Chapter 111 Alpha Ares Arrives

Chapter 111 Alpha Ares Arrives
Derik was one of those chosen few. Agar knew the young Alpha would eventually break the Black Wolf Pack free from their ancestral karma. First, Derik had cleansed the pack of a tyrannical, corrupted Alpha. Soon, he would lift the generational curse of the Moon Goddess.
Alphas who rejected their fated Lunas were always met with divine punishment. For generations, the Black Wolves had suffered under this blight, enduring plagued fertility among their males and a near-total inability of their females to conceive.
That was precisely why Agar agreed to intervene tonight. In any other circumstance, he would never stoop to such deception. Tricking a born Luna just so Derik could claim an heir went against everything he stood for. Yet, his intuition screamed that his involvement was mandatory. Though the full picture remained clouded, he stepped into the shadows, driven by blind faith in the gods and a deep, paternal love for young Alpha Derik, whom he viewed as his own flesh and blood.
When Agar arrived at the clearing, the sheer chaos made him sigh. The weight of his advanced years pressed heavily upon his shoulders; he was getting entirely too old to watch two reckless young Alphas tearing each other to pieces. They were two magnificent, majestic beasts locked in a brutal clash, when they had actually been born to stand united.
“These boys desperately need a lesson,” he muttered to himself.
Instead of putting an immediate end to the bloodbath, Agar purposely let them draw blood. Consider it the equivalent of a well-deserved spanking he would have gladly delivered to both of their asses if he had the strength.
He watched the spectacular display as Derik’s enraged lycan hurled a massive boulder. Ares dodged the projectile with feral speed. Roaring in fury, the opposing Alpha ripped a massive tree entirely from the earth—roots and all—using the trunk as a crude, devastating club to strike Derik. Derik vaulted over the incoming timber with lethal agility, leaping onto Ares’s back and tearing a deep, bloody gash across his massive shoulder.
Both beasts were drenched in crimson, heavily wounded, and panting heavily.
As the blows turned increasingly lethal, Agar decided it was time to step in. Moving with absolute composure, he pulled two specialized darts from his leather satchel and fired them into the thick of the fray, striking both Alphas simultaneously.
By the time the sharp whistling sound reached their heightened senses, it was already too late. Both massive wolves crashed heavily to the forest floor.
“I haven't survived this many solar cycles just to play babysitter to two brawling pups!” Agar grumbled.
He marched over and yanked the silver-tipped darts from the Alphas, who had already involuntarily shifted back into their human forms. Derik and Agar exchanged a brief, knowing look. Both knew the dart that had pierced Ares’s flesh carried a highly specific, alchemical concoction.
It was laced with potent toxins designed to simultaneously amplify his reaction to a female's heat while systematically suppressing his capacity for violence. Ares would be entirely consumed by a feral, overpowering arousal, but his basic instinct would lack the desire for bloodshed.
At least, not for tonight. Not during the Sacred Union Ceremony Derik was about to execute.
The wolves of the New Moon Pack, witnessing their invincible Alpha fall, immediately bared their fangs, preparing to howl a formal declaration of war. But when they saw Alpha Derik collapse beside him, they froze in stunned silence.
Derik’s pack remained perfectly calm. They stood in their human forms, watching the entire spectacle play out as if it were the most mundane event in the world.
Lord Agar stepped forward, gesturing warmly to Ares’s pack—including his highest-ranking Gamas—inviting them to cross the border and join the celebration. Not a single warrior dared to budge from their defensive positions. Sensing their hesitation, Agar leaned down and whispered a few choice words into Ares’s ear. The poisoned Alpha stumbled to his feet, swaying slightly, and barked a ragged command to his men, assuring them that all was well and ordering them to enter the clearing as honored guests.
“I have never seen Alpha Ares look so submissive,” Beta Eli murmured under his breath, earning a swift, painful smack to the back of his head from Agar.
“Watch your tongue, Beta!” Agar snapped. “Alpha Ares is merely showing rare sense. He knows his female is safe and currently awaiting him at the altar.”
In reality, the old man had whispered a calculated lie into Ares’s ear: he told him that the long-awaited Mating Ceremony between him and his human female was about to commence, and that he needed to hurry because he was keeping her waiting.
