Chapter 146 We Stop Running
The tension in the room didn't just break; it shattered, leaving behind the raw, bleeding truth.
Fennigan sank into his heavy leather chair, his head dropping into his hands. "It’s already started, Veda," he rasped, his voice thick with exhaustion. "Leela had a nightmare two nights ago. She saw the fog. She saw the guards. She saw herself in iron chains, and she heard the twins screaming while she was pinned down. She felt it as if it were real—the same way she felt the day she fled her parents' house."
At those words, Jax’s composure finally gave way. He let out a choked, broken sound, his shoulders shaking as he looked at his Alpha—his brother in every way that mattered.
"Fenn," Jax whispered, his voice cracking wide open. "I’m sorry. Goddess, I’m so sorry. I didn't—I never meant any of it."
He turned to Veda, the tears he had been holding back for days finally shimmering in his eyes. "The night she had that dream... I was awake. I was sitting in the dark and the thoughts... they were horrible. I was resentful. I was thinking that if Leela hadn't come here with her light and her power, the Council wouldn't be hunting us. I was blaming her for the danger Ginny is in."
A single tear tracked down Jax’s cheek as he looked back at Fennigan, his expression one of pure agony. "You know me, Fenn. You know I would never do anything to hurt her. I would take a bullet for Leela just as fast as I’d take one for Ginny. She’s my sister. But in the dark... it felt like someone else was whispering in my ear, telling me to hate her."
Fennigan stood up, but he didn't move with the aggression of an Alpha. He stepped around the desk and pulled Jax into a fierce, bone-crushing embrace. He clamped a hand on the back of Jax’s neck, grounding him.
"I know," Fennigan rumbled, his own voice thick. "I know it’s not you, Jax. I understand. The shadows are looking for the cracks in us, and they found the one place it hurts the most—our fear for our mates.Elder Veda watched them, her expression mournful but vindicated. She leaned on her cane, her gaze sweeping over the two men.
"See?" she said, her voice softer now but no less firm. "The Council is a monster of flesh and law, but the magic you are facing is a monster of the spirit. You must control your tempers. You must guard your hearts like you guard your borders. If you don't fight with a clear head—and a united one—you've already lost the war before the first shot is fired."
"Now, clear this air. Shake off the shame, Jax. Forgive yourself so the shadows have nothing left to grip. We have a letter to answer, and we cannot do it while we are bleeding from self-inflicted wounds." she said calmly.
The air in the study grew cold as the men confronted the true, bloody history of their kind. It wasn't just about the Goddess stripping the Elders of their gifts; it was about the horrific genocide that had followed.
Years ago, a rare subspecies of Lycan—the Elementals—had lived among the packs. They were the heartbeat of the natural world, but to Vane, they were nothing more than biological resources. Under the guise of "the good of all wolfkind," he had orchestrated their "evaluation." The decree was simple: if an Elemental was deemed too powerful, they were taken.
But no one ever came back.
The boys were kept in sterile, soundproof labs, where Vane’s scientists performed horrific surgeries while the subjects were fully awake, trying to map the flow of magic through their veins and harvest it for themselves. The girls were treated as nothing more than broodmares, forced to breed in a desperate attempt to create a controllable line of magic, until the very essence of the true Elemental was extinguished.
Vane had watched the supply of Elemental bone fragments—the source of his dark power—deplete year after year, wondering where he would ever find more. And then, after decades of silence, a spark had ignited that was so brilliant it couldn't be ignored. When Leela had first come into her power, the surge was so massive it had caused sensory machines three territories away to fail, their circuits frying under the weight of a raw, ancient energy they hadn't ever seen.
Fennigan’s jaw was set so tight his teeth threatened to crack. He knew exactly what the High Council was asking for. They weren't asking to see his children; they were asking for a fresh supply of bone and blood.
"To the High Council,
Do not speak to me of 'evaluations.' We know the history of the Elementals you hunted into extinction. We know of the labs where the boys screamed and the cages where the girls were broken. You claim to act for the good of all wolfkind while you sharpen your scalpels.
You wondered where the magic went when the world turned grey. You thought you had drained the last drop. But the Goddess has returned what was stolen. She did not give the elements back to four separate men who grew too powerful to be humble; she gave them to one woman who is too loving to be corrupted.
Leela is not a specimen. She is the reckoning for every Elemental you murdered. My children will never see the inside of your labs. If you want them, come and try to take them from the center of a storm you cannot survive."
Jax looked at the letter, his face pale as he thought of Ginny and the babies. "They're vultures, Fenn. They've been starving for an Elemental for twenty years. They won't stop at a letter."
"Let them come," Fennigan rumbled, the shadows of the room finally retreating as he stood. "Vane spent his life trying to find a way to keep that magic for himself. He never understood that you don't keep the elements. You serve them. And Leela is the highest authority they've ever known."
He walked out of the study, the heavy doors thudding shut behind him. He found Leela on the porch, her hand resting over her belly, her eyes fixed on the horizon as if she could already feel the machines in the Capital hum with greed.
He stood behind her, wrapping his massive arms around her waist, shielding her and the life within her. "They're never touching you, Leela. Not you, not the twins, and not the little one."
Leela leaned back against his strength, a small, sad smile on her lips. "I know the stories now, Fenn. I can feel the ghosts of the ones who came before me. They're tired of being hunted."
"Then we stop running," Fennigan whispered into her hair. "We make them regret they ever looked our way."