Chapter 94 94
Lois
I don’t know how I got here. My feet carried me, fleeing—always fleeing—as if running could erase what I am. The forest opened up a while ago, and now the air is different—heavier, sweet, as if someone had spilled honey over the earth. I’m in a place I don’t know. Forbidden territory, I suppose, though I’ve never seen it on the pack maps. No one talks about it. No one comes. Least of all me—an omega.
And I, stupid, weak, thought I could hide here. That they wouldn’t find me here. All I wanted was to get as far away from them as possible. I’m the reason for their misfortunes. I’m the cause of everything happening—even with Aidan.
Aidan…
The ground crunches beneath my feet, covered in golden leaves that gleam though there’s no sun. The trees are tall—taller than normal—with silver trunks that seem to glow from within. Everything is too quiet. No wind, no birds. Only the sound of my breathing—quick, ragged. I stop beside a stream, the water so clear I see my reflection: sunken eyes, pale cheeks—an omega who doesn’t deserve what she has. I’m the problem. I always have been.
I want to sit, to rest, but something pushes me forward. They’re fighting. I feel it deep in my chest—a heat that isn’t mine. Emmanuel—his fire strong, controlled. Ezequiel—wild, furious. And Thorne… something dark, immense, crushing them. My barrier trembles—the wall I’ve built with everything I have left so they won’t feel my fear, my guilt. I don’t want them to come for me. I don’t want them to suffer more because of me. But it hurts. It hurts so much.
“Who are you?” A soft voice pulls me from my thoughts, and I spin so fast I nearly fall.
She’s there, just steps away—and I don’t know how I didn’t see her before. She’s beautiful—tall, with black hair falling to her waist like a river of ink. Her skin is pale, almost luminous, and her eyes are an impossible green—like living emeralds. She wears a long white dress that floats though there’s no breeze. She doesn’t seem dangerous. She seems… unreal.
“I…” My voice shakes, and I hate myself for it. “I’m just passing through. I don’t want trouble.”
Another figure appears beside her—equally elegant. This one has golden hair, shining like sunlight, braided over her shoulder. Her eyes are deep blue, and her smile is warm—but there’s something about her that raises the hairs on my skin. I don’t know what they are. They don’t seem human, but not wolves either. I only know I shouldn’t be here.
“There’s no trouble here,” the golden-haired one says, her voice a song—soft, hypnotic. “Only peace. Stay a while. You look lost.”
I want to say no, to run—but my legs won’t move. Hunger hits me suddenly, a void twisting my stomach. I need blood. I feel it growing—a dark pull I don’t understand—but I push it down. I can’t let it control me.
What the hell is wrong with me?
This is thirst… blood thirst. Why? Is it because of Aidan?
“I’m fine,” I lie, taking a step back. My foot lands on something sharp—a stone or glass, I don’t know—and pain shoots through my ankle. I stumble, fall, my hands scraping the ground. Blood. A cut on my palm—small but red, bright. I stare, hypnotized, as it drips onto the golden leaves.
They approach—slow, graceful, as if floating. The dark-haired one kneels before me, her long fingers hovering over my hand. She doesn’t touch me, but I feel a chill crawl up my arm.
“What a curious scent,” she whispers, her green eyes gleaming brighter. “It’s not just wolf, is it?”
What does she mean?
The golden one leans in, inhaling the air as if my blood were perfume. Her smile sharpens, but remains beautiful—too perfect.
“Power,” she says, and her voice is no longer soft. “The blood of one of the great she-wolves runs through her veins. One of the ten who brought peace. But there’s more. Something mixed. Something… dark.”
My heart races. I don’t understand. I want to scream that they’re wrong—that I’m weak, that I’m nothing—but the hunger clouds my mind, and the cut on my hand burns as if alive. I try to stand, but the dark-haired one extends a hand, and an invisible force pushes me back to the ground. It’s not strong—but it’s enough. I’m trapped.
“She’ll serve,” the golden one says, her blue eyes darkening. “Even mixed, her blood is valuable.”
“What do you want?” My voice breaks—desperate. “Let me go! I’m nothing! I just want them to be okay!”
The dark-haired one tilts her head, as if my plea amuses her.
“They don’t matter,” she answers, her tone cold now—cutting. “You do. Stay still, little one. This will be quick.”
The golden one draws a silver goblet from her dress, and the dark-haired one murmurs something—a sound I don’t understand but that makes the air tremble. My blood drips faster, as if called, falling into the goblet with a sound that echoes in my head. I try to move—but I can’t. The hunger grows, my eyes burn, and I feel the bond again. Emmanuel. Ezequiel. Their fight. Their pain. The barrier trembles—but I hold it. They won’t feel this. They won’t know.
