Chapter 121

Lucas' POV

I never thought I'd be the kind of man to fall to my knees for someone. Control has always been my strength, my lifeline. But Elara changed that. She changed everything. Now, all I want is to fix what I've broken, to make her see that I'd do anything to take back the pain I've caused.

I approach her slowly, my chest tight as I watch her. She's sitting on the bench, her hands resting on her belly, her voice soft as she talks to our child. The sight of her like this, so calm, so beautiful, makes my throat ache. I stop behind her, close enough to touch her, but I don't. I can't. Not until she lets me.

"Elara," I say, my voice low, hesitant.

She doesn't turn, but her hands still for a moment, her fingers curling protectively over her stomach. I stand there, my heart pounding, and for the first time in my life, I feel completely powerless.

It had been days since we'd spoken, days since she'd looked at me with anything but cold indifference. Days where she barely slept in our bed unless I wasn't in it. She hated me more than I thought possible. That hate plunged me into despair. The memory of our last conversation clawed at me, her words replaying in my mind like a broken record.

Why did I allow my father to hunt Amaris through torturing my pack? Every piece of me wanted to stop him, to search for Amaris in a peaceful way, but I couldn't. Nommatter how much I thought about it, I couldn't bring myself to stand against him.

Elara had earlier performed a spell on Aurelio that healed all his wounds completely. It was bizarre, no one learns the art of magic so quickly, especially not a half witch. Something wasn't adding up.

I took a step forward, then hesitated. My chest tightened as I watched her, the woman who was supposed to be my mate, my other half. But now, she felt like a stranger. I didn't know how to fix this, how to make her see that I hadn't meant to hurt her. That I was stupid, reckless, but not cruel.

"Elara," I called out, my voice softer than I intended. "Can we talk?"

She didn't turn, didn't even flinch. Her silence was worse than any words she could have thrown at me. I stepped closer, my boots crunching against the gravel, but she still didn't acknowledge me.

"I know I hurt you," I said, my voice breaking. "I didn't mean to. I was stupid-"

"You were clear, Lucas," she interrupted, her voice flat, devoid of emotion. "There's nothing left to say."

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut. I reached for her hand, desperate to feel some connection, some sign that she was still in there, that she still cared. But the moment my fingers brushed hers, she jerked away as if my touch burned her.

I froze, my hand hovering in the air. "Why are you acting like this?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She finally turned to look at me, and I wished she hadn't. Her eyes were cold, empty, and her lips curled into a smirk that sent a chill down my spine. "Elara is gone," she said, her tone mocking.

I shook my head, refusing to believe it. "Don't say that. You're upset, I get it, but-"

"You don't get anything," she cut me off, her voice sharp. "But you will."

There was something in her tone, something in the way she looked at me, that made my skin crawl. This wasn't Elara. Not the Elara I knew. She was different, colder, harder. And it scared me.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, my voice rising.

She tilted her head, studying me like I was some kind of puzzle she was trying to solve. "You'll understand soon," she said, her smirk widening.

Before I could say anything else, she stood and walked away, leaving me standing there, my heart pounding in my chest. I wanted to follow her, to demand answers, but something held me back. Something about the way she carried herself, the confidence in her stride, felt unnatural.

I watched her until she disappeared into the packhouse, my mind racing. It wasn't until she was gone that I realized something. Elara's scent was gone. She had a distinct way she smelled, a way that tugged on my heart strings. A way that rattled my Lycan wolf. But my wolf hadn't reacted, and Elara didn't smell like a wolf anymore.

She smelled…almost like magic.

---

The council meeting was already underway when I arrived. I took my seat at the head of the table, trying to focus on the discussion, but my thoughts kept drifting back to Elara. My father, Darian, was arguing for harsher punishments for disobedience, his voice grating on my nerves.

"We need to show them who's in charge," he said, slamming his fist on the table.

Aurelio, ever the voice of reason, shook his head. "Fear is not leadership."

"That's the last time you interrupt me, boy!'' My father roars. "Werewolves don't get to talk over me.''

I barely heard them. My mind was elsewhere, replaying my conversation with Elara over and over. But then the door opened, and she walked in.

The room fell silent as she made her way to the table and took a seat. Darian was the first to break the silence.

"This is a council meeting, not a place for an omega," he sneered.

I shot him a glare, my protective instincts flaring. "Watch your mouth. That's my mate."

Elara didn't even look at me. "I don't need a Lycan to defend me," she said, her voice flat.

The room tensed, and I felt a pang of hurt at her words. But before I could say anything, she turned her attention to the council.

"This council does not care about its wolves," she said, her voice cutting through the silence. "That changes now."

Darian scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "And you think you can change it? You have no authority here."

Elara's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something dangerous in her gaze. "Three days ago, you terrorized the she-wolves," she said, her voice steady. "It stops now."

Darian leaned forward, his expression darkening. "Or else what?"

Elara didn't flinch. "Unless you want me to start revealing secrets."

The room went still, and I felt a chill run down my spine. Darian laughed, but it sounded forced. "You know nothing about me."

Elara raised an eyebrow, her smirk returning. "Really? When were you planning to tell them about the rogue witch?"

My stomach dropped. "What?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Elara turned to me, her eyes cold. "The one he used to cast a spell on you, as revenge for the same spell you once cast on him."

I stared at her, my mind reeling. "What are you talking about?"

"Lucas is now more susceptible to his will," she continued, her voice calm, as if she were discussing the weather. "If he wanted you to slaughter your own pack, you wouldn't be able to resist."

The room erupted into murmurs, and I turned to my father, my heart pounding. "Is this true?"

His face was unreadable, but he didn't deny it. Suddenly, it made sense. I had barely been able to deny him anything. Whatever he asked, he got. I should have seen it, should have put two and two together. But why didn't I? How had my father managed to put a spell on me? No witch can do so unless I lower my guards. How had he done it?

Elara leaned back in her chair, her smirk widening. "When were you going to tell Lucas that you bought out nearly everyone at this table-except Aurelio?"

I looked around the table, at the faces of the people I had trusted, and saw the guilt in their eyes.

My father remained silent, his jaw clenched. I didn't say a word. His fate was now sealed. I'd kill him. There was no changing my mind this time, i'd kill my father.

Elara's voice cut through the chaos. "Like I said, things are changing."

As the council erupted into arguments, I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. She sat there, calm and composed, her eyes gleaming with something I couldn't quite place.

And for the first time, I felt a flicker of fear. Not for myself, not for her, but of her.

There was something unsettling about the look in her eyes.

Because this wasn't Elara.

And I didn't know how to get her back.