Chapter 132 Some of Those Men Cried
By the time the deep violet hues of evening settled over the pack house, Leela absolutely refused to let Ginny spend dinner isolated in the downstairs guest room. It was a cozy enough space, infused with the scent of lavender and clean linen, but Magda had laid down ironclad, non-negotiable orders for the pregnant wolf: absolutely no stairs until the little prince, Ignatios, was born.
Determined to bring the warmth of the pack directly to her friend, Leela fired off a few sharp, maternal directions. Within minutes, she had Fennigan and Jax awkwardly maneuvering a sturdy wooden table and several heavy chairs through the bedroom door frame, transforming the quiet space into a makeshift, crowded dining room.
Propped up against her pillows, Ginny practically beamed with relief. She loved her mate fiercely, but everyone in the pack knew exactly how Jax ate. Being alone with him at mealtime usually meant fighting a desperate, losing battle to keep him from casually devouring half her plate while claiming he was just "tasting" it. Tonight, however, her dinner was safely shielded from Jax’s wandering fork—though she still ended up sharing the majority of it. Instead of fending off her ravenous Alpha, Ginny found herself happily sacrificing pieces of roasted vegetables and soft, buttered bread to the eager, sticky fingers of Caspian Blu and Briar Rose, who enthusiastically used the edge of her mattress as their personal buffet line.
It was loud, incredibly messy, and perfectly chaotic. Over the sound of Jax and Fennigan arguing good-naturedly about pack patrols, Ginny caught Leela's eye across the table. The expectant mother flashed a silent, deeply grateful smile, her shoulders dropping as the welcome distraction chased away the cabin fever.
Eventually, though, the day's massive adrenaline crash caught up with the youngest members of the room. Caspian let out a massive, jaw-cracking yawn, rubbing his eyes with gravy-stained fists that smeared across his cheeks. Right on cue, Briar immediately echoed her brother with a sleepy, dramatic whine, dropping a half-eaten roll onto the blankets.
"Alright, that's my cue," Leela laughed softly, pushing her chair back against the floorboards. She scooped a heavy, drowsy twin into each arm, pressing a lingering kiss to Caspian's messy hair. "Bath time and bed for these two little terrors. Get some rest, Ginny."
As Leela headed upstairs with the babies, the warm, jovial atmosphere in the room shifted instantly. The protective father and husband melted away, and the air settled into something far heavier, sharper, and utterly dangerous. Playtime was officially over.
Fennigan exchanged a dark, meaningful look with Jax. Leaving the women to rest, the two massive wolves stepped out of the warm guest room and headed down the hall toward the heavy, reinforced iron door. It groaned open, revealing the stone steps that led down into the pack house's subterranean holding cells. Damon was already waiting for them at the bottom, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression grim. The air down there was damp and biting cold, carrying the sharp, metallic tang of old adrenaline, stale sweat, and raw fear.
They hadn't come to execute anyone tonight. They needed information. They had to know exactly how deep Vane's rot had spread through their ranks.
As Fennigan, Jax, and Damon slowly paced the dimly lit stone corridor, they systematically interrogated the surviving guards who had been swept up in Vane's chaotic fall. The tension in the cells was suffocatingly thick, but it didn't take long for the truth to spill out. Faced with the undeniable, horrifying reality of what Vane truly was—and the unnatural, necrotic dark magic he had been wielding against their own kind—the guards' misplaced loyalty instantly shattered.
One by one, the men in the cells broke. They were bruised, battered, and exhausted, but their disgust was visceral and genuine. None of them could stomach the vile depths their former leader had sunk to, nor the twisted, unnatural future he had been trying to build. Desperate to distance themselves from his absolute treason, every single guard eagerly agreed to the same condition: they would stand as sworn witnesses before the High Council and testify to every one of Vane's crimes.The small, private family kitchen was steeped in shadows, illuminated only by the soft, warm amber glow of a single pendant light hanging over the wooden island. It was a stark contrast to the cold, damp cells below. Damon sat heavily on a stool, his broad shoulders slumped as the sheer, exhausting weight of the day finally caught up to him, settling deep into his bones.
Across the counter, Elana stood quietly. She had traded her flour-dusted apron for a soft sweater, her hands wrapped tightly around a steaming mug of chamomile tea. She didn't press him for details, just offered her silent, steady presence as she watched the grim lines etched into her mate's face.
Damon let out a long, ragged sigh, rubbing a calloused hand over his face as if he could physically wipe away the lingering tension. When he finally spoke, his voice was a rough, gravelly whisper that barely broke the quiet of the room.
"El... some of those men down there actually cried."
Elana’s breath hitched slightly, her knuckles turning white around her mug.
Damon shook his head, his eyes dark and haunted by what he had just witnessed in the subterranean holding cells. "These are hardened pack guards. Fighters. Men who have seen blood and battle. And they were sitting on those cots, weeping like terrified pups when the reality of what Vane had actually been doing finally sank in."
He looked up, his gaze meeting Elana's. The fierce, unyielding Alpha who had just commanded the dungeons was gone, replaced entirely by a father sick with worry. "And to think... our kids saw everything. When they trapped Vane, they didn't get to look away. They watched the entire nightmare unfold right through the viewing stone in the study. Every horrifying second, every twisted, necrotic piece of magic he used... it must have been pure hell to witness."