Chapter 263 WHERE POWER COLLIDES
Nixx
Something about it felt wrong. She had my scent all over her—she was with me. I was supposed to protect her.
Mirabelle crossed her arms, her posture daring. "Yeah, that’s right. Is that a problem? You gonna throw me across the yard, too?" Her eyes flashed, challenging him.
Maxim chuckled lightly, shaking his head as if she amused him. Then, before I could react, he reached out and took her hand. That single touch set off alarm bells inside me.
"I’d never do that to a woman," he said smoothly, bringing her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles softly. My stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sight. "My apologies for the earlier comment. I've just never met an oracle so young. I always thought they came as wise old ladies," he laughed, the sound loud and carefree.
To my growing irritation, Mirabelle actually laughed along with him. A blush spread across her cheeks.
That was it.
A low, warning growl escaped from deep within me, my wolf rising to the surface in response. I wasn't happy, and neither was my wolf. Max let go of Mirabelle’s hand and turned his full attention to me, his expression unreadable. Our eyes locked, and for a moment, tension crackled between us like electricity.
He cocked his head, his voice mocking as he asked, "Does this female belong to you? I don't see a mark."
Before I could open my mouth, Mirabelle spoke up, her tone firm. "Oracles don’t have mates."
Maxim smiled, clearly amused by this.
My patience snapped. "No, I’m not her mate," I said, my voice tight. "But I did get her pregnant. We even got the sonogram today. Want to see it?" I raised an eyebrow, throwing the challenge right back at him.
Maxim’s eyes went wide, and I saw Mirabelle's jaw tighten in response. He glanced down at her stomach, then back up, clearing his throat awkwardly. "I see," he said, clearly thrown off balance for the first time. "Well, I guess I don’t need to ask permission to invite her to my table then, do I?" He gave her a smile, and it was obvious he was having fun trying to provoke me.
I narrowed my eyes, my irritation morphing into something darker. I wasn’t a fan of this guy. Not even a little. My wolf snarled inside me, pressing forward as I let out a loud, warning growl, baring my teeth in his direction. I could feel the tension rising, the primal urge to defend what was mine clawing at me.
Maxim looked unbothered, though. He just laughed again, stepping toward me with a dark, sneaky look in his eyes. Animalistic. He wanted to push me, test me, and see what I'd do.
But before either of us could make a move, something shifted in the air around us. A strange hush fell over the pack, and suddenly, all the wolves nearby turned their backs on us, almost in unison. It was eerie, like a wave of silence crashing over the crowd.
Both Maxim and I frowned, confused, as we turned to see what had drawn everyone’s attention.
Then I saw him.
Right near the fire, emerging from the trees like some kind of myth come to life, was Percival. His massive frame glistened in the flickering firelight, shirtless, with nothing but sweatpants hanging low on his hips. Every step he took seemed deliberate, his muscles rippling with each slow, powerful movement. The tattoos that covered his body stood out starkly in the glow of the flames, and there was a fresh one on his skin, still vivid and new.
He looked like he was walking straight out of hell—his movements calm, controlled. Even though his head was tilted slightly downward, those eyes of his...
His cold blue eyes scanned the crowd, dangerous and unblinking, like a predator assessing his prey.
The wolves around us seemed paralyzed, unsure of what to do. They hadn’t seen what I had seen. They didn’t know what I knew. Percival had changed. He wasn’t the same wolf who had left months ago.
He walked straight to the food table, ignoring the stares of hundreds of wolves as he casually piled food onto a plate, as if nothing had happened. As if he hadn’t just reappeared out of nowhere, radiating raw power. The air around him was charged, thick with tension. Every muscle in my body tightened in response, my jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
I could smell the testosterone, the raw dominance pouring off him. It was overwhelming.
Maxim stood beside me, grinning as if enjoying the show. He crossed his arms, his gaze locked on Percival. "Well, well, well," he murmured, clearly intrigued.
No one else moved. No one dared to speak. The silence was suffocating.
While making his plate, Percival glanced up, his expression casual, as if this were any other pack cookout. But then, something shifted in his demeanor. His eyes lit up with a dangerous edge as he slowly scanned the crowd, locking eyes with every wolf he could see. His lips quirked into a smirk, tongue briefly darting out to wet his lips as he raised an eyebrow.
His deep voice boomed across the gathering, "Does anyone have a problem?"
It was loud enough for the entire pack to hear, his tone daring anyone to challenge him. The tension in the air was thick, and no one dared to move at first.
But then Gaspar shook his head, muttering, "Ah shīt." He strode toward Percival, his movements slow and deliberate. When he got close enough, he leaned in to whisper something in Percival’s ear. Whatever was said made Percival smile—a slow, dangerous smile that curled his lips. He whispered something back, sending Gaspar away with a shrug. The General pulled out his phone, uninterested in what was about to unfold.
Next to me, Maxim chuckled, dark amusement flickering in his eyes. His arms crossed over his chest, clearly enjoying the show that was about to begin.
Percival walked toward the open stretch of land, raising his hands as if inviting everyone to take their best shot. "Don't be shy," he called out, his voice dripping with challenge. His steps were measured as he began circling, his eyes darkening with every word. "If anyone wants to challenge me, here I am!" He laughed, and it was a cruel, wild sound that echoed through the air.