Chapter 189: My Angel | 082

AZREN

The witch has yet to show up. So we change our minds about the venue of our next event.

Boys’ night starts in the most dignified way possible with Haden chained to a chair, bleeding from every hole, and the three of us cracking open a bottle of century-old whiskey like it’s a casual Saturday.

Jake pours three generous glasses, then looks at Haden and pours a fourth… right onto the bastard’s head.

“Cheers, you walking corpse,” Jake says cheerfully.

Haden sputters, whiskey mixing with blood on his face. “Fuck you.”

Cam raises his glass. “To our Alpha finally getting permission from his wife like a responsible adult.”

I flip them both off but take the drink anyway. The whiskey burns nicely going down. Mixed with wolfsbane, the burn lingers.

For the first twenty minutes, it is almost civilized. We sit in a semi-circle like we are at a business meeting. Then Jake gets bored.

“Truth or torture?” he asks, grinning like a maniac.

Haden laughs weakly. “You think you can break me?”

Jake looks at me. “Alpha?”

I lean forward with my elbows on my knees, interested.

“Break him.”

What follows is the most unhinged boys’ night in the history of supernatural kind.

Jake starts with basic questions while Cam holds a blowtorch like it is a party favor. Every time Haden gives a smartass answer, Cam casually heats up a new tool. At one point Jake gets so annoyed he makes Haden do push-ups while singing “I’m a Little Teapot.”

I am on my third glass when the whiskey finally loosens my tongue.

“You know what’s fucked?” I mutter, staring at the floor. “I used to think I was scary. Now I’m terrified of disappointing a woman who weighs less than my left arm.”

Cam snorts. “You’re so whipped it’s actually impressive.”

Jake leans back, laughing. “Bro. You asked your wife for permission. On speaker. You’re in deep.”

Haden, who is half-conscious and bleeding, still tries to talk shit.

“Your little mate is probably getting railed by someone else right now while you sit here crying into your cup—”

I don’t even stand up. I just flick my wrist.

Demonic energy lashes out and sets his left pinky on fire. He screams.

Jake whistles. “Nice. Clean shot.”

Cam refills my glass. “Drink, Alpha. You need it tonight.”

Two hours later, we are properly drunk.

Jake has started a game called ‘Rate the Trauma’ where we rate our worst moments on a scale of 1-10 while making Haden guess which ones are real. Haden is missing three fingers and most of his dignity by then.

At some point I end up sprawled on the floor, staring at the ceiling.

“I love her so much it hurts,” I confess to the dusty lightbulb above me. “She brought me flowers. Flowers. No one’s ever given me flowers. I wanted to cry like a little bitch.”

Cam pats my shoulder. “We know, man. We know.”

Jake is crying actual tears from laughing so hard. “The big bad tribrid got flowers and almost cried. I’m telling Noelle.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” I growl, but I am smiling.

Haden, in a last pathetic attempt at defiance, rasps, “She’ll leave you, you pathetic freak. Just like any other woman would.”

I roll my head to look at him.

“Jake,” I say calmly. “Light his balls on fire.”

Jake stands up with way too much enthusiasm. “With pleasure.”

The screams that follow are almost therapeutic.

By 2 a.m., Haden is barely conscious, we are all drunk, and I feel lighter than I have in weeks.

“The witch is here, Alpha.”

We all look up at the sound of Darrell’s voice.

I blink slowly, still sprawled on the floor with an empty glass in my hand. The room smells like blood, whiskey, and burnt flesh. Haden is barely conscious in his chair, missing his fingers, his balls scorched, and his dignity long gone.

Jake and Cam both turn towards the door.

A young woman steps in behind Darrell. She cannot be older than twenty-five, with sharp cheekbones, silver hair, and eyes that glow faintly violet. She takes one look at the scene and her eyebrows shoot up.

“Well,” she says dryly, “you boys really know how to set the mood.”

I push myself up with a groan, swaying slightly. “You’re late.”

She gives me a flat look. “You’re drunk.”

“How observant,” I mutter.

Jake grins like an idiot. “He’s had a rough week. Cut him some slack.”

The witch sighs and walks further into the cell. Her eyes sweep over Haden, who weakly lifts his head and sneers at her.

“Get on with it, witch bitch,” he rasps.

She doesn’t even blink. She pulls a small obsidian vessel from her bag, etched with glowing runes, and sets it on the table.