His mind completely hazy and drugged, Ares’s heart practically exploded with raw euphoria. Finally. He was going to claim Esmeralda. This was their Mating Ceremony. His sluggish brain couldn't quite recall when they had scheduled it, but a deep, primal joy took over. Inside his subconscious, his wolf was practically wagging its tail, panting with unadulterated bliss. His elusive third form—the ancient entity within him—remained quiet, disoriented, and fiercely protective of his human mate. He didn't care about the politics, the rival pack, or the trap. He only cared about reclaiming his female.
The entire world could burn to ash for all he cared, so long as Esmeralda was safely secured in his arms.
Derik stood up, his gaze clear, sharp, and resolute. The hour had finally come. As they marched in tense silence toward the center of the clearing, a suffocating wave of guilt clawed at his chest. When they finally broke through the tree line, the Black Wolf Pack was already gathered around a massive roaring bonfire. A dark, deeply carnal melody echoed through the trees as the unmated females of the pack took their positions, preparing to perform the fertility dance.
The crushing guilt was eating Derik alive, making it almost impossible to follow through with the deception. He turned a dead-serious gaze to Agar, leaning in to whisper a final, desperate option.
“It is either this, or we lose everything!” Derik hissed, his voice laced with absolute conviction.
The old man, his eyes flashing with a wicked glint and a slight, knowing smirk, slipped a small, dark vial into Derik’s waiting palm.
Nearby, Hira glided through the crowd, carrying a heavy chalice filled with the raw Elixir of Bacchus, offering the intoxicating brew to the high-ranking males flanking Alpha Derik. Esmeralda’s personal Gamas flatly refused to partake. Their sole, unwavering objective was her absolute protection. The moment they spotted her sitting atop the massive, cold stone of Hecate’s altar, they moved as a coordinated unit, forming an impenetrable defensive circle around her.
Esmeralda giggled at the sight of them, sliding off the rock to throw her arms around Antero. But the warrior caught her by the shoulders, firmly keeping her at a distance, refusing to let her touch his bare skin.
“Luna, return to the altar stone and stay there,” he commanded, his eyes flashing a bright, warning-filled silver under the moonlight, mimicking the rest of the Gamas.
Esmeralda pouted, feeling slightly rejected by her friend—though her drug-addled mind couldn't help but notice that he looked remarkably handsome and alluring tonight. But the moment she climbed back onto the sacred stone, her gaze landed on Ares. Her heart hammered so violently against her ribs it felt as though it might shatter her chest.
Ares locked eyes with her. His irises were completely black—a total, terrifying merging of all three of his primal forms.
Beautiful.
Perfect.
Mine.
Derik stepped directly into Ares’s path, blocking his line of sight. Ares instantly bared his claws, his muscles tensing to slaughter the opposing Alpha who dared to separate him from his mate. But before he could strike, an unnatural, oppressive calm washed over his mind and body, neutralizing his killing intent.
“Alpha Ares, wait,” Derik commanded.
“Get out of my way, Alpha Derik,” Ares growled, his voice a low, vibrating rumble.
“I am the one presiding over your Mating Ceremony tonight. And according to the ancient laws of my land, every male must consume this elixir to ensure their raw potency.”
Ares stared at him with pure, unadulterated disgust.
“Are the wolves of the Black Pack so utterly devoid of virility?” Ares sneered, his lip curling in revulsion as he rejected the offering. “Do your males truly require magical drafts just to mount a female?”
“It is better to be safe than sorry, Ares. This is sacred liturgy. You either drink the draft, or I refuse to conduct the ceremony—and Esmeralda will be deeply devastated.”
Inside his heavily drugged, clouded mind, Ares’s thoughts completely bypassed the insult, fixating solely on the word devastated. The mere thought of causing Esmeralda pain tore at his soul. Reluctantly, he snatched the vial, bringing it to his nose. His inner beast sniffed the liquid thoroughly, checking for lethal poisons, but found nothing that could truly harm an Alpha's constitution. He threw his head back and swallowed it whole.
“Very well,” Derik spoke, a dark, solemn gravity settling over his features as he faced the rival king. “Let us begin your Mating Ceremony, Alpha Ares. It is an absolute honor to host it on my lands.”