Chapter 145 Claws on this throat
DARIAN
The forest presses in around me, rain slicking the leaves and mud beneath my boots. Every nerve in my body hums, taut and alive. I know he’s here, my brother, the one who’s haunted me all my life with that smug arrogance, standing somewhere in the shadows, waiting.
“Darian,” a low voice slips through the mist, calm and cruel. “I knew you’d come. You can’t stay away. So obsessed with me, huh?”
My jaw tightens. “Zeus,” I growl, stepping into the clearing, eyes scanning the gloom.
“You think you can stop what’s coming?” he taunts, stepping into the thin drizzle. “Our father’s dead, your world’s falling apart, and you?” He laughs, sharp, bitter, echoing across the clearing. “You’re going to die anyway. Why fight?”
Something snaps inside me. The world narrows to him. To the rage that’s been building since I found his betrayal, since I watched him slip between us and our father, since every glance, every lie, every manipulation has led to this moment.
“I don’t care what happens to me,” I hiss, teeth gritting. “I care about making sure you pay.”
Before he can answer, my body shifts, the familiar heat and weight of fur erupting along my spine. My claws extend instinctively, and my teeth sharpen with a wolf’s hunger. The smell of wet earth, of blood, of raw power hits me in waves.
Zeus’s eyes widen, but only for a heartbeat. Then he laughs, and his own form ripples, twisting, coiling, until fur erupts along his skin, claws scraping the ground, eyes flashing with a wolfish light.
I growl low in my throat, a sound that vibrates in my chest and echoes across the clearing. “Let’s see who survives this.”
He lunges first, fast as a striking viper. I sidestep, claws raking the air where he would have been, teeth snapping just behind his shoulder. He spins, agile, relentless, his own claws tearing at mud and bark.
“Not fast enough, Darian,” he sneers, snapping close enough to graze my side. Pain flares, but it sharpens my focus. My wolf instincts take over, senses tuned to every twitch, every shift in muscle, every intent hidden in his movements.
I counter, pivoting on my hind legs, slamming him into a tree with enough force to crack bark. He snarls, shaking the impact off, teeth bared, growl deep and threatening. His claws rake my flank, slicing my fur, drawing a hot sting of pain.
“You think this changes anything?” he hisses, backing away, circling. “You can’t stop it. You’re going to die. It’s the prophecy. Your death is inevitable.”
My heart pounds, but I let the fury take over. “I don’t care about prophecy. I care about you paying for all your Wrongs!” I leap, claws slashing, teeth snapping. I drive him back through the trees, branches whipping, mud splattering, rain hammering down in sheets that turn to steam with the heat of our bodies.
He counters, spinning, leaping, and we crash together in a tangle of claws and fur, rolling in the mud. I taste rain, dirt, and the sharp tang of him on my teeth. He hisses, striking with a speed I didn’t know he had, but I anticipate, sidestepping, snapping, each move building a rhythm, a dance of predator and predator.
I can feel the shift. I’ve never had this kind of control before. I’ve fought him countless times, always just shy, always slightly outmatched. But now… now I feel the surge of my father’s strength, the rage of loss, the fire that only betrayal can kindle. My muscles move of their own accord, precise, deliberate, lethal.
“You think you’re stronger?” he snarls, dodging a swipe at his side. “You think you can beat me?”
I snap my jaws inches from his muzzle, teeth grazing his fur, and he jumps back, claws scrabbling. “I know I can!” I roar, the sound carrying through the clearing. “I am stronger!”
The fight stretches on, brutal and relentless. Every strike is a test of endurance, every dodge a calculation. We crash through undergrowth, mud and leaves flying, rain slicking our fur. Each of his attacks I parry, each of my strikes lands.
I feel something inside me, something dark and raw thrumming in rhythm with his snarls and growls. Every hit, every scratch, every collision drives home the truth: I am in control. For the first time, I overpower him. I force him to the ground, teeth bared, claws poised. The forest feels alive with tension, the air thick with the smell of wet fur and fear.
He looks up at me, lying in the mud, chest heaving, eyes blazing. “You… you can’t…” His voice cracks, frustrated and scared. “You’re going to die… anyway. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.”
My fury ignites, hotter than ever. “You dare speak to me now? After everything?” I step closer, claws poised, teeth flashing. I can feel his fear, his pride cracking, his arrogance dying in the mud beneath me. “You betrayed us all. My father. Our family. And now you pay.”
I press closer, ready to strike the final blow, the wolf inside me roaring with satisfaction, the temptation of ending it, finishing him here, finally complete. My claws hover, teeth inches from his throat.
And then—a voice cuts through the storm.
“Darian, Stop!”
The sound hits me like a thunderclap. Not physical, but sharper, cleaner, impossible to ignore. My muscles tense, frozen mid-motion, claws suspended in air. I hear it, and suddenly the weight of everything, the rage, the grief, the loss, it shifts.
It’s her voice. Only her voice. Echoing through the forest, soft but insistent.
I stare down at Zeus, the fury in me still roaring, teeth bared, muscles trembling… and yet, that single word, her voice, slices through it all.
For a heartbeat, I hesitate. My breathing is ragged, chest heaving, eyes wild. The wolf inside me snarls, wants to finish, to tear, to end it all… but her voice anchors me, tethers me to something human, something beyond this primal urge.
I pause.