly where the silver burned his skin. Sweat poured down his face.
He pressed a shaking hand to the wound, watching the blood pulse between his fingers. Normally, his body would have already started to knit itself back together. But this time, nothing happened.
He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to breathe through the pain. He wasn’t going to die here. Not like this. Not in the dirt like a rogue.
He turned toward Draco’s body, then reached down and grabbed him by the hair. The head came free with one final twist of strength. Alexander staggered, swaying on his feet, but held the head tight in his hand.
He began the long walk back through the trees, every step leaving a trail of blood.
The sounds of battle still echoed faintly in the distance-snarls, howls, steel clashing. He followed the noise, dragging Draco’s severed head behind him.
When he finally broke through the tree line, the clearing came into view again-Silver Hollow and Moon Claw wolves locked in brutal combat.
Bodies littered the ground.
Alexander stopped at the edge of the chaos, his breathing shallow. But somewhere deep inside, he held himself together.
He closed his eyes and summoned it one last time. The power surged through him, burning what little strength he had left. His spine arched, and his chest expanded as he tilted his head to the sky-and howled.
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The sound tore through the day like thunder. It wasn’t just a howl-it was a command. An Alpha’s decree.
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Every wolf froze-Silver Hollow, Moon Claw. The battlefield went still, the sound reverberating through every tree, every drop of blood in their veins.
And then, as the echo faded, Alexander threw Draco’s head forward.
It rolled across the dirt, stopping at the feet of the nearest Moon Claw soldier. The sight of it -their Alpha’s lifeless eyes staring up at them-sent a ripple through their ranks.
There was silence. Then, one by one, the Moon Claw wolves lowered themselves to the ground-heads bowed, tails tucked in submission.
Their Alpha was dead. His killer now ruled them… as it had always been.
Alexander stood there, chest heaving, his skin glistening with sweat and blood. His eyes flicked toward the Silver Hollow wolves still panting from the fight.
They exchanged uneasy glances. The battle was over, whether they liked it or not.
They had no right to keep fighting… Moon Claw was under a new Alpha now-an Alpha who was an ally.
One by one, reluctantly, the Silver Hollow wolves stepped back…
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