Chapter 43 VIBRANT VIOLET
Chapter 43 VIBRANT VIOLET
CHAPTER 43. VIBRANT VIOLET
KAELEN'S POV
I stand frozen in the center of the lavish room, my hands clenching into tight, rigid fists until my knuckles turn a stark white. A cold wave of dread washes over me as my own words echo back in my mind.
Have I just done the unthinkable? Have I just used my own tongue, my own desperate attempt at an explanation, to throw Iris right back into the wolves' den?
I blink rapidly, a sudden dryness catching in my throat as I struggle to swallow past the rising panic.
“Um... a witch?” I ask.
The words stumble out of my mouth, but the moment they break the silence, I hear it—the subtle, treacherous shift in my own voice. It rises slightly, heightening in pitch and coming out a fraction too loud, a dead giveaway of the frantic nervousness clawing at my chest. I quickly try to smooth over the crack in my armor, forcing my features into a mask of pure confusion.
“I don't... I honestly don't know what you're talking about, sir. I don't see how that’s even a remote suggestion here,” I say, waving a hand dismissively as if the mere concept is completely absurd.
Elder Cyphros doesn't answer immediately. He slowly rises from his plush gold sofa, his massive, imposing frame casting a long, dark shadow across the heavy woven rug. There is not a single ounce of pleasure or amusement on his weathered face as he begins to close the distance between us. His boots strike the floorboards with a slow, deliberate cadence that sounds like the ticking of a doomsday clock.
“If I get to find out that you are hiding something from me, Kaelen—something deeply significant and immense—I promise you that I am not going to be pleased,” the Elder warns, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly rasp that vibrates through the very air. He stops just a few feet away, his magma-like eyes boring straight into my skull. “Is there something you know about this girl that you aren't telling me? Because you and I both know the biology of the supernatural world. Vampires cannot deflect a direct, concentrated attack from the Blood Witches. Such magic might not instantly incinerate them due to their advanced healing, but it is entirely lethal to their systems. Furthermore, we werewolves—though our high pain tolerance allows us to survive a glancing blow—we also cannot shatter or deflect an elemental spell launched by a Blood Witch. Only a witch is capable of performing such a feat. So, do you care to explain to me how it is physically possible that a human schoolgirl was able to do that ?”
I blink rapidly, my heart thumping a frantic rhythm against my ribs as I desperately search for a defensive line. I force a short, dry chuckle to bubble up from my throat, trying to project a confidence I don't possess.
“Well, isn't the reality of it completely obvious, Elder?” I ask, tilting my head with a practiced ease. “She must be a supernatural. It’s clear there is still a massive amount about her lineage that we simply don't understand yet. But we don't have to guess. We could use the ancient examination ritual to peel back the layers. You know as well as I do that Ciara is capable of performing it. She can probably execute the diagnostic and let us know exactly what kind of supernatural we are dealing with. We can't just carelessly jump into catastrophic conclusions here. I mean... a witch? Really, sir? Seriously?”
Elder Cyphros falls dead silent. The space between us turns suffocatingly thick, the quiet broken only by the rhythmic crackle of the hearth. His heavy eyebrows knit together as his eyes narrow into thin, dangerous slits, observing my micro-expressions, trying to read through my thoughts or catch the lie hidden beneath my pulse. I swallow hard against the dryness in my throat, forcing myself to maintain direct, unyielding eye contact with him. In our world, looking away from an apex leader is an admission of guilt. For a few agonizing minutes, he doesn't say a word. Then, with a slow hiss of breath, he turns his back on me and resumes his slow, pacing crawl across the carpet.
I bite down hard against my bottom lip, the sharp sting of pain grounding me as I watch his tensed shoulders.
“And then again, we have the incident with the bodyguards inside the chamber,” Cyphros says suddenly, his voice echoing off the vaulted stone ceiling. He pauses, turning his torso slightly to glance back over his shoulder. “No normal person—no ordinary stray—should be capable of producing that kind of raw kinetic force.”
I scoff on instinct, folding my arms tightly over my chest to mask the slight tremble in my fingers. “Werewolves can do that,” I counter smoothly. “An alpha line can project that kind of physical displacement.”
He snaps his head around, glaring at me with a sudden, icy intensity that makes the air turn cold. “Have you completely forgotten who you are speaking to, boy?”
