Chapter 144 The Plan
Rowan stepped out of Fernando’s office, pulling the door shut behind him with a quiet click. He turned the corner and collided hard with someone coming the opposite way.
Mira stumbled back a step, eyes widening in shock. “You.”
Rowan froze, breath catching. “Mira…”
He said her name slowly, almost reverently, like he was tasting it after decades of silence.
Mira’s expression hardened instantly. She rolled her eyes and turned to walk away without a word.
Rowan lunged forward, catching her wrist. “Wait—please.”
Mira spun, yanking her hand free with enough force to make him stagger. “Do not touch me,” she hissed. “Do not come near me again, Rowan Ashford, or I swear I will poison you so slowly you’ll beg for death before it comes.”
Rowan stared at her, pain flashing across his face. He dropped to his knees right there in the corridor, head bowed.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry, Mira. I never meant—”
“Save it,” she snapped. “You don’t get to show up after twenty-five years and apologize like that fixes anything.”
Rowan lifted his head just enough to meet her eyes. “Our son. Is he… is he well? Does he—”
Mira bent down to his level, voice dropping to a lethal whisper. “Never ask me about the child you never cared about. You left. You chose immortality over us. You don’t get to ask about him now.”
She straightened, turned on her heel, and walked away without looking back.
Rowan stayed on his knees for several seconds, shoulders slumped, breathing uneven.
A shadow fell across him.
Darius stepped forward from where he had been watching, arms crossed. “You’re acquainted with Mira.”
Rowan looked up slowly, then pushed himself to his feet. “Yes.”
Darius tilted his head. “How?”
Rowan exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “She was my first love. I abandoned her to pursue immortality. I never thought she’d still be alive and well.”
Darius’s brows shot up. “You were lovers twenty-five years ago? Then how old is she? She looks… twenty, maybe twenty-two at most.”
Rowan gave a faint, bitter smile. “Mira was born with a rare trait. Once she reached eighteen and claimed her wolf, she stopped aging. She is currently over fifty years old, but her body and face remain frozen at eighteen.”
Darius stared at him for a long moment. “She’s immortal too?”
“Not quite,” Rowan said. “She ages internally very slowly but her appearance never changes. The trait is rare. Almost as rare as Enigmas.”
Darius studied him. “You’re staying?”
Rowan glanced down the corridor where Mira had disappeared. “I didn’t plan to. Not at first. But now… yes. I will stay.”
Darius nodded once. “Then come. Have tea with me. We can talk. Privately.”
Rowan hesitated, then followed.
They walked in silence until they reached a small side chamber. Darius poured two cups of tea from a waiting pot and handed one to Rowan.
“Sit,” Darius said.
Rowan took the cup and sat. “Thank you.”
Darius sat opposite him. “I have questions.”
Rowan sipped his tea. “I expected as much.”
Darius leaned forward. “What really happened the night my father died? I’ve been told only two people know the full truth. You’re one of them.”
Rowan set his cup down carefully. “Some incidents and questions are not meant to be investigated. Digging into them will only cause more harm than good.”
Darius’s eyes narrowed. “That’s not an answer.”
Rowan met his gaze without flinching. “It is the only answer you will get from me on that matter. Your father’s death was not simple. But pursuing it now will unravel things you are not ready to face.”
Darius leaned back, fingers drumming on the table. “You’re protecting someone.”
“I’m protecting balance,” Rowan corrected. “And I’m warning you.”
Darius raised a brow. “Warning me?”
Rowan leaned forward slightly. “Do not attempt to rise to power beyond what you currently hold. You will pay for it with your life.”
Darius laughed once, short and sharp. “Is that a threat?”
“No,” Rowan said quietly. “It is a fact. The threads you are pulling are older and stronger than you realize. Pull too hard, and they will strangle you.”
Darius studied him. “You’re serious.”
“Deadly so.”
Rowan stood, setting his cup down untouched after the single sip.
Darius watched him. “Where are you going?”
“To speak with Mira again,” Rowan said. “And to keep watch. The storm is coming. You would do well to decide which side you stand on before it arrives.”
He patted Darius once on the back firm, almost paternal then walked out of the room without another word.
Darius remained seated, staring at the closed door.
The tea in his cup slowly cooled.
Darius sat alone in a quiet side room, staring at the wall, lost in thought. His mind kept circling back to Rowan’s words, the way Mira had looked at the immortal wolf, and the way Fernando had dismissed him earlier without hesitation. He rubbed his temple, trying to sort through the tangle of loyalties and suspicions.
A sharp knock broke the silence.
“Sir,” a guard said from the doorway. “Alpha Fernando is requesting your presence in his office. Immediately.”
Darius exhaled slowly and stood. “Tell him I’m coming.”
He dragged his feet down the corridor, each step heavier than the last. When he reached Fernando’s office, he pushed the door open without knocking and stepped inside. Fernando sat behind the desk, Alberto standing beside him, arms crossed.
Darius bowed stiffly. “You wanted to see me?”
Fernando gestured to the chair opposite him. “Sit. We need to discuss something.”
Darius’s lip curled. He remained standing. “Now you want to discuss things? After imposing orders and shutting me down in front of the council? Now I’m worthy of conversation?”
Fernando rolled his eyes. “Stop sulking, Darius. Sit.”
Darius stared at him for a long moment, then dropped into the chair with deliberate slowness. “Fine. I’m sitting. What do you want?”
Fernando leaned forward, elbows on the desk. “We need to stage an attack.”
Darius raised a brow. “An attack? On who?”
“On us,” Fernando said. “Or at least make it look like one. Alberto is in danger.”
Alberto shifted, frowning. “What kind of danger?”
Fernando glanced at him. “Master Rowan’s visit wasn’t just a visit. He came for him. He is the only Enigma alive who can stop the chaos that’s coming. Rowan knows it. The Lycan king will know it soon too. It’s only a matter of time before a royal decree comes down demanding him be handed over or hunted.”
Darius leaned back, arms crossed. “So you want to fake an attack to… what? Make it look like someone else got to him first?”
Fernando nodded. “Exactly. If the pack believes Alberto was taken or killed in an ambush, Rowan loses his leverage. The Lycan king loses his target. We buy time.”
Alberto rubbed his jaw. “And you think Rowan won’t see through it?”
Fernando met his eyes. “He might. But he won’t risk open war with our pack over a rumor. Not yet. We need to cut him out of the picture before he forces your memories back or convinces the Lycan to intervene.”
Darius tapped his fingers on the armrest. “Can’t we just speed up the coronation? Make Alberto Luna officially. That ties him to the pack even more. Harder for anyone to claim him.”
Fernando shook his head. “An official coronation requires the Lycan leader’s presence. They won’t agree to come not with Rowan whispering in their ear. And even if they did, it would take weeks to arrange. We don’t have weeks. We need to act now.”
Darius studied Fernando for a moment. “So the plan is to stage an attack, make it look like Alberto was taken or killed, and hope Rowan backs off long enough for us to figure out the next step.”
Fernando nodded. “Precisely.”
Darius smiled slowly, a dangerous glint in his eye. “I know someone who can keep Rowan busy.”
Fernando leaned forward. “Who?”
Darius’s smile widened.