Chapter 160 Chapter 160

Chapter 160 Chapter 160
Kavian’s POV

“Rosemary."

I came alive thinking about Rose, the name ripping through me harder than any breath I had taken. My eyes swept across the field littered with dead corpses, bodies twisted and torn—and there was no sign of her anywhere.

Panic clawed into my chest. I could feel in my soul that she was alive, that faint, unmistakable pull—but I had no idea where she was.
Had my father and brothers caught her?
Or was she hidden somewhere, trembling and running for her life?

I didn’t have the answer. And it terrified me.

Sitting up straight, I tried to get to my feet, but pain shot through every inch of my body. My chest burned the worst. Instantly my mind replayed the moment my brothers’ swords slashed into me—metal tearing through flesh, the shock, the betrayal. A frown tightened my face at the memory, but deep inside, I realized they never meant to kill me. If they had, they would’ve gone for my head, ripped out my heart—ended me cleanly.

I would heal from these wounds, slowly or not.
But I would never forgive them for what they did to Rose… or to her people. They crossed a line that could never be repaired again.

Forcing myself upright, I pushed through the agony stabbing at my ribs. Each step was torture, but I endured it. I needed to find Rose. I needed to be sure she was safe. As I walked past lifeless bodies, the familiar tingle of healing crawled through me… weaker than usual, sluggish. With everything that happened, my body wasn’t at its normal strength.

I nearly jumped when something grabbed my ankle—a cold, weak grip. But when I looked down, my breath stopped.

Rose’s father.

“Alpha Stefan…” I muttered, my voice cracking. Seeing him like this disheartened me. He was barely clinging to the other side.

I knelt quickly, trying to lift him, but the moment I touched him he winced—in too much pain. I lowered him gently back to the ground. A deep, vicious wound split across his chest, refusing to heal. Poison. It had to be.

“Relax… I’ll go find help,” I said, trying to sound steady, but he shook his head slowly.

He tried to speak. The effort nearly broke him. I leaned down until my ear brushed his lips. His voice was just a breath, a whisper of a whisper—yet his words struck me so deeply that they nearly brought tears to my eyes.

“I promise,” I whispered back, giving him exactly what he asked for.

He looked at me one last time… and then his eyes went still, empty, gone.

I closed my eyes, swallowing the pain of his death. How would Rose survive this? How would she even breathe when she heard? A single tear escaped before I could stop it.

I lifted him from the bloodied ground and carried him away from the corpses. I laid him gently down and gathered stones, stacking them over his body to keep vultures and scavengers from touching him.

“Rest well, friend,” I said softly, placing his sword atop the stone-covered mound.

Rose’s pov

We journeyed deep into the woods, moving farther into the thicker part and toward the mountainous region where nobody ever dared to come. The trees grew taller here, their tangled branches swallowing the sunlight until everything felt dim and cold.

“Where are you taking me to… where are we going…?” I asked, my voice tight, but I was met with nothing but the pounding of hooves and the unsettling silence of the men around me—until Damian finally answered.

“A place where no one will ever find you,” he said from his horse, not even glancing back. His voice carried no emotion. After that, he didn’t speak again.

When he finally pulled his horse to a stop, he said, “We are here.”

All I could see were mountains draped in thick bushes and twisted trees, shadows clinging to every corner.

“There is nothing here,” I said, confusion slipping into my voice.

“Exactly. I told you… no one will find you,” he replied, getting down from his horse. His calmness unsettled me, and my confusion deepened.

His plan was to bring me to… nowhere?

But then he strode toward a wall of bushes at the base of the mountain. When he pushed them aside, metal glimmered beneath the leaves—an iron gate hidden so well it looked like the forest itself had grown to guard it.

“There is an entrance?” I whispered, stunned.

One of his men stepped forward, unlocking it with a heavy iron key. The gate creaked open, and as soon as they passed through, the bushes fell back into place—a perfect camouflage.

“Down you go,” one of the men barked, yanking me off the horse. Even though I was already walking, he kept shoving at my back, rough and impatient.

“Faster,” he snapped, as if my steps were too slow for his liking.

The narrow bush path opened into the hidden entrance, and when I stepped inside, my breath caught. Beneath the mountain was an entire secret dwelling carved out of stone and earth—tunnels, chambers, torchlit corners, all alive with a quiet, eerie pulse.

“What is this place?” I asked, my voice echoing faintly against the rock.

“My grandfather made this place,” Damian said, pacing with a kind of pride. “The first time I came here—he brought me when I was eight. He never trusted the other two packs. He always knew a time would come when they would join forces to end us. That is why he trained our people to be vicious, violent, strong… strong enough to defend our pack, even against the two packs. And he built this place to keep his bloodline safe in case we fell.”

“What an irony then,” I cut in, “that it was your pack who did the attacking.”

His eyes flicked toward me, sharp. “You should understand my father didn’t start the war seventeen years ago because he loved battle, but because of the gift your mother held—now inside you. The blood of the Phoenix wolf.”

He stepped closer, his voice dropping lower.
“I never saw the need for this place. I thought it was weakness… a coward’s hole. But now?” He looked around the hidden fortress. “Now I’m grateful to the man. Because thanks to this place, I will have the chance to become powerful enough to defend this city against your mates and their blood-lusted father who are set on destroying it. You should be happy—your sacrifice will save your beloved city.”

Just then, four women in red cloaks emerged from the shadows. I didn’t need anyone to tell me who they were. The air shifted around them—cold, ancient, wrong. Witches.

“My Lord, would you like us to start the preparation of the ritual now?” one of them asked, her voice distant and hollow.

“Not yet,” Damian said. He looked at me with something dark twisting in his gaze. “There is something I have always wanted to do.”

Before I could react, he moved. With one brutal motion, he tore at my dress, ripping the fabric clean off my body. Air hit my skin like ice. I gasped and instinctively folded my arms over myself, trembling as I tried to cover my nakedness.

He stared at my body with eyes full of raw, hungry lust, the kind that made my skin crawl.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, almost reverently… and then he began removing his own clothes.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I snapped, my voice trembling with a mixture of anxiety and disgust. My stomach twisted as each piece of fabric fell to the ground.

He didn’t answer. He just kept undressing—slow, deliberate—until he was completely naked. I forced my gaze away the moment I saw his hardness already standing in display, nausea rolling through me.

“Let me give you one last good time before you leave this world,” he said, stepping closer. His hand lifted toward my skin—

But mine was faster.

My palm cracked across his face so hard his head snapped to the side. The sound echoed through the chamber.

A wicked smile pulled at his lips. “I must say… you hit harder than you look.”

“Try to touch me again,” I warned, voice shaking, “and I’ll show you I can hit even harder than that.”
I meant it, though my heart thrashed violently against my ribs. Fear and revulsion tangled inside me, especially with both of us standing naked in this cold, hidden place.

He scoffed—low and irritated.
“Seize her.”

Four of his men surged forward at once.

I fought—kicking, twisting, pushing—but their grips locked around my arms and shoulders, pinning me in place.

“Let go of me! Don’t touch me!” I screamed, struggling with everything in me.

That was when Damian stepped forward and slapped me—so hard the world flashed white. Pain exploded in my lip as it split open, warm blood already trickling down.

“You will behave yourself,” he said, grabbing me by the throat in a semi-hard choke that made my breath catch.

Then his hand began sliding downward… toward my breasts.