Chapter 100 100
The small house smelled of damp wood and ash, an improvised refuge after the castle's destruction. The walls creaked under the weight of the wind, and the windows, barely covered with boards, let thin threads of gray light slip through. Thorne sat in a carved chair—the only piece that had survived the lost splendor—his imposing figure bent by exhaustion. He didn’t look his best: hair disheveled, hands marked by fresh cuts, and a dull sheen in his eyes. But there he was, presiding over the council, because he had to. The castle might lie in ruins, shattered by the rage of his children, but his authority refused to bend.
Enzo was not there. His absence weighed on the room, a void no one mentioned but everyone felt. In his place, across from Thorne, sat her: Valyerek, the new representative of the humans. She was young—too young for such a position—with loose blond hair falling over her shoulders, her body wrapped in tight brown leather covered in tattoos that didn’t look like mere drawings. Curved lines, sharp angles, engravings that glowed faintly under the dim light, and her blue eyes locked onto Thorne without blinking.
“Why so young?” Thorne asked, his deep voice slicing through the silence as he leaned forward. “What happened to the old humans? Are they irrelevant already?”
Valyerek smiled, a subtle curve of her lips, and crossed her arms, letting the light highlight the ink on her skin.
“Is there a problem with my youth?” she said, her tone firm, without a trace of doubt. “I’m the one in charge now.”
Thorne frowned, his hands tightening on the arms of the chair. He stood slowly and took a step toward her. His figure was still a wall, even exhausted, and the floor trembled faintly under his weight. He approached, leaning in, his nose brushing the air near her neck. It wasn’t entirely intimidation; it was instinct—a wolf scenting the unknown. His eyes narrowed, and he stepped back, staring at her fixedly.
“You don’t smell human,” he said, his voice low, a contained growl.
Valyerek held his gaze without moving, her eyes gleaming with something that wasn’t fear.
“I don’t smell like weakness,” she replied, and her smile widened, sharp as a blade.
Thorne let out a dry laugh, a sound that echoed off the wooden walls, and returned to his chair, sitting down with a thud that made the floor creak. She followed, taking the seat across from him, her hands resting relaxed on the table. The room was tense, the air thick with something unnamed but felt by all. Thorne drummed his fingers, his gaze fixed on her, unsettled by that scent he couldn’t decipher.
“Let’s talk about the vampire,” Valyerek said, breaking the silence, her voice cutting like glass. “The intruder. Aidan. He crossed my border, left chaos in my city, and now he’s in your territory. What happened? He crossed from vampire land… into wolf land. What’s the point? Why?”
Thorne leaned forward, his hands stilling, and his gaze hardened.
“I’m not giving details about that,” he replied curtly. “My patrols spotted him, chased him, but he escaped. He’s fast—too fast. I already have a team searching for him, well-equipped. They won’t rest until they catch him. I figure by dawn they’ll have him.”
“Good,” she said, nodding. “My borders are secured now. Hunters on every line, weapons ready. But I want to know your position. What will you do with him once you have him?”
Thorne didn’t answer right away. His eyes dropped to Valyerek’s tattoos, those faintly glowing lines, and something tightened in his chest. He stood again, approaching her slowly, deliberately. His large, scar-marked hand rose and gripped her face—firm but not violent—forcing her to look at him. His eyes bored into hers, searching, digging. She didn’t move, didn’t tremble, despite standing before the strongest man in the place. Her lips curved in a calm, almost defiant smile.
“What are they?” he asked, his finger brushing one of the tattoos on her arm, the lines cool beneath his touch.
She didn’t answer, only smiled wider, her eyes shining with a secret she wouldn’t share. Thorne frowned, his grip tightening slightly on her face, and his voice dropped to a deep growl.
“What are you?” he pressed, and the air grew taut, the room holding its breath.
Valyerek tilted her head just slightly within his grasp and spoke, her voice soft but cutting.
“The person who’s going to change things,” she said, and her words hung in the air—heavy, alive.
The door burst open with a crash that shattered the silence, and two figures strode in, their steps resounding on the wood. Ezequiel and Emmanuel. Thorne’s twins, their faces hard, eyes blazing with contained fury. Emmanuel strode toward Valyerek, body tense, while Ezequiel dropped into a corner seat, arms crossed, staring at the human.
“We want you to hand over the vampire,” Emmanuel said, his voice chopping like an axe as he stopped in front of her. “Now. Where is he?”
Valyerek rose slowly, her boots tapping softly against the floor. She walked toward him, her smile growing, and raised a hand to touch his shoulder. Emmanuel reacted fast, seizing her wrist to stop her. But she was faster—her other hand reached his arm, touching him with firm fingers. Their eyes met, and the room froze, the air crackling with something electric.
“A pleasure to meet the strongest alpha who will ever exist,” she said, her voice soft, almost a whisper, and her smile widened—bright, dangerous.
Emmanuel stared at her, his grip tightening on her wrist, but he didn’t let go. His eyes narrowed, searching hers, and the silence grew heavy, broken only by Ezequiel’s low chuckle from the corner. Thorne watched, motionless, fists clenching, still disturbed by Valyerek’s scent—a mystery he couldn’t unravel.
“What game is this?” Emmanuel asked, his voice low, a growl that vibrated through the floor.
“No game,” she replied, and her hand slid from his arm as she stepped back. “Just truths you haven’t seen yet.”
Thorne stepped forward, his shadow falling across the table, his gaze shifting from Valyerek to his sons—hard, sharp.
