Chapter 149

The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur—or at least, I assumed it did. My mind was too preoccupied to register much of it. My gaze drifted to the figures gathered at the foot of the hill, but all I could focus on was the monstrous cruelty of my father. He had sold off a part of his own pack, discarded those who had once stood beside my mother when she came to the Southern Moon Pack. It wasn’t the first time he had done it. He had betrayed her once before—when he killed her. But what could be more disgraceful than reducing the remaining members of her old pack to mere slaves?

The thought of sharing his blood made my stomach twist in disgust. I despised the part of me that came from him. But if I had inherited his strength, then I would use it against him—against every vile act he had ever committed.

Kenzo’s fingers remained laced with mine throughout the formalities, a silent claim, a quiet assertion of ownership. I let him. Not out of conscious choice, but because I had no energy to resist. I stood still, my eyes glazing over as they skimmed over the crowd, seeing yet not seeing. Their voices were distant echoes in my ears, drowned out by the storm raging inside me. I might not have noticed when the ceremony ended had it not been for Kenzo’s gentle tug on my hand.

"Let's go, Thalassa," he murmured, a triumphant smile gracing his lips. "Our new pack members are hosting a celebration tonight. They’d love to meet you."

"Yeah..." I muttered, my voice detached as I fought my way out of my daze. "I’d love to meet them too."

Kenzo chuckled softly before leading me down the hill. I followed, my expression carefully composed, though inside, I was unraveling. More than anything, I craved solitude, a moment to breathe, to escape the weight pressing down on my chest. Even the tattered state of my clothing made me feel raw and exposed—I needed a shower, fresh clothes, and the illusion of normalcy, if only for a short while.

As we descended, the former members of the Moon Valley Pack began bowing to us, their gazes brimming with hope. Some reached out, wanting to shake our hands, seeking reassurance, acceptance. It was overwhelming. The way they looked at me—as if I were their queen—made my stomach tighten with unease. And yet, despite the sting of unshed tears, I forced a warm smile. If they could find hope in this moment, then the least I could do was return it.

Kenzo guided us through the crowd and toward the van where the rest of our group waited. Leif greeted us with a wide grin, while Bopha sat sulking in the corner, her gloom thick enough to choke on. I was too exhausted to spare her a second thought. Slipping into my seat, I exhaled slowly, the tension in my limbs refusing to fade.

"Where are we going?" I asked, realizing I was the only one left in the dark.

"The best hotel in town," Leif replied, eyes twinkling mischievously. "You and Alpha could have stayed at the mansion, but, well... we’d have to clean up all the bodies first." He let out a wicked chuckle.

"So… no other assignments for today?" My voice was hesitant.

Kenzo turned to me, his expression unreadable. "No. Everyone will be given a room to freshen up. Your only duty tonight is to attend the celebration. It starts at eight."

The car erupted in cheers, but I barely heard them. Relief coursed through me like a drug. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, I would have a moment to rest. I had been pushing myself beyond exhaustion for far too long.

By the time I reached my hotel room, my composure was hanging by a thread. The mere sight of a bed and pillow made my throat tighten with something dangerously close to tears. If not for the overwhelming stench of sweat and blood clinging to my skin, I would have collapsed right then and there.

Without hesitation, I kicked off my shoes, tore away my ruined clothes, and stepped into the shower. As soon as the semi-hot water cascaded down my body, the mask I had been wearing shattered. The weight of everything I had suppressed crashed over me, and before I could stop it, tears spilled down my cheeks, mixing with the grime of battle.

I couldn’t pinpoint a single reason for my breakdown. Maybe it was the sheer magnitude of emotions I had bottled up, the burden of my past, the war I had thrown myself into. Maybe it was the realization that I had something to prove—that I had to be worthy of my mother’s sacrifice, of Oberon’s sacrifice. Freeing her people was only the beginning.

But then, a darker thought crept in. Had Kenzo known? Had he been aware that the Blood Moon Pack members were being enslaved here before we arrived? If he had… then he had used me. He had kept that knowledge from me, knowing I would be too consumed by rage to refuse his cause.

The idea made me sick.

An hour passed before I finally emerged from the shower, my emotions wrung dry. Wrapping a towel around myself, I whispered silent prayers to whatever higher powers existed, asking them to watch over my mother and Oberon. I promised them I would grieve properly when this war was over. For now, I had a battle to fight.

The mere thought of facing my father again made my blood boil. He deserved to suffer—at least as much as those he had destroyed.

After blow-drying my hair, I threw on a loose T-shirt and sank onto the bed. Only then did I realize just how tightly wound my muscles had been. I lay there, motionless, until the stiffness began to fade, my body finally surrendering to the comfort of the mattress.

It helped. It was another moment where I silently thanked my regenerative abilities.

With sluggish fingers, I reached for my phone, expecting to see a flood of missed calls from Freya. But when I unlocked the screen, my breath caught.

The notifications weren’t from Freya.

