Chapter 27 27
Chapter 27 27
The bar door didn't just open; it shattered the atmosphere.
Wyatt entered with his usual entourage of sycophants. My lip curled in disgust, but the air in my lungs turned to ice when I saw where his eyes landed.
He wasn't looking at the bar; he was looking directly at Lyra. His gaze was predatory, calculating, the look of a man appraising a piece of meat he intended to slow-roast.
What the hell? Why is he looking at my female?
Wyatt didn't wait for an invitation. He pulled up a chair at our table with a malevolent chuckle. “Alpha Silas? I’m impressed you’ve traveled so far... for such a drab little corner of the world,” he said, snapping his fingers at a server with a gesture of pure arrogance.
“That’s the idea, isn't it? To be where I'm least expected,” I replied, my voice a sub-zero growl.
He took a long sip of beer, stretching his arms behind his head. “I have to admit, these rogues have the best alcohol in the kingdom. It’ll be a damn shame when they’re no longer around to brew it,” he said, his tone casual, as if he were discussing the weather and not genocide.
I felt my claws prick against my palms. “The Council hasn't approved a cleansing, Wyatt. Don't get ahead of yourself.”
Wyatt leaned in, his eyes gleaming with a sick, amber light. “The Council does what I tell them to do once I show them the threat. These villages... they’re breeding grounds for rebellion. And the women?” He flicked a glance back toward Lyra, a slow, disgusting smile spreading across his face. “They’re wasted here. A rogue female with that kind of fire? She needs to be broken. She needs to know the weight of a real Alpha.”
I stood up so fast my chair flipped backward, the wood clattering against the floor like a gunshot. The entire bar went silent. My Alpha aura exploded out of me, a physical force that made the men at the nearest tables scramble away in terror.
“You will not mention her again,” I whispered, the words vibrating with a lethal promise. “Not with that mouth. Not in this lifetime.”
Wyatt didn't flinch. He just laughed, a dry, hollow sound. “Protective, aren't we? I wonder what the Council would say if they knew their golden boy was lost over a piece of rogue trash.”
“Besides,” Wyatt continued, his voice dropping to that icy, bureaucratic tone he used to mask his cruelty. “The rogues have their nests too close to the borders. It’s a security risk. They organize, they hide, and then they strike. The only way to ensure the safety of the kingdom is to start destroying these facilities. Starting with the ones that harbor the most... interesting distractions.”
He looked at Lyra again, and I realized with a jolt of pure horror that he knew. He knew she was the reason I was here. And in Wyatt's world, anything I loved was simply a target for him to destroy
“But the border towns of rogues have been under constant surveillance. There haven't been any attacks for many years,” one of the men at the table interjected, trying to make some sense of it all.
"Maybe, but what if they decide to rise up? They are strong and can change their minds. We have to finish them off before that happens," Wyatt declared once again, with that cynical expression that turned my stomach.
At his words, Bill and I exchanged tense glances.
“And what do you suggest? Just steal their land and enslave them? Is that how you solve something that hasn't happened yet?” Bill said with obvious annoyance.
A mocking laugh rang from Wyatt lips, a sound so shrill that everyone in the bar turned to look at us.
Everyone, that is, except my mate, who seemed determined to ignore us as she continued chatting with that idiot at the bar.
“We must declare them our enemies and show them that we have always had the power. In fact, this town would be a good place to start,” Wyatt said, relishing the idea of carnage.
Damn, when I heard him say that, my fists clenched with tremendous force under the table. He was threatening Lyra's home, her refuge.
I couldn't let that happen!
“I don't think that's a solution, Alpha wyatt. I think you're trying to create a war where there isn't one,” I said, staring into his eyes with absolute coldness.
However, he took another sip of his beer and settled himself at the table, moving dangerously close to me. "Alpha Silas, you know better than anyone that those damn rogues are a threat. Or have you forgotten that they were the ones who murdered your mother?"
I held back all the anger coursing through my body, feeling my wolf scratching to get out and tear this bastard's throat out for using my tragedy as an excuse for his cruelty. But just when I thought I couldn't take it anymore, Wyatt let out a slight triumphant chuckle.
“I'll propose my idea to the Council. We'll have an answer soon,” he concluded.
I remained silent, struggling not to explode, while trying to inhale the scent of Lyra that lingered in the air. It was the only thing that could calm me down at that moment, the only anchor that prevented me from becoming the monster Wyatt expected me to be.