“Enough,” he said, his voice a thunder that filled the room. “The vampire is mine until I have him. After that, we’ll see who claims him. He doesn’t belong here—he’ll go to Enzo. Emmanuel… what business do you have with Aidan? We still have a pending conversation… Why was he with you when Enzo captured him?”
“That’s none of your concern,” Emmanuel replied.
“And the vampire is your concern?”
“Where is he?” Emmanuel asked, dodging his father’s question.
“Here,” Valyerek answered. “He left our territory and is now in yours.”
Emmanuel and Ezequiel exchanged a glance.
They had to find him before Thorne did.
Valyerek tilted her head, smile intact, and sat again, crossing her legs calmly. Ezequiel chuckled again, low, while Emmanuel remained standing, eyes fixed on her.
“You shouldn’t be here,” Thorne said, giving his sons a signal to leave the room.
“We’re going,” Emmanuel replied, casting a quick look at his brother.
“Goodbye, Emmanuel,” the woman said just before they left.
(…)
EMMANUEL
We stepped out of the house, the cold air hitting my face, and my chest burned with one thing on my mind: Aidan.
Ezequiel walked beside me, his steps heavy, his laugh from the room still ringing in my ears. Valyerek’s voice, that damn smile of hers, clung to my mind, but I shoved it away. No time for games or that strange human. Aidan was back in wolf territory, and we had to find him before Dad did.
“Let’s go to Darius,” I said sharply, glancing at my brother.
No more words needed. We ran, boots pounding the damp earth, the forest opening before us like a mouth ready to swallow us whole. The house faded behind us, small and fragile against whatever was coming. Darius, Dad’s beta, would know something. He always did. He was his shadow, his eyes when Dad couldn’t see.
We found him near the river, his tall figure leaning against a tree. Arms crossed, but his sharp eyes tracked us, waiting. I stopped in front of him, breath coming in white clouds, Ezequiel tense at my side, ready.
“Where’s Aidan?” I asked, direct, no preamble.
Darius looked at me, head tilting slightly, mouth hardening into a thin line.
“The vampire,” he said, voice low and dry. “The team lost him near the Scarlet Moon pack. He moved fast—too fast. They set out from there to track him, but no word yet.”
“Scarlet Moon?” I repeated, mind spinning. “That’s north.”
“Yeah,” he replied, eyes narrowing. “Your father isn’t happy, Emmanuel. That intruder shouldn’t be here. What do you know that you’re not telling me?”
“Nothing that concerns you,” I hissed, stepping back.
We didn’t wait. Ezequiel met my eyes, a wild glint in them, and we shifted in a blink. My body cracked, skin giving way to fur, claws sinking into the earth. Ezequiel beside me—huge, fierce, fangs gleaming in the fading light between the trees. We ran, the forest shaking under our paws, wind slicing through our fur. Scarlet Moon. If Aidan passed through there, he’d leave a trail, and we’d find it.
The ground flew beneath my claws, trees blurring into shadows. My nose searched—the air thick with scents: wet earth, rotting leaves, distant wolves. But Aidan was here, somewhere. His scent wasn’t like ours, even with that collar disguising it. There was something about him, something that didn’t fit, and I felt it—a pull dragging me forward. We had to protect him.
Until Ezequiel and I took over the pack, until we could change things, Aidan was in danger.
“Do you think Dad will kill him?” Ezequiel’s voice roared in my head, a mental growl as we ran.
“Not if we find him first,” I answered, breath coming in pants. “I won’t let him touch him.”
“What about Enzo?” my brother asked. “He took him before… I couldn’t do anything.”
“We’ll kick Enzo’s ass if he tries to lay a hand on Aidan again.”
We ran faster, paws slamming the earth in a rhythm that shook the forest. Scarlet Moon was close—the scent of their pack reaching me faintly—but still no trace of Aidan. I thought of Lois, her pale face in my mind, her eyes searching for me even when I wasn’t there.
Could the four of us ever be together? The idea struck me—strange, distant, but real. We were one somehow, and protecting Aidan meant protecting her.
“There,” Ezequiel growled, muzzle pointing toward a clearing.
I stopped, claws digging into the dirt, and sniffed. Faint, but there: a trace of him, a hint of something not wolf. Aidan had passed through here. My eyes swept the clearing—broken trees. I turned, following the trail, Ezequiel matching my stride.
“He’s heading west,” I said, voice low in my mind. “Toward the edge.”
“The forbidden territory,” he replied, growl vibrating in my head. “What the hell is he doing there?”
I didn’t know. But Lois was there—I felt it, a pull I couldn’t explain but that squeezed my chest. We ran again, the forest thickening, trees closing over us. Aidan’s trail grew stronger—his sweat mingling in the air—and my heart pounded hard and fast. We had to reach him. Dad couldn’t have him. I wouldn’t let him hand him over to Enzo, not after everything.
“And if we find him?” Ezequiel asked, voice cutting through as we leaped a stream. “What do we do with him?”
“We keep him alive,” I answered, claws tearing the earth. “Until we can control this. Until the pack is ours.”
Ezequiel didn’t reply, but I felt his agreement—a silent growl in my mind. The forest opened again, and Aidan’s trail faded, dissolving into sweet air that didn’t belong to wolves. I looked around, eyes searching, and saw the edge: silver trees, tall, faintly glowing, golden leaves falling slowly. The forbidden territory. Aidan was there—and Lois too?
“He’s close,” I said.
Ezequiel stopped beside me, fangs gleaming. We looked at each other for a second, then continued, paws moving faster, the forest trembling beneath us.