Chapter 10 9
Darius' POV.
I just couldn't wrap my head around this. Just a moment ago, my wolf had been thrashing inside me. But the instant I touched her, it had gone calm, like it was finally at peace. Why? What was happening to me?
Her eyes shot up at me. “Get off of me, you pervert.”
I pushed myself to my feet immediately, but the moment I pulled away, the calm shattered. My wolf growled inside me. It hated the distance. I… I didn’t get it.
I just stood there, staring at her as she remained on the bed, her breathing ragged.
“Look,” she snapped, “just because you brought me home doesn’t mean you can touch me without my permission.”
My throat felt dry. I wanted to answer, but the words wouldn’t come. How could I explain something I didn’t even understand myself? That her nearness quieted the storm in me? That touching her was the only thing that kept me from losing control?
I couldn’t keep standing there like a fool.
And so, I turned and walked away, my heart racing in my chest. I felt so confused. I’d never felt like this before.
I ran a hand through my hair, and moved to the balcony for some air. The night breeze brushed against my skin, yet it did little ro calm my swirling thoughts.
Just then, I heard the sound of footsteps, coming from behind me. I turned around to find Darius walking towards where I stood.
“You look displeased,” He said as he reached me.
“I’m not displeased,” I replied. “I’m just… confused.”
“Confused about what?” He asked, though I already knew where this was going.
“You were gone for a week this time,” he said. “That was quite long. Miss Opaline was worried.”
I dragged in a slow breath, my gaze falling to the floor. “I know. She must have been worried. But I don’t know, Dante I was restless. It felt like if I stayed, I’d tear everything apart.”
“So you went to the woods,” Dante finished for me. “And you killed a lot of deer. Just to shed blood.”
I clenched my jaw, looking away. He was right after all. My wolf was bloodlust and I couldn't possibly kill someone.
Dante leaned on the balcony, his back facing the outside.
“You haven’t told me what is bothering you, man.”
I exhaled slowly, running a hand through my hair. “It’s my wolf,” I confessed. “You know how I always feel restless… like he’s always hungry for blood. I can’t breathe right most days. And no matter what I do, nothing settles him.”
Dante’s gaze flicked to me. “And?”
“This time,” I said. “I went to see Soraya after coming back. And the moment—” I swallowed hard. “The moment she touched me. The moment her skin came in contact with mine, it stopped.”
Dante frowned. “Stopped?”
“I stayed like that,” I admitted. “I just… felt calm. My wolf felt calm. He wasn’t snarling or demanding blood. He just… breathed. For the first time in years, I felt like myself again.”
Dante straightened from the balcony, turning fully toward me now. His brows pulled together.
“Wait...wait, wait.” His tone rose with disbelief. “You mean to tell me that just by touching your mate—Soraya, your wolf felt calm?”
I nodded. “Yes. And that’s something I don’t understand. We’ve tried everything, Dante. We've tried spells, shamans, potions, chains. None of it works. But when I just—” I shook my head slowly. “touch her, he's completely still.”
“Are you sure you know what you’re thinking? Maybe it’s the mating bond…” Dante said with disbelief.
“No, it wasn't just the mating bond. It was something more. I can't wrap my head around it.”
I let out a sigh. “I'm off to bed.” I told Dante who just gave me a slow nod, he was obviously taking everything I said in.
I walked to my bedroom and forced myself into bed, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.
By morning, I was more exhausted than before. Still, I dragged myself up, showered, and pulled on a smooth black suit.
I went straight to my office and sat before my laptop. Numbers and reports filled the screen, but none of it sank in. My thoughts kept circling back to her, and the pull.
I hit the intercom.
“No one comes in today,” I ordered flatly.
If anyone disturbed me now, I didn’t trust what my wolf might do. He was pacing beneath my skin. My chest rose and fell heavily, my hands curling into fists.
As I did some work on my laptop, a headline caught my eye.
‘The Patriarch Strikes Again.’
My chest tightened. I clicked it open, and a news video began to play. The video was live an hour ago.
“What did the bastard do this time.” I muttered to myself as the screen came alive with chaos.
The newscaster’s voice filled the room:
“The Patriarch strikes again. Here on Adiba Street, four werewolves were killed. Their hearts ripped out and their heads nowhere to be found. Research confirms the Patriarch struck and killed them mercilessly. This shows the Patriarch is still out for werewolves and will not be giving up anytime soon.”
My jaw locked as I watched the shaky footage of blood-stained streets and flashing sirens.
The Patriarch again. That crazy man.
His name was Patriarch Cornelius, but people had given him that title. The Patriarch was a very powerful human being. Rumours have it that he had the ability to do witch craft as well.
Once upon a time, werewolves and humans were forbidden to mingle. But then years later, the peace treaty was signed. We were now allowed to live among humans and work beside them.
But The Patriarch never accepted it.
He believed we were a mistake and an abomination that nature itself regretted creating. He said we should have been wiped out long ago. And since the world refused to do it, he took the duty upon himself.
He’s been hunting us ever since. He was so invincible that the police haven't been able to catch him for years. He always left no traces with his attacks. Even I haven't been able to catch him.
The Patriarch didn’t just hate werewolves, he loathed them. He killed my father.