# Chapter 250:

# Chapter 250:
Melinda's POV

Richard Stone died in Michael's arms before the sun could rise over the protected forest. I sat with the others in a circle around them, watching as Michael held his father's body, head bowed, shoulders rigid with grief.

He hadn't shed a single tear, though I could see the effort it took for him to maintain his composure.

I couldn't stop my own tears from falling silently down my cheeks. My heart broke for Michael, for the pain etched across his face and for the complicated relationship that had ended this way. Strangely, I also mourned for Richard. Despite his threats against me, his final moments had revealed regret and love for his son. It was hard to hate someone who died seeking redemption.

As I wiped away my tears, I wondered if I should tell my mother Emily about Richard's transformation at the end. I had learnt from Michael that he wasn't truly responsible for Lucas's illness. Would it bring her closure to know he'd changed, or would it only reopen old wounds?

The forest remained silent around us except for the occasional snap of a twig or rustle of leaves. None of us spoke, giving Michael the space and time he needed with his father.

"I want to bury him," Michael said suddenly, his gaze fixed on the ground in front of him rather than meeting anyone's eyes.

I nodded immediately and rose to my feet, ignoring the bone-deep exhaustion that made my limbs feel like lead. Around me, our friends – Olivia, Zoe, Matthew, and Marcus – did the same. Despite their obvious fatigue, with pale faces and dark circles under their eyes, they stood in silent support, ready to help Michael honor his father one last time.

As we followed Michael deeper into the protected forest, my thoughts turned to Selena and our narrow escape. I was grateful our friends hadn't been harmed by her or the witch – just placed under a sleeping spell. I suspected I knew exactly why Selena had shown such restraint. The twin bond between us meant that if I died, she would die too. If she had killed my friends, I would have either killed her in rage or ended my own life in grief, and either way, she would perish. She was too selfish, too afraid of death to risk that outcome.

This realization gave me hope. Perhaps her fear of dying was a weakness I could exploit when we inevitably faced her again.

Matthew volunteered to get tools, leveraging his new werewolf speed. "I'll go to the campus maintenance shed," he said quietly, and took off running through the trees. He returned minutes later with several shovels and a large canvas tarp.

I noticed him slip something into Michael's hand discreetly when he returned, but didn't ask what it was. It seemed like a private moment between them that I shouldn't intrude upon.

We took turns digging the grave in a small clearing Michael had selected. Even in our exhausted state, we worked efficiently, the repetitive motion of the shovel breaking through the soft forest floor providing a strange comfort amid our grief. When the hole was deep enough, Michael wrapped his father's body in the canvas tarp Matthew had brought.

Matthew and Michael carefully lowered Richard's body into the grave. The rest of us stood nearby, bearing witness to this solemn moment. Olivia wiped tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. Zoe stood with arms crossed, her eyes red-rimmed but face stoic. Marcus bowed his head respectfully, his usually animated face somber and still.

After placing the body in the grave, we all observed a moment of silence. Then Michael picked up a shovel and began to cover his father with earth. With each shovelful of dirt that fell onto the canvas-wrapped body, I could see a change coming over Michael. His movements, initially mechanical and numb, became more purposeful. His posture straightened, his jaw set with determination, and something in his eyes shifted from devastation to resolve.

I realized that whatever Richard had told Michael in those final moments had given him a new sense of purpose. Earlier, I'd sensed he wanted to flee with me and our friends, to escape the conflict with Selena and the Alpha King. Now, I could see a fire kindling behind his eyes, the same kind of determination I had felt when I'd resolved to face Selena myself if necessary.

Once the grave was filled, Michael brushed the dirt from his hands and turned to face us. His voice was clear and firm when he spoke: "My father ordered me to stop Selena before it's too late. That's what I'm going to do."

I walked toward him slowly, studying his pain-filled eyes that now held a spark of life again. I reached for his hand and looked up into his face. "We can do it together," I said softly.

Michael seemed about to argue, perhaps to say he would do it alone, but after a moment's hesitation, he simply pressed his lips together and nodded.

"We need to go now," he said quietly to everyone. "Selena will only cause the Alpha King and anyone else she touches to suffer the same fate as my father."

Our friends looked utterly exhausted. Olivia and Zoe leaned against each other for support, their faces pale and drawn. Matthew and Marcus stood slightly apart, their expressions solemn and weary. I knew Michael and I must look just as bad, but we had no choice but to continue. Our friends, however, didn't need to join us on this dangerous mission.

"We trust you," Zoe said, her voice hoarse as she looked directly at me.

I noticed then that everyone, including Michael, was looking at me, not at him. The realization hit me – Michael wasn't planning to be the one to defeat Selena. He was going to be my backup, my protector, but he believed I was the one who could actually stop her.

I glanced up at Michael, feeling his body slightly lean toward mine, seeking support he wouldn't verbally ask for. I chose to be the strong one in that moment, to bear the weight when he needed it most. I would be what my friends needed right now.

Deep down, I knew I was the only one who could truly stop Selena. And with Michael as my protector, I felt confident we had a chance.