Chapter 121 Blood Law

Chapter 121 Blood Law
POV Therak:

There’s a line of Lykae—members of my pack—standing outside the house I built to keep Declan locked up, the same place where the Council has decided to gather for the trial.

Most avoid my gaze, but some stare at me with pleased smiles on their lips, celebrating my “imminent” fall.

I memorize every face so I can kill them later, once this is over.

No more showing mercy. I’ve made that mistake before, and it only brought me trouble. I won’t make it again for anyone.

For years, I was patient and ignored the comments from those who preferred my father. Who rejected me. I fed and protected them with dedication, and all I got in return was a knife in my back.

Now I’ll use that knife to slit their throats and leave their bodies for the forest animals.

The simple wooden door of the house opens before Begay can touch the handle, and for the first time since I arrived, I see genuine smiles directed at me.

“Man, I don’t even need to say how stupid you are, right?” Kalil, a lion Lykae who was my first friend in this world, pulls me into a quick hug, giving three hard pats on my back—a mix of punishment and comfort.

“Why didn’t you kill that bastard, you idiot?” Hyder, Kalil’s twin brother, whispers in my ear as he pulls me into a hug as well.

It’s comforting to see the tall men with golden skin, long reddish-blond hair tied into low buns, and warm brown eyes—a typical feline trait. The twins, who share the Alpha position, are my main allies on the Council, as well as incredibly powerful voices within it.

Both of them glance at Una, Asher, and Begay—who obviously carry my scent now—as I step back slightly. Their comforting smiles turn mischievous in seconds.

“Three mates, Therak?” Kalil asks, extending his hand to shake Asher’s.

My warning growl makes him laugh and give up on touching my male.

“What sacrifice did you make to the Goddess for her to bless you so much?” the other lion asks, smarter than his brother by not trying to approach my partners or stare at them too long.

“Twenty years in absolute hell. And now she’s demanding a few more hours.” I nod toward the inside of the house, where the rest of my life will be decided. “How are things, overall?”

“Very divided. Declan claimed you tortured him for years. He insisted the trial be held in the room where you kept him, to make the Council members buy his story of a poor, wronged Alpha who was robbed,” Hyder says, frowning with concern. There’s no trace of amusement left in his voice.

“And the Council bought it,” I say what he didn’t dare, letting out a dry laugh.

“Most of them. Some tried to defend you, but…” Kalil hesitates.

“The majority wants to see how this plays out. Declan made a lot of promises.”

“What does he even have to offer? He was always a weak Alpha. Moonclaw Ridge only became powerful under my command!” I pound my chest, knowing this isn’t arrogance—it’s the absolute truth.

“That’s exactly what he’s offering. The strength you built and never shared.” Asher is the one who answers, surprising me.

“Still haven’t realized that everyone on the Council is self-serving, Therak?” Hyder raises a brow, flashing a sharp, sarcastic smile. “Think about how many would thrive without having to follow the laws you created about respect and inclusion… You, with your ideas that blood purity doesn’t matter, created a problem for the conservatives.”

“And your father is selling the illusion that he can restore everything to ‘normal,’” Kalil adds, crossing his arms over his chest, covered by the burgundy cloak all High Council members must wear during meetings.

My stomach churns. Not from fear, but from disgust.

Before we can continue, Aldrick—the European Alpha of short stature, pale skin with a yellow undertone, and greasy black hair—storms into the room. The look he gives me is filled with sadistic disgust, revealing what I’ve always known: he doesn’t like me.

“Therak of Moonclaw Ridge.” His greeting sounds arrogant and contemptuous. I notice he deliberately removes the title of Alpha before my name and looks at my companions as if they were vermin. “The Council demands your presence so the trial may begin.”

He says “trial,” but I catch the thought of what he really wanted to say.

Execution.

If my companions hadn’t shaken me out of it back at Orion’s place, I’d probably be in despair as I walk toward the stairs and descend into the basement where I kept my father imprisoned for the last twenty years.

But anguish doesn’t take hold of me.

I’m at peace.

I have a plan.

It came to me on the way here, as I watched Felícia flipping through an old book of laws, searching for something that could help me. She didn’t find it—but I remembered.

And now, I’ll make the Council remember too.

The basement, once empty, has been turned into an improvised courtroom, with a large circle made of salt, herbs, and moonstones drawn in the center. Around it, thirty chairs—the required number for any meeting—are crammed together, each bearing the name of an Alpha carved into the dark wood.

Since not all ACS members are present, my seat isn’t the only one empty.

But it’s certainly the one drawing the most attention.

I thought they would’ve removed it, I admit through the mental bond I share with my mates.

That’s a good sign. The chair is waiting for you, Begay says, trying to encourage me.

I give him a brief smile and nod toward where he, Asher, and Una should stand—outside the circle, near the door, so if everything goes wrong, they can escape.

Kalil leads Orion, Felícia, and Dalton—who haven’t spoken since arriving—to where some Lykae from my pack are gathered. Disgust rises in me when I notice they’ve set up a tripod with a camera to record what they believe will be a pre-signed death sentence.

They’re not entirely wrong.

There will be a death here.

But I will be the one delivering it.

I step into the center of the circle and stand beside Declan, who looks far better than the last time I saw him, twelve days ago.

Twelve wonderful days with my mates—days I intend to turn into centuries.

His long blond hair, darker than mine, is tied into a low ponytail, and the scruffy beard that once hid most of his aged face has been shaved, helping him appear more imposing.

I’ll admit, I’m surprised. I expected him to play the part of the tortured, pitiful Alpha to gain sympathy.

He put on a mask to hide the rot in his bones and pretend he has power. My orsai mocks, and it’s hard to hold it back from lunging at Declan and killing him before the time comes.

“Therak…” His voice is calm as he greets me. Superior.

He’s committed to maintaining the image of a strong, capable man.