Chapter 40 THE MERCY OF THE DEVIL
XAVIER'S POV
I didn’t look at the executioner. I didn’t look at the elders or the sea of faces in the crowd. I looked at Avrielle.
Her eyes bulged, the pupils blown wide with a terror so raw it made my chest ache.
A scream tore from her throat—a sound of pure, unadulterated agony that should have moved mountains, a sound that carried the weight of every betrayal she had ever suffered. I didn’t give a damn.
I kept my face a mask of granite, my jaw locked so tight the muscles ached. The cold weight of the Alpha’s crown felt like a leaden shackle on my soul, demanding I play the part of the heartless judge until the very last second.
Below the podium, Adrian looked like a broken dog. He was battered, his face a map of purple bruises and dried blood from the persuasion my enforcers had used this morning.
I felt nothing for him. No pity, no familial tie, no lingering sense of duty. Only a cold, clinical disgust for a man who would gamble his life for a trinket while his mate—his real mate—was forced to beg for his life in the dirt.
Ivana, the woman he had risked everything for, took a frantic step back. Her eyes were wide, her hands trembling as she distanced herself from the man who was about to die for her vanity.
She was a coward, a vulture who had realized the carcass she was feeding on was still being picked at by a much larger predator.
But Avrielle... she was falling apart. She looked more battered than the man on the block. Her dress was torn, her skin was stained with the grit of the road and the residue of rogue blood, and her spirit was fraying right in front of me.
Seeing her like this broke my heart into a million jagged shreds. Every tremors in her hands felt like a tremor in my own core. I had done this to her. I had forced this path.
“Alpha.”
Kaiden’s voice sliced through the telepathic link, sharp and urgent, cutting through the fog of my internal turmoil.
“I found the evidence, Alpha. He’s indeed guilty. The treason is real... but he’s not alone. There are other names attached to him and the most deadly of them all is Malphas, just like you suspected. This jewelry story was just a charade."
I almost scoffed. I had always known Adrian was guilty. My gut was never wrong; it was a compass that always pointed toward the rot.
But a small, traitorous part of me—the part that belonged to the woman standing in the dust—had actually wished he was innocent. For the sake that I raised him, I had wanted her to be right, for her sake.I wanted her to have that victory.
My gaze snapped back to Avrielle. Her eyes suddenly rolled back, the light in them extinguishing like a blown-out candle. The world seemed to tilt for her as her legs gave out, her body turning limp as she began to collapse toward the stone floor.
I didn't think. I was off my throne before she even hit the halfway point. I moved with a speed that blurred the world, a streak of midnight shadow crossing the killing floor.
My arms caught her just before her head cracked against the granite. She was a dead weight in my arms, her breathing shallow and ragged, her face the color of ash.
She had pushed herself too far. For a man who didn't deserve her. For a truth that was uglier than she imagined.
"STOP!" I roared at the executioner.
The man flinched, the silver blade wobbling an inch from Adrian’s skin.
The vibration of my command seemed to ripple through the air, silencing the whispers of the pack. The arena went deathly silent. You could hear the wind whistling through the pines and the frantic, sobbing breath of Ivana.
"Release him," I commanded, my voice like grinding tectonic plates.
A collective gasp rippled through the hundreds gathered. It was a sound of pure shock, a wave of disbelief that I would show mercy at the final hour.
The executioner blinked, his mouth falling open. "Alpha... is he not guilty? The law..."
I let out a deep, predatory growl that vibrated in my chest and echoed off the stone walls, a sound of pure, unbridled warning that silenced any further protest. "I said, release him."
The executioner immediately retracted the blade, his hands shaking so violently he nearly dropped the weapon. He scrambled to untie the ropes binding Adrian’s wrists.
Adrian slumped forward, his forehead hitting the dirt with a dull thud. Ivana finally moved, rushing forward to catch him, her fake tears finally flowing as she draped herself over his broken form.
I ignored them both. They were insignificant gnats in the grand scheme of the war I was about to wage.
I scooped Avrielle into my arms, tucking her head against the crook of my neck. I felt the wetness of her tears on my skin, and it burned worse than any silver blade.
I turned my back on the execution, on the pack, and on the justice I had spent my life upholding. I rushed toward the car, my strides long and frantic.
I placed her in the passenger seat with more gentleness than I had ever shown any living thing, then vaulted into the driver’s seat.
I tore away from the grounds, the tires spitting gravel, leaving a cloud of dust and the stunned silence of the Northwood pack behind us.
When I reached the manor, I didn't wait for the staff. I didn't wait for anyone. I carried her inside, my heart hammering a rhythm of pure, unadulterated guilt.
I headed straight for my room—the only place I knew I could keep her safe from the prying eyes of the traitors still hiding within these walls.
The moment I stepped across the threshold, I stopped. My nostrils flared, the wolf inside me snapping to attention. There was a scent lingering in the air—sharp, unfamiliar, and intrusive. Someone had been in my room. Someone had been searching.
I ignored it for now. My priority lay in my arms.
I laid Avrielle on the bed, her dark hair splayed across the silk pillows. I sat on the edge of the mattress, my fingers lingering on her cheek as I smoothed back a stray lock of hair.
She had passed out because of me. I had pushed her to the brink, used her desperation to smoke out the truth, and watched her bleed for it.
I was stressing her to the point of breaking, and for what? To save a pack that was already rotting from the inside?
I let out a long, ragged sigh and closed my eyes for a brief second, resting my head in my hands.
“Kaiden. Meet me at the manor. My private quarters. Now,” I mindlinked, my mental voice a jagged blade.
“Yes, Alpha. I’m bringing the files,” he replied instantly.
I turned back to Avrielle, leaning down until my forehead rested against hers. Her skin was cool, her pulse steady but weak, a rhythmic reminder of how much I had almost lost in my pursuit of the law.
"I'm sorry," I whispered into the silence of the room, the words tasting like ash and iron. "I'm sorry for using you as a pawn, Avrielle."
"I wouldn't have to do that anymore my Luna. You've done your part in this game. Now, it's my turn."