Chapter 82: Forgiveness

Beta Mivron’s Point of View

“So? Are you happy now? Do you see me right where you used to be?” Lief shouted, shaking with rage as he stood chained inside the very same cell my own brother had locked me in for years.

It was exactly as I remembered it: sharp, jagged crystals lined the iron bars. Anyone who touched them would be cut deeply, wounds that festered and healed slowly.

A thick and invisible barrier wrapped around the whole space, so no magic—no matter how strong—could ever be used from within these walls. This was the same cell that had witnessed the darkest, lowest days of my entire life.

I said nothing. I simply leaned against the cold stone wall, watching the former Beta of our pack as he raged and cursed.

I had known this moment would come for a very long time. Deep down, I had always sensed there was something twisted and false about this man. I remembered clearly, even after all these years—how he would come to my cell late at night, again and again, to punish me all over again. The guards on duty had already beaten me and lashed my back raw, following orders they believed were right. But then Lief would return, claiming every single time that it was my brother’s command.

So day after day, I was whipped not once, but twice. First by the guards, then by him—under my brother’s name.

That was the very same scene Coriander had stumbled upon long ago. She had walked in just as Lief finished lashing me with that cruel whip, seeing me broken and bleeding on the cold floor. That was the moment her heart broke for me, and the moment I understood that no one else would ever believe me—not even my own brother.

That was why my anger toward him had grown deeper and heavier with every single day that passed.

“You think you’ve won?” Lief spat, pulling against his chains until his wrists bled. “You think you’re better than me now? You’re nothing but a weakling who survived when you should have died!”

I pushed myself off the wall and stepped closer to the bars. The crystals bit at my sleeves, but I did not flinch.

“I never wanted this for you, Lief,” I said quietly. “I wanted you to be better than this. I wanted you to be the Beta everyone thought you were. But you let your pride turn you into a monster. And now you are sitting in the very cell you helped put me in. Not because of me but because of every choice you made all on your own.”

He fell silent, his chest heaving, the rage in his eyes slowly turning into fear. I turned away before he could speak again, leaving him with the darkness he had once been so proud to cast over me.

When I stepped out of the underground dungeon, I found Delta Gun leaning against the wall, looking as though he had been waiting for me for quite some time.

“How did it go checking on the wounded, Delta?” I asked as I walked past him, heading straight for the exit.

He fell into step right beside me. “All well, Beta. The healers are already doing their work. And the other wolves who were still alive have been placed in the secure section on the other side of the dungeon,” he reported clearly.

“Good. You take charge here for now. I’m heading back to Obsidian Fang Hall,” I told him firmly.

“Understood. Just send me word about the King and Queen when you can,” he replied respectfully.

I nodded and kept walking, saying nothing more. I made my way straight to the underground parking area where my vehicle was waiting.

My grip tightened hard on the steering wheel, and I winced sharply as fresh pain shot through my side, burning deep and unrelenting.

“Fuck!” I hissed under my breath. No matter what I did, the wound simply would not heal. The ache stayed there, throbbing and hot, refusing to fade.

It was only after the fighting ended that I felt it properly—a knife wound right in my side. I knew instantly who had done it. Lief. I still could not believe he had managed to hurt me this badly, especially when I had been fully focused and aware through every moment of our clash.

Damn you, Lief! How had you slipped that past my guard?

I pulled over to the side of the road and stopped the car. I lifted my shirt to check the damage and nearly grimaced at what I saw.

The cut was deep and ugly, and something was seeping out from within it—a strange, glowing violet fluid. It looked exactly like the dark magic Lief had been using throughout the battle. The blade had been cursed. He had not only stabbed me; he had poisoned the wound with his stolen power.

I pulled my shirt back down at once and kept driving, gritting my teeth and bearing the sharp, throbbing pain in my side.

It was not long before I arrived at the scene of the battle. Curious onlookers still gathered beyond the perimeter, but members of the Obsidian Fang Pack stood firm, keeping everyone back and making sure no one slipped through to enter the Hall.

I parked my vehicle at the rear and walked straight inside, forcing myself forward despite the burning wound in my side.

I paused for a moment and looked around. There stood Mavros and Coriander, speaking seriously to one another. Nearby, Gamma Fengk was busy directing the others as they respectfully removed the fallen wolves.

This was the destruction the war had left behind.

We had faced powerful enemies tonight, but compared to the war we endured five years ago, I could say this had been far worse. Perhaps because back then we were still young and weak, while now—after all this time—we had grown so strong that the fight hit harder and cost more.

My gaze stayed fixed on Coriander, and I could not help but smile softly to myself.

