Chapter 23 : Bound by Blood, Torn by Desire
Alpha Demetrius stood unmoved, his mismatched eyes—one as cold as winter, the other burning like embers—locked onto High Lord Rhovan. His presence alone silenced the crowd.
He took a slow step forward. The faint sound of his boots against the marble floor was the only noise in the vast space.
“I will do nothing,” he repeated. His voice was calm, but laced with authority.
A murmur rippled through the gathered Alphas. Some shifted uncomfortably. Others clenched their fists, bristling at his defiance.
Alpha Valren sneered. “So, the infamous Ravenwood Alpha finally graces us with his presence.”
His voice dripped with mockery. “Tell me, Demetrius , was it cowardice or arrogance that kept you away?”
Demetrius didn’t even spare him a glance. Instead, he walked past them all, stopping only when he stood directly in front of High Lord Rhovan. The tension was a coiled snake, waiting to strike.
“You would cast my pack into exile?” Demitrius asked, tilting his head slightly. “For what, exactly?”
Rhovan’s jaw tightened. “You broke the sacred unity between the packs.”
“You have disrespected our traditions, refused to host a proper celebration, and raised your hand against another Alpha.”
“These are crimes that—”
Demetrius chuckled, low and humorless. “Crimes?”
He took another step forward, lowering his voice so that only Rhovan could hear. “Shall we speak of crimes, High Lord?”
Rhovan stiffened.
Demetrius didn’t blink. “Or shall we remind everyone here of the debts of blood that have yet to be paid?”
A sharp inhale from the High Lord. His fingers twitched.
Demetrius smiled—slow, dangerous.
He finally turned to the gathered Alphas. “You speak of unity, yet all I see are cowards,” he said smoothly.
“You claim this celebration should be joyful, yet you came here expecting to sink your claws into my territory like vultures to a dying beast.”
A few shifted uncomfortably. They had indeed come with their own ambitions, hoping to weaken the Ravenwood Pack’s standing.
Demetrius let the silence stretch, then exhaled softly.
“I did not strike first.” The words were measured, intentional.
“I did not seek war.”
A pause.
“But if you mean to bring it to my gates—”
His gaze swept over them, slow and deliberate.
“Then I will answer.”
A pulse of power surged from him.
The air itself seemed to grow heavier.
The Alphas felt it. Their wolves bristled in instinctive submission.
Demetrius let the weight of his words settle before speaking again, quieter now.
“You would banish my pack from your lands?” His lips curled slightly.
“Do it, then.”
“But understand this—when the time comes, and the war you invite devours you, do not crawl to my doorstep for salvation.”
Silence.
Then—
“I second the motion,” High Lord Gerrick suddenly said. His deep voice was steady.
Heads whipped toward him.
He leaned forward, fingers steepled. “Banishment is a waste of resources.”
“The Ravenwood Pack holds territory that is… advantageous.”
“Perhaps we should not be so quick to burn the bridge.”
Demetrius smiled inwardly.
Gerrick was no fool.
He knew that cutting off ties with Demetrius entirely would be a mistake.
Rhovan, clearly furious but restrained, exhaled sharply. “Then what do you suggest, High Lord?”
"Suspension!" High Lord Alister answered for him.
"The Ravenwood Pack has prospered for years, both in armies and trade.”
“They are the reason other races come to do business with us.”
“They have also helped several packs eliminate threats. If we lose them, we lose what protects us.”
“Let the punishment be on the Alpha alone."
Demetrius let out a short, cold laugh.
"I certainly wouldn't agree to your punishments."
He turned his gaze on them, slowly, deliberately. "Look at yourselves. Seeking someone to take down.”
"But was I the one who asked you all to fight each other?"
"Was I the one who disrupted the joy of the celebration?"
He turned on them now, his voice sharp as a blade.
"Did I tell you to fight your brothers?"
"Werewolves are supposed to protect and love each other!"
"But here we are—fighting. Scheming against one another."
"All because of envy and jealousy."
His voice dropped, quieter, but no less deadly.
"I know no one will admit the truth here, but you are all disgusting."
"Always trying to tear each other apart."
"You're the last person to speak on peace here, Alpha Demetrius."
Ethan spoke for the first time.
"You've instigated fights enough amongst us.”
“A decade ago, you single-handedly fought the High Lords, thereby losing your mate in the process—"
Before he could finish, Demetrius moved.
Like a blur, he was in front of Ethan, his hand wrapped around his throat.
Ethan coughed, struggling. "See? You're still the monster you were years ago."
"You are not capable of change."
Demitrius shut his eyes. Then, slowly, he released his grip.
His voice was quiet now.
"I am not a saint either."
He exhaled. "I accept the High Lords' punishment.”
“But let it be given accordingly—to what each of us has done.”
High Lord Rhovan nodded.
"As the chief and High Lord of the clan, I hereby suspend the Alpha of the Ravenwood Pack from future celebrations.”
“Until the next Blood Moon.”
A ripple of tension spread through the hall.
Rhovan’s voice rang final. "Adding to the decree, all werewolves shall now return to their respective packs.”
“The celebration shall continue—but only within their own lands.”
Silence.
Then, one by one, the Alphas began to rise.
\---
That night, Demetrius sat at his desk, absently running his quill across parchment, writing without truly focusing on the words. One thought bled into another, yet none held his attention.
A knock at the door.
"Scarlet is here, Your Grace ," a voice announced.
"Let her in."
Moments later, Scarlet entered, her head bowed.
"Your Grace, you sent for me," she said softly.
He didn't look up. "Kneel."
Without hesitation, she dropped to her knees.
Demetrius stood and walked toward her. With a single finger, he lifted her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.
"You shot that arrow, didn't you?"
Her breath caught.
He knew. Even after her uncle had lied.
"Please, Your Grace ," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I'm so sorry. I really am."
He sighed, his fingers grazing the back of her neck.
"Let's not ruin the understanding we have, Scarlet." His voice was calm, almost gentle. Then it sharpened. "Try that again, and I will kill you. Do you understand me?"
She hesitated.
His grip tightened slightly. "Did you hear me, Scarlet?"
"Yes, your Grace " she whispered.
"Good." He stepped back. "Now, get on the bed. Face your back to me."
\---
Back at the Alpha’s Chamber
Darius watched as Scarlet let the last piece of clothing slip to the floor. She turned her back to him, hands gripping the sheets in silent invitation.
He moved toward her, ready—until the moment he entered her.
A searing, agonizing pain ripped through him.
A guttural cry tore from his throat as he stumbled backward, crashing into the wall.
His breath came in sharp gasps. His eyes widened. His hands flew to his head as the realization struck.
He knew what had happened.
Someone was with his Luna.
"Your Grace ?" Scarlet’s voice wavered, confused.
But Darius didn't answer. He didn’t even look at her.
Without another word, he stormed out of the room—straight toward Aria chamber.