Chapter 120 - Sephen POV

Chapter 120 - Sephen POV

“FUCK!”
The word explodes from me, but the room does not flinch.
That fucking witch.
That parasitic vampire.
I underestimated them.
Whatever she did… it did not just wound my wolf. It buried him.
He is there. I can feel him. Faint. Distant. Like a heartbeat underwater.
It is as if someone built a wall inside my mind. Seven inches thick. Soundproof. I press against it and feel only dull resistance. My senses are muted. My instincts sluggish.
I may as well be human.
The thought makes my skin crawl.
I grab the whiskey glass from the table and hurl it across the room. It shatters against stone, amber liquid bleeding down the wall like cheap blood.
There is no attacking them like this. No storming in. No tearing throats out.
I have to wait for this to wear off.
Around me are witches. Dozens of them. Useless. None capable of crafting a counterspell. None powerful enough to undo what she did.
Today we should have been claiming what is mine.
Instead, we gave them time.
Time to connect.
Time to strengthen.
Time to bind.
I feel the shift in the air like pressure before a storm.
Their power has increased.
That mangy pup touched what belongs to me.
Her power should be mine. Bound to me. Obedient to me. Not tied to that inexperienced fool who barely understands what he holds.
He does not know how to wield her.
How to shape her.
How to control her.
This world belongs to me.
I have sacrificed too much. Killed too much. Bled too much to let fate hand it to someone else.
Fate is for the weak-minded.
“ALANA.”
The door opens instantly.
“Yes, Alpha.”
She never makes me repeat myself.
She has been standing outside the entire time. Waiting. Still as a shadow. A good pet.
If only Klein had understood her place.
“Did you feel it?”
“Yes.” She steps forward, controlled, measured. “They completed a soul binding.”
Her voice does not waver.
“It is spreading. It feels like a summons. The energy is calling to all supernatural beings within range. Some in camp are… restless.”
“Restless how.”
“They are drawn to it. The whispers have started. Some believe they should go. Swear allegiance.”
The temperature in the room drops.
“They will not.”
Alana bows her head slightly. “Removing his mark will be complicated. Soul ties are not meant to be severed. The backlash could—”
“I know what it could do.”
I walk toward the window, staring into the dark.
“It will hurt her.”
“Yes.”
“It will hurt him more.”
A slow smile spreads across my face.
Good.
“I will keep him alive,” I say softly. “Long enough to watch.”
The witches will peel his mark from her soul, not just her skin. They will unravel it thread by thread while he feels every strand tear.
Then I will end him.
And she will understand that power is not a gift.
It is possession.
“Leave me,” I say quietly. “You know what to do.”
“Yes, Alpha.”
She retreats without another word.
My loyal creature.
She has been with me since she was a child.
I killed her mother in front of her, and she did not flinch.
That wretched woman dared to tell me I was cursed. Said my scheming would end in my death.
“You can conquer packs,” she said while my hands tightened around her throat. “You can spill oceans of blood. But you cannot outrun what is tied to you.”
I remember wrapping my hands around her throat. The warmth of her skin. The sound her bones made beneath my grip. The life leaving her eyes as certainty drained away. I felt her pulse flutter against my palms. Felt the cartilage of her throat collapse.
“You are already dead,” she whisperered
And then—
Small fingers tapping against my leg.
“Excuse me, sir. Will you take me with you?”
I looked down.
The child never looked at me. Her gaze remained on her mother’s body.
“Why?”
She turned slowly. Calm. Too calm.
“Because you will need me.”
“I need no one.”
“That’s not true,” she replied. “If you didn’t need anyone, you wouldn’t have come looking for my mother. She was training me. So now you need me instead.”
I laughed then.
“You’ve got guts, kid. Cross me and you’ll end up just like her.”
She never did.
She has stood at my side ever since. Loyal beyond reason. I even watched her kill my mate in front of me just as she had done when I killed her mother. 
Said the woman would distract me. Soften me.
She was right.
My wolf had stirred for that woman.
Weakly.
I ignored it.
And when Alana slit her throat, my wolf did not howl.
He went silent.
Just like now.
The realization crawls slowly through me.
He is not buried.
He is withdrawing.
From me.
Outside, I feel it again.
That pull.
That golden pulse stretching across territory like a beacon.
It does not call to me.
It repels me.
The witch’s words echo.
You are cursed.
I straighten.
No.
I am not cursed.
I am necessary.
My wolf will return.
He has no choice.
When he does, we ride.
Let them gather followers.
Let them celebrate their sacred little bond.
The brighter something burns, the easier it is to see in the dark.
And I have always hunted best at night.