Chapter#50

Chapter#50
Leandro’s POV

“You’re not your father.” 

Mother’s last words rang in my ears as the misty valley of Ashveil rose before us.

Its gates open like a lover’s arms. It was a small city, weak in might but fierce in loyalty. Its wolves had knelt to Bloodclaw for decades. My knights slowed, their hands on sword hilts, wary of ambush, but I raised a fist, halting them. 

“Stand down,” I growled.

The gates groaned open like a beast waking from slumber. 

Elder Myrra stood at the threshold. I remembered seeing her years ago, when I was just a pup. Her long grey hair was still braided with beads, the same I had pictured in my mind.

“Alpha Leandro,” she called me out, “My grandson.”

I got down from my hound, and walked toward her. I got down on one of my knees, grabbed both of Myrra’s hands, and kissed them.

“What brings you here, my child?” She placed her palm against my cheek, and flashes of my mother crossed through my mind. 

I took a step back. “We’re headed for Ironfang City. I need your permission to cross Ashveil. I assure you, my wolves and I won’t cause any trouble.”

“Grandson,” she crossed her arms and then smirked, “This is your home. You don’t need permission. You can come and leave anytime you want.”

She waved a hand, and the wolves behind her surged forward. It was dozens of them. Their heads were bowed, and their arms were laden with tributes. Baskets of bread, smoked meat, and handwoven cloaks dyed in deep reds and golds. 

“You’re welcome to stay the night,” Myrra pressed as she moved forward and grabbed my arm. “Look at your wolves. Look how tired they look.”

“Myrra, I…” I opened my mouth to refuse when Rhea’s voice cut in. “These wolves show love, Alpha.”

I turned to face her as rage took over me, but she knew me better than anyone else. 

She stepped closer and dropped her voice low enough for only me to hear her. “This is your mother’s home. You always avoided coming here since she passed away. Now that you’re here, honor them for her sake.”

Mother…

Rhea’s words struck like a lash, dragging up mother’s face. I hated it, hated the twist in my gut, the crack it pried in my armor. 

“Just one night,” I snarled, loud enough for all to hear.

Ashveil wolves cheered and took us to the grounds where they had a big feast every night under the moon to thank the moon goddess for their lives and celebrate their freedom.

The square blazed with torchlights, and tables sagged under the feast. Wolves sang the Ashveil’s song, which was a prayer, thanking the moon goddess for everything she provided.

I sat at the head, Myrra to my left, and Rhea on my right.

Myrra lifted her goblet and addressed everyone. “To Alpha Leandro, son of Alpha Kael and my daughter, Lira.”

The crowd roared. Fists hammered the tables, and their cheers threatened to pull me under. I felt their love, their need… and it sickened me. 

“Enough!” I snapped, standing up. Everyone was silenced, and their heads snapped toward me. For a moment, there was only silence, and everyone just stared at me.

“Alpha Lenadro and Bloodclaw are grateful for your hospitality.” Rhea raised her goblet. 

I turned my head toward her, and she muttered, “These are your mother’s wolves, Alpha. They worship you. Don’t ruin this for them.”

Damn her, she’s right.

I dropped back into my seat. Mother’s memory slammed into me as they sang the song. I remembered how she used to sing me the Ashveil’s song every night when I was a pup. I didn’t want to remember her. But I couldn’t help it.

“Your mother,” Myrra leaned closer, “She made a huge sacrifice marrying your father.”

“Sacrifice?” Curiosity took over me, “I was told that they both loved each other.”

“Alpha Keal didn’t know what love was.” Myrra’s voice was laced with bitterness. A mocking chuckle slipped from her lips. “He was your father. I shouldn’t say things that might hurt you.”

“No, please…” I leaned forward, “I should know how they got married.”

She studied me for a moment, then gave a slow nod. “If you insist,” she murmured. “Your father was a ruthless Alpha. Feared across the lands. He killed wolves without hesitation, enslaved those who defied him, and burned down entire cities that refused to bow. And then one day, during the Lunar Ascension at Ashveil, he saw your mother.”

Her voice softened. “He fell in love with her voice. She was singing the Ashveil song beneath the moon, and something in him changed. He vowed to claim her that very night.”

I let a faint smirk rise to my lips. “Grandmother… that is love. He vowed to claim her, and he did. He married her. He had a family with her.”

Myrra’s expression didn’t change. But the way her fingers curled into the folds of her robe told me she disagreed long before she spoke. “Sometimes, my child… love is about letting go.”

She turned her face slightly, “When your mother rejected him, he threatened to burn Ashveil to the ground. Days later, her father’s head arrived at our doorstep… stuffed in a bloodied sack, with a note that read: ‘Every day, you will receive another head from Ashveil until you accept me.’”

A sick chill clawed down my spine. Theron’s face flashed in my mind… the moment I’d torn his head from his body. I shifted, trying to shrug the thought away.

Myrra reached for my hand. “Your mother wanted you to be a good Alpha,” she said quietly, “Honorable and respectable. Like your grandfather.”

I exhaled sharply, “And what happened to him?” I asked, even though I already knew. “He was killed by my father. Mercilessly.”

Myrra’s lips trembled, but she drew a steady breath. “Grandson…” she said softly. “I heard what happened at Silverthorn. I’m in no place to command you. But your mother raised you better. Just know this… caging someone you love will never make them love you back.”

Her words hit harder than I expected, but I couldn’t let her words faze me. Not when I was this close to claiming her.

“Stop,” I cut in, pulling my hand out of her hold, “Mother’s dead and her stories mean nothing.”