Chapter 138
Ivan's POV
Morena's laughter echoed through the air, sharp as nails scraping across glass.
I stared at the pack members who had once been alive—Grace, Jordan, Tyler—their eyes hollow as dead fish, their movements stiff as marionettes. Black magic marks writhed beneath their skin, turning them into walking corpses.
"Come now, Thunder Warrior," Morena's voice dripped with sick pleasure. "Let's see how long you can last."
She raised her hand, and the puppets surged forward like a tide.
My lightning shield took hit after hit, electric arcs crackling through the air. Zeus roared in my mind, demanding I unleash full power and blast these puppets to ash. But I held the lightning's destructive force in check, using only weak currents to knock back those who got close.
I couldn't kill them. I couldn't.
Grace was Chloe's best friend, who had given her warmth in her darkest moments. Jordan, though once an enemy, had ultimately chosen to help us. And Tyler—no matter how much he'd hurt Chloe, he was still her father, the grandfather of my unborn child.
"Ivan!" Zeus roared in the depths of my consciousness. "This is war! This isn't the time for mercy!"
"I can't do it," I gasped, lightning trembling at my fingertips.
Because I held back everywhere, I left myself open. The controlled Beta Ethan seized the opportunity, driving an enchanted dagger into my ribs.
Searing pain tore through me. I grunted, my knees buckling, nearly collapsing to the ground.
Warm blood flowed from the wound, staining the white shirt of my ceremonial suit red.
But what broke my heart even more was seeing bloody tears streaming from the corners of these puppets' eyes—their souls seemed to still be struggling inside their shells, wailing in agony under the necromantic magic's control.
"I'm sorry..." I croaked. "I'm sorry..."
They pressed in layer upon layer, completely overwhelming me. I was forced to curl up to protect my vitals, my lightning power rapidly depleting through constant defense and hesitation. The wound in my chest tore wider with each movement, my vision blurring.
In my extreme weakness and under the erosion of dark magic, I suddenly felt a tearing pain at my neck.
Instinctively, I clutched at my throat, where the mate mark binding my soul to Chloe's was being crushed by dark energy, emitting a clear cracking sound.
The silver bite mark split halfway down the middle, its light dimming.
Panic flooded through me like ice water. What I felt wasn't physical pain, but the terror of our soul connection breaking apart. I feared this meant something had happened to Chloe—but then realized it was me who couldn't hold on any longer.
I was dying.
"Chloe..." I murmured, her face appearing before my eyes. I could faintly sense her emotions through the bond—she was running, she was crying, she was desperately calling my name.
I'd promised her I would survive. Promised to protect her and our child.
But I couldn't anymore.
"How touching," Morena floated in the air, laughing mockingly. "Look at this hero, can't even bring himself to strike down his own pack members."
Elvira also drifted over with a cold laugh, purple spatial magic spinning at her fingertips. "Lord Louis was right—these so-called 'guardians' are all too weak."
At that moment, a tall figure stepped calmly through the twisted space.
Alpha Louis of the Blood River Pack.
Rather than rushing to transfer with the main force, he studied me—exhausted and covered in blood—as if appraising a work of art. His eyes were cold and greedy, like he was calculating a prey's value.
"Well done," Louis said to the two witches. "But don't kill him. I need a living vessel to extract the thunder element. A dead man's elemental power dissipates with his soul—such a waste."
He stepped closer, looking down at me. "Pity. If you hadn't inherited this power, you might have lived a little longer."
I wanted to argue, to curse, but my throat could only produce indistinct sounds. My body was already numb, lacking even the strength to lift a finger.
Elvira began chanting, a purple magic circle unfolding in the air. All the controlled pack members, Morena, Elvira, and my wounded self began slowly rising, about to be transported to Blood River territory.
I closed my eyes in despair.
I'm sorry, Chloe. I failed.
---
Frank's POV
I stood guard on a hillside outside the barrier, watching the massive purple dome slowly rise into the sky.
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
As a veteran who'd spent half his life crawling through battlefields, my instincts had never been wrong. I'd seen this kind of spatial transfer magic before—the Blood River Pack used it to move prisoners and spoils of war.
And now, they were taking my son.
Paternal instinct overwhelmed fear. I let out an aged roar and charged recklessly toward the shrinking barrier, gripping tight the old, notched longsword in my hand.
"Ivan!" I bellowed. "Let go of my son!"
My legs pumped through the snow, my heart pounding violently in my chest. I knew I was old and frail, knew charging in might just be suicide, but I didn't care.
That was my child. My only child.
Just as I was about to touch the barrier's edge, a tall figure stepped calmly through the twisted space.
Alpha Louis of the Blood River Pack.
He looked at me like I was a foolish ant.
"Old man, you're too old for this. Go home and hold your grandchild. This isn't your place."
"Go to hell!" I roared, swinging my sword at him.
Louis didn't even bother dodging. He simply waved his hand casually, and a terrifying force shattered the sword in my grip. The blade exploded into countless fragments in midair, and that power continued unabated, slamming into my chest.
I heard my ribs crack.
Blood erupted from my mouth as my body flew backward like a kite with its string cut. The world spun, only the howling wind in my ears.
Behind me was the edge of Thunder Canyon's cliff, dropping away into endless depths.
As my body plummeted into the abyss, my gaze turned one last time to the sky. The massive purple magic circle vanished completely into the air, taking my son with it, taking everything.
I closed my eyes.
At least... at least Chloe was still alive. At least she and the child still had hope.
Ivan, your father is sorry. Your father couldn't protect you.
Darkness swallowed everything.