“I know about the mechanics of the alpha aura, Elder,” I say quickly, trying to interrupt his rising anger before it solidifies.
“But come on... that specific amount of aura? Those guards literally flew halfway across the expanse of the room and crashed into solid stone. It was a massive, uncontrolled wave of pressure, Kaelen. It shook the foundation of the hall.”
I close my eyes for a brief second, letting out a long, controlled exhale to steady my nerves. “Ugh... we just cannot come to definitive conclusions yet, Elder, okay? We have to take our time with this investigation. Let's just... you know, watch her. Let's observe her behavior and see how her system reacts to our world. And like you previously stated, you’ve formally placed her in my good graces for the time being. I will personally watch over her, take care of her physical recovery, and ensure that she doesn't do a single thing wrong. And, well..."
" If it turns out at the end of the day that she actually is a witch?”
Elder Cyphros cuts through my sentence, his voice hitting me like a physical blow. The sudden interruption forces me to blink, my mouth stalling as I look at him, completely unsure of how to reply. He walks closer, stepping into my personal space until he is standing directly in front of me, his massive presence completely blotting out the ambient light of the fire.
“If it turns out at the end of the day that she is indeed a witch, Kaelen... what exactly are you going to do about it?” he asks.
The question is a trap, a lethal razor hanging in the quiet room. I grind my teeth together so hard the muscles in my jaw bulge, my eyelids fluttering rapidly as a storm of emotions erupts inside my chest.
Lord, I really, desperately don't want her to be a witch. It isn't that I would hate her for it. In truth, I don't even care what kind of supernatural race she turns out to be—vampire, shifter, or witch, it changes nothing for the beast inside me.
But the reality is terrifying: I cannot lose her. I have been plagued, haunted, and tortured by the hyper-vivid image of her face for months—for almost a whole year. I can't keep living like a ghost in my own skin, trapped in a loop of phantom desires. I can't just let her go now that I finally have her standing in the flesh within my own quarters.
But beneath the selfish hunger of my wolf, there is a heavy, unyielding responsibility I owe to the survival of my people. I am the future leader of the Crescent Pack, and I owe a duty not just to my family, but to the entire supernatural world where I originated.
I close my eyes, a long, heavy exhale escaping my lips as I force the alpha mask back over my features. When I open them, my gaze is steady, empty of the chaos inside.
“As you wish, sir,” I say, my voice dropping to a formal, absolute register. “If she turns out to be a witch... then I guess she is simply not permitted to exist within our walls.”
Elder Cyphros lets out a low, amused chuckle, the tensed lines around his eyes relaxing just a fraction as he nods his head slowly in approval. “I knew I could trust you to do the right thing when the time came, Kaelen. Your father raised a true leader. Now, I am not going to hinder your progress. You have my permission to watch over her, to observe her closely. We are going to coordinate the observation ritual with Ciara to figure out the truth of this anomaly. But never forget your oath, boy. You know exactly what must be done if she turns out to become one of our enemies.”
I bite down hard against my lower lip, the metallic taste of blood on my tongue. “Yes, sir. I know.”
“You may leave,” he says, turning his back to me once more to stare into the dying embers of the hearth.
I turn around slowly, my movements deliberate as I begin the long walk toward the timber exit. My legs feel weirdly weak, the muscles heavy as if the weight of the Council’s secrets is a physical burden crushing my bones.
Oh goddess, you have to do something, Kaelen, the thought is a frantic scream in my own mind. You have to figure out a way to shield her before the ritual begins.
I reach the heavy oak door and reach out to grasp the brass handle. I twist it and pull the door open, but before I can even take a step into the corridor, a heavy, cloaked figure suddenly stumbles straight into the room. It looks as though the person had been leaning their entire body weight against the wood, listening to our conversation through the paneling.
I jolt backward on pure instinct, my muscles locking into a defensive stance as I frown deeply down at the intruder. She scrambles to find her footing, her dark robes swirling around her ankles as she looks up at me with wide, frantic eyes. She looks exactly like a deer caught in the blinding headlights of a speeding truck.
My chest tightens as I recognize the vibrant violet of her eyes.
“Ciara?” I ask, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous hiss that rattles the quiet hallway. “What the fuck are you doing here?”