They were from Hadrian.

A jolt of electricity surged through me, a stark reminder that his name was still etched deep within my heart. I hesitated, my fingers hovering over the screen, torn between calling him back or letting it go. My uncertainty only grew as I thought of whatever it was between Kenzo and me—something unnamed yet undeniable. Should I feel guilty for letting Kenzo kiss me, for allowing myself to melt into his embrace the way I did?

Another part of me scoffed at my hesitation, the one that still carried the scars Hadrian left behind. That part of me insisted I had no reason to feel burdened by guilt—not after the way he had treated me. Why should I deny myself a connection with the one fate had seemingly chosen for me? And yet… love wasn’t a switch I could simply turn off. Time had dulled the pain Hadrian caused, replacing it with cold, rational understanding, but it hadn’t erased him.

Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that there was nothing unnatural about returning a call. With that thought, I pressed Hadrian’s number. The line rang, the seconds stretching unbearably long before his voice—deep and velvety—filled my ears.

“Thalassa.”

The way he said my name sent an unwelcome shiver down my spine. It sounded sweet, intimate, like a song only he knew the melody to.

“Hello…” I breathed hesitantly.

“You called me back.” I could hear the relief laced in his tone.

I let out a short, nervous laugh. “I just wanted to know why you kept calling.”

“I needed to hear your voice,” he admitted smoothly, his words wrapping around me like silk. “I had to know you were safe.”

“I’m fine,” I said, clenching my fist.

“You don’t sound fine at all.”

His quiet observation struck me like a blade, cutting through the carefully crafted walls I had built. I stiffened. How could he see what no one else could? Even Kenzo had believed me when I claimed I was okay, despite the exhaustion gnawing at my bones.

“What happened, Thalassa?” His voice was gentle yet firm, an unspoken command.

I inhaled deeply, steeling myself. “I found out my mother challenged my father for leadership, and he killed her. I found out that my mentor and friend were tortured for God knows how long before they died… most likely in agony.” My voice wavered as I swallowed the lump in my throat. “And I—I killed someone.”

Hadrian didn’t speak right away. When he finally did, it was with unsettling certainty. “You knew the one you killed.”

“Yes,” I whispered, drawing in a shaky breath. “It was Merrick. He was the one who tortured Oberon.”

Silence. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Hadrian said, “I wish I could be there with you.” His words caressed me through the phone, each syllable laced with longing. “If I were, I’d hold you close and let you cry out all the anger, all the pain weighing on that precious heart of yours.”

Tears slid down my cheeks, their warmth tracing silent paths over my skin. It was strange. I had always concealed my pain from Hadrian, allowed him to see my fury, my frustration—but never my vulnerability. I never imagined myself confiding in him so freely. Yet here I was, spilling everything, and what truly caught me off guard was that he didn’t turn away from my weakness. Instead, he embraced it.

“I’d hold you until you understood that you did what had to be done,” he continued, his voice dropping into something raw, something dangerously sincere. “And then… I’d make sure you knew just how much I regret pushing you away.”

The words struck deep, twisting something inside me. My breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, my heart racing in response to the intensity behind them. He meant it—I could hear it in the way his voice trembled with restraint. I pressed a hand over my mouth, stifling the sound of my own longing.

“The degenerates are gathering near Crimsonville,” he murmured. “Fate is pulling us back together. We’ll see each other in less than a week. Wait for me.”

The weight of his words settled heavily in my chest. I stood from the bed, walking toward the window as if the night air could offer clarity. Gathering my courage, I forced myself to speak.

“Hadrian…” My voice was barely above a whisper. “There’s something I have to tell you. Kenzo and I—”

“Do you love him?” he interrupted, his voice sharp with urgency.

“I…” I placed a trembling hand over my chest, searching for an answer that refused to come. “No,” I admitted.

“Then just wait for me, Thalassa,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Hadrian…” I whispered, unsure of what to say.

“Trust me,” he urged. “Once we meet again, everything will make sense.”

I hesitated for only a moment before sighing. “Fine,” I relented softly, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself.

“See you soon, Thalassa.” His voice was a low purr, sending a shiver down my spine.

“See you soon, Hadrian,” I echoed, laughing lightly as I ended the call.

For a moment, I just stood there, my face flushed, my heart an unsteady rhythm beneath my ribs. The ridiculous smile lingering on my lips was one I hadn’t worn in what felt like years—a smile of a girl who had once believed in love.

But then, the air in the room shifted.

I turned, and my stomach dropped.

Kenzo stood in the doorway, his silhouette rigid, his pupils glowing crimson beneath the dim light. His jaw was clenched so tightly I thought it might shatter, and every muscle in his body screamed tension.

The expression on his face left no room for doubt—he had heard at least the last part of my conversation.

With slow, deliberate steps, he entered the room, shutting the door behind him with an ominous finality.

“Is that bastard trying to crawl his way back to you?” he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble that sent vibrations through the walls.

I swallowed hard.