“The name’s Kara. I will extract his essence,” she says calmly. “It won’t be pleasant. For him, mostly. But there’s always a risk of leakage. Essence is slippery. Especially old, rotten essence like his.”

I nod, cracking my neck. “Do it.”

She begins chanting in a language that makes my skin crawl. The air grows thick, heavy with ozone and old magic. Haden starts laughing at first… then he screams as golden-black threads of his essence begin ripping out of his body like smoke being sucked into the vessel.

He thrashes hard, his veins bulging, blood pouring from his eyes and mouth.

“Fuck you, Lakewood!” he howls. “I’ll still breed her in the next life—”

A stray thread of dark essence suddenly breaks free from the main stream.

It shoots towards me like a living shadow.

I try to dodge, but I am still drunk and slow. The essence slams into my chest, stinging as it burrows under my skin.

“Shit—” I growl, staggering back.

Pain tears through my ribs. For a second, I feel Haden’s sick, obsessive hunger for Noelle flood my mind. Then it is gone, swallowed by my own darkness.

Kara’s eyes widen. “Some of it got into you.”

Jake and Cam are instantly at my side.

“You good, Alpha?” Cam asks, gripping my arm.

I exhale heavily, feeling the foreign power settle uneasily inside me. It feels… wrong. Like oil has just mixed with my blood. But it also feels stronger.

“I’m fine,” I rasp, rolling my shoulders. The runes on my chest pulse once, then they settle. “Just got a little souvenir.”

Haden’s body finally goes limp, the glass vessel now glowing with swirling dark energy.

Kara seals it with a drop of her own blood. “It’s done. His essence is contained. Mostly.”

I stare at the vessel, then at Haden’s broken body.

“Good,” I say. “Now we can really start.”

Jake looks at me, half-worried and half-excited. “What now?”

I smile, the new shard of Haden’s power twisting inside me like a second heartbeat.

“Now we go home to my wife… and figure out how to use this.”

….

The underground corridor feels longer on the way out.

Every step echoes too loudly. Jake and Cam flank me, still half-drunk and laughing about the way Haden screamed when his balls caught fire. I try to smile. It comes out crooked.

Haden’s essence is burning inside me now.

It is not just power. It is him—sick, obsessive, and hungry. A shard of his soul has burrowed in like a parasite, and it is already whispering.

‘She’s so soft… so fertile… imagine her belly round with your pups… our pups…’

I clench my jaw so hard my teeth ache.

“Alpha?” Cam glances at me. “Are you good?”

“Fine,” I lie.

But I am not.

The essence pulses again, hotter this time. A flash of memory that is not mine pushes into my skull.

Noelle on her back, legs spread, moaning while someone who looks like me but is not fucks her with brutal strokes.

Haden’s fantasy. His voice laughs in my head.

‘She took my cock so well… begged for my seed… you think she won’t beg for my claim again?’

I stop walking.

Jake notices immediately. “Az?”

I shake my head, pressing the heel of my hand against my eye. “It’s nothing. Just… the whiskey.”

They do not believe me, but they let it go.

By the time we reach the surface, the essence has settled into a low, constant burn. It feels like my own darkness has been given a voice.

It is darker, crueler, and obsessed with breeding and claiming in the most primal way possible. Every thought of Noelle now comes with a violent urge I do not want.

‘Fill her. Breed her. Make her swell. Mark her so deep no one else can ever touch what’s ours.’

I growl under my breath.

The worst part is part of me likes it. The power roaring in my veins makes the runes on my chest feel almost… manageable.

But at what cost?

When we finally step into the penthouse, the lights are low. Noelle is waiting in the living room, curled on the couch in one of my shirts, her knees drawn up.

The second she sees me, her face lights up with that soft, relieved smile that always makes my chest hurt.

“Baby,” she breathes, standing up and walking straight into my arms.

I hug her too tightly. She smells like home.

But the essence inside me stirs greedily.

‘Take her right here. Bend her over the couch. Fill her until she’s dripping. Breed your little golden wolf until she can’t walk.’

I squeeze my eyes shut and force it down.

“Boys’ night went well?” Noelle asks.

Jake and Cam mutter quick goodnights and disappear, giving us space.

I stroke her back, trying to keep my hands gentle.

“It was… productive,” I say. My voice sounds rougher than usual. “Haden’s essence is contained. Mostly.”

She pulls back to look at me, searching my face. “Mostly?”