Chapter 79 Rogue

Chapter 79 Rogue
Cain POV
The wind clawed at my wings as I cut through the dusk sky, pushing harder, faster, needing the familiar dark stone of the castle to rise into view. My mind churned with too many thoughts, Ava’s safety, the audacity of the elders, the growing unrest in the territories. Everything lately felt as if it were shifting beneath my feet, and I had no patience left for games.
The castle towers finally broke through the dimming horizon. I angled downward, landed in the courtyard with a thud, and shifted the moment my feet hit the ground. Raymond was already striding out to meet me, face tight with questions he didn’t have to ask.
“You’re back early,” he said, falling in beside me as I headed through the main hall.
“We’re going to the elders,” I said without slowing.
His brows jumped. “Now?”
“They’ve forgotten their place.” My jaw ached from clenching it. “Either they submit, or I make them submit.”
A flicker of grim satisfaction crossed his face. “Then I’m coming with you.”
“You didn’t have a choice,” I muttered, though a thin thread of gratitude pulled through the frustration.
We left immediately. The sky deepened into indigo by the time we reached the elders’ settlement, their old stone buildings glowing with torchlight. Usually the whole area reeked of brittle arrogance, tradition layered thick enough to suffocate. But tonight, the air trembled with unease.
They felt us coming.
Raymond and I stepped into the council chamber. The elders stiffened where they sat, robes rustling as fear rippled through the room before they smothered it behind brittle composure.
Cain, their eyes said. Why is he here? What does he know?
I didn’t give them the luxury of silence.
“You’ll stop your games,” I said, my voice echoing sharply against the ancient walls. “Your whispering ends now. And you will not—ever—strike my castle again or touch what is mine.”
Several of them sucked in breaths. So they had been thinking it. Planning something. Probably something indirect and pathetic, but still enough to make them guilty.
“If any of you come after my mate again,” I continued, “I will kill every last one of you. No hesitation. No discussion afterward.”
A ripple of unease moved through the room. A few of them straightened, grasping at scraps of dignity.
“You speak as if you know our intentions,” one of them said weakly.
“I do.” I let the words hang there, heavy. “And you would be wise not to test me.”
Silence thickened, cold and frightened. Good.
I turned sharply and Raymond followed. We didn’t speak until we were back under the night sky. When we launched into the air again, the tension finally shattered in the rush of wind.
“They’ll fall in line,” Raymond said once we landed in the courtyard again. “Fear always works.”
“For now,” I muttered. “Keep watch. I want every inch of this castle under your eyes. If anything stirs—anything at all—you tell me immediately.”
Raymond nodded. “Always.”
I clasped his arm once before shifting again. My wings beat the air as I took off toward the park, toward the one place where my mind could breathe, toward the one person who steadied every chaotic thing inside me.
By the time I landed, moonlight drenched the castle park in silver. I shifted back and strode into the throne room, expecting routine quiet.
Instead, one of my guards burst in, dropping to one knee. “My King—” he breathed. “We caught a rogue.”
A jolt shot through me. “Where?”
“Locked in the dungeon. She was crossing the outer border.”
I didn’t hesitate. The guard hurried to keep pace as I moved through the halls and down the winding stairs into the dungeon’s dim chill. Torches flickered, shadows stretching long against rough stone.
When we reached the cell, the rogue wasn’t what I’d imagined.
A young woman, clothes torn from travel, knelt trembling in the corner. The instant she saw me, she fell forward onto her hands, voice cracking.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please—Alpha—I’m begging you. Mercy.”
Her scent hit me, fear, exhaustion… and nothing deceptive. Still, fear made liars, and I wouldn’t assume anything.
“Why did you enter my territory?” I asked, stepping closer. “Speak honestly.”
“I… I needed shelter.” Her voice wavered. Tears streaked her face. “My pack fell. I’ve been running. I thought maybe—maybe your people—” She broke off, breath hitching. “I just don’t want to die out there.”
I stiffened slightly. Desperation could be real. Or it could be bait.
“Did someone send you?” I asked, my voice sharpening.
“No,” she blurted immediately, shaking her head so violently her hair slapped against her face. “No one sent me. I swear it. I’m alone.”
I watched her closely, reading every flicker of her eyes, every tremor of her breath. Nothing about her rang false.
Slowly, I exhaled. “Open the cell.”
The guard hesitated. “My King—”
“Do it.”
He unlocked the door. The metal groaned open, and the woman flinched back, bracing for punishment that didn’t come. When I stepped aside, confusion flooded her expression.
“You’ll be released,” I said. “A guard will take you to a room. You’ll be watched, but you will not be harmed.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. A sob of relief escaped her. “Thank you. Thank you, Alpha. I won’t cause trouble.”
I gave a short nod. “Get her settled,” I ordered the guard. “Food, clothing, and a place to sleep.”
“Yes, my King.”
Their footsteps faded down the hall, leaving the air finally, mercifully, still.
I turned and made my way back up the stairs, exhaustion pulling at every muscle. Every corridor I crossed brought me closer to the only thing I wanted tonight: Ava.
The door to our chamber was slightly open. I slipped inside quietly.
Ava slept curled on her side, wrapped in soft blankets, hair scattered over the pillow in dark, silken waves. Moonlight touched her face gently, softening every angle, turning her into something almost too perfect to look at without feeling unworthy.
I shed my boots and eased onto the bed beside her. As soon as I slid close, her body instinctively sought mine, fitting against me like she had always belonged there.
I wrapped my arms around her, breathing in the warmth of her skin, the familiar quiet of her presence.
“I’m back,” I murmured into her hair.
She didn’t wake, but she relaxed, pressing closer, and that was enough.