Did you see your sister, Bridgette? She is so strong now. She can protect herself. I know you must be so proud of her up there.

Coriander must have felt someone watching her, so she lifted her gaze and scanned the area—until our eyes met.

And then, in a moment I had never dared to hope for, a gentle smile curved her lips. It was soft, warm, and open—the kind of smile I had not thought she would ever give me again, not after everything that had happened five years ago.

Back then, the truth about me and Bridgette had torn everything apart, and I had carried the weight of her hurt and her anger all this time. To see her look at me like this… it felt like a burden I had borne for years finally lifting from my shoulders.

My feet moved of their own accord, carrying me slowly toward them. I could feel Mavros watching me too.

“H-Hey,” I said, my voice quieter than I had intended, as I came to a stop before them.

I shifted slightly on my feet, trying not to show how much pain I was actually in, though the wound in my side throbbed with every breath I took.

“How are you?” Coriander asked simply.

I listened closely, searching for even the faintest trace of resentment or bitterness in her tone, but there was none. The hurt and anger that had sharpened her words for so long, ever since she had learned the truth about me and Bridgette… it was gone.

She was not looking at me with blame anymore. She was looking at me like family. Like the brother I had always tried to be, even when I failed.

For a moment, I could not find my voice. I did not know how to answer that question. How could I say I was fine when everything had been falling apart only hours before? When I carried a wound that would not heal and a guilt that had not fully faded either?

“I-If you are asking about Lief—”

“I am asking about you, Mivron,” she said softly but firmly, cutting right through my attempt to hide behind duty.

I fell completely silent then, my heart tightening in my chest. She was not asking about the prisoner. She was asking about me. About the brother standing in front of her, battered and bleeding and trying so hard to pretend he was whole.

I glanced over at Mavros, hoping he might say something that might help me find the right words, but he only gave my shoulder a gentle, reassuring squeeze and offered me a small, knowing smile.

“I will leave you two to talk,” he said quietly. He stepped back, turned around, and walked a short distance away—giving us space, giving us privacy, and trusting us with this moment.

When only Coriander and I were left standing there, I could not find the words to speak. It felt as though my tongue had gone heavy and still, just like all those years ago when everything fell apart.

“Mivron…” she called. “I know you are still carrying what happened all those years ago. I can see it in your eyes. But I am here to tell you—truly and with all my heart—that I forgive you.”

“Cori…”

“I understand everything now,” she went on. “I know the truth of what happened between you and Bridgette. I know how it was, and I know how much you both suffered in silence. My sister would never have wanted me to go on holding onto anger and bitterness, not when it only hurt all of us more. But tonight… tonight I need you to hear this clearly. I forgive you completely. For the secrets, for the silence, for every moment you felt you had to hide. You loved her truly, Mivron. You stayed loyal to her even when she was gone. And that is something I will never again hold against you.”

Tears stung my eyes, and for the first time in five years I did not fight them back. I had carried the weight of her anger like chains around my heart for so long, never daring to hope I would ever be truly forgiven, never daring to think I would stand before her again as family rather than a stranger she could not bear to look at.

“I loved her more than my own life,” I said at last, my voice shaking. “And I will love her until my last breath. I never meant to hurt you. I only wanted to protect her memory. I am so sorry, Cori. More than I can ever say.”

She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me, holding me tight—just like a little sister who had grown up too fast but still knew how to hug her brother. I clung to her gently, careful not to press against my wound, but letting myself finally lean on her, just for a moment.

“I know,” she whispered against my shoulder. “And I know she loved you too. More than anything. That is enough for me. That is enough for all of us now.”

When we pulled apart, she looked at me with eyes that held no more pain, only peace. The rift that had stood between us for half a decade was finally closed—not by magic, not by war, but by forgiveness freely given.

“Now,” she said, her tone softening into something gentle but firm as she glanced down at my side, “let me help you. That wound is not going to heal on its own, not with that cursed magic still inside it. Bridgette would never forgive me if I let you suffer when I have the power to make it right.”

I froze completely at her words. My gaze dropped straight to the wound throbbing in my side.

I reached up to stop her, about to pull my shirt back down and brush it off like I always did—but she was faster. Her hands gently lifted the fabric aside before I could even move.

I watched her face closely as her eyes fell on the injury, and my heart sank. I did not know whether to feel nervous or afraid because I saw the color drain right out of her face. Her lips parted, her breath caught sharply, and she went pale as she stared at the gash, seeing the violet glow pulsing dark and slow beneath the skin, spreading outward like ink in water.

“Shit…” she whispered, horror and worry thick in her voice. “We cannot treat this here. You have to come with me to the Hundi Pack. Now!”