“I’m the problem,” I whisper, tears falling, mixing with the blood.
They don’t listen. The goblet glows, and the forbidden territory seems to awaken—trees whispering, the stream roaring. I’m lost. And they’re so far away.
What the hell are these women?
\[…\]
Emmanuel
I don’t let him go. Not after what he did—what he said. My blood boils, and the fire in my chest roars like a beast I can no longer contain. Ezequiel stands beside me, breathing hard, his wild gaze fixed on Father as he walks away through the castle ruins. No. This doesn’t end like this. Not while he still threatens to take her from us. I look at my brother—a quick nod—and he understands. We are one. We always have been.
“Father!” I shout, my voice thundering through the dust-laden air. “You’re not leaving! Not until you understand!”
He stops, his broad back turning slightly, eyes blazing with that dark fire I’ve always feared. But not today. Today I’m not his pup. I’m an alpha. I tear off my shredded shirt, and my body breaks—twists—skin giving way to fur that covers everything. My claws rake the earth, a growl shaking my wolf throat. Ezequiel shifts with me—his wolf rising beside mine, fangs bared, ready to tear.
Father says nothing. He only unleashes a roar that shakes the ground, and his human form dissolves in a whirlwind of flames. His wolf emerges—massive, scarred pelage mapping wars. His eyes burn, and fire erupts around him—not spheres like Ezequiel’s, but living spirals—ribbons of flame twisting and splitting in the air, seeking flesh to burn.
Ezequiel attacks first—a furious leap, fangs aiming for Father’s throat. A spiral intercepts him, splitting in two to wrap him like serpents. My brother howls, fire licking his fur, but he shakes it off and bites the air, tearing up earth in his rage. He won’t be beaten easily.
“Lois!” I shout in my mind, the name burning my head like red-hot iron. I feel her—a distant sound—and the fire in my blood surges.
I’m a black blur when I charge. My claws gouge the ground, kicking up debris, and I leap straight at him. He turns—a spiral of flame comes for me, splitting into three fiery tongues. I twist mid-air, dodging two, but the third strikes my flank. Pain is lightning—but I ignore it. I land in front of him, fangs inches from his muzzle, and bite. Hot blood fills my mouth—his—and his roar shakes my ears.
“Lois!” Ezequiel shouts in his mind, and I hear it clear as if inside me. He leaps again, claws raking Father’s back—but a spiral wraps him, hurling him into a broken column. Marble collapses, and he crashes amid dust and ash, growling.
I don’t think. My wolf is pure instinct—I circle fast, lethal. The spirals chase me, splitting like whips, scorching the air. I leap onto a rock, push off, and land on his back—claws sinking into flesh. He bucks—a blast of fire hurls me skyward. I crash to the ground, skin burning—but I rise, roaring, and charge again.
It’s a dance of death. His spirals cut like knives—tearing earth, igniting what remains of the castle. One catches my hind leg—fire biting to the bone. I snarl, limp—but don’t stop. Ezequiel joins—his wolf ramming from the other side, fangs ripping an ear chunk. Father howls—a double spiral strikes, sending him rolling through rubble.
“For her!” I shout in my head, and the fire in me grows—stronger, brighter. I don’t know where it comes from, but I feel it: a spark not just mine. My flames erupt—golden, alive—wrapping my wolf like armor. I run, leap—my body slamming into his with world-shaking impact.
His spirals split again—but mine devour them. Fire pours from me like a river—burning everything: wood, stone, air. I ram him again—claws raking his chest—and he bites my shoulder, fangs sinking to bone. Pain blinds me—but I don’t yield. I twist, bring him down—my flames enveloping him, growing fiercer until the ground beneath melts into black pools.
Ezequiel is with me—his wolf limping but alive—biting his flank. Father howls—his fire fighting ours—but he can’t. My flames consume him—a whirlwind pushing him against a broken wall. Stone cracks—he falls, fur charred, breathing ragged. He doesn’t rise.
The sky is black—thick smoke blotting the sun as if morning died. The castle is a graveyard of ash and rubble—silence heavy as lead. My wolf dissolves—fire retreating to human skin—and I step from the flames, naked, covered in soot and blood. Flames still dance on my arms, chest—a mantle that doesn’t burn me. I walk slowly—heat licking my steps—and kneel beside him.
He’s alive—barely. His wolf trembles—burned, broken—but his eyes still burn, staring with hate and something more. Ezequiel rises beside me—his wolf dripping blood but steady. We are one.
“Our mate is Lois,” I say—voice hoarse, cutting. “Not just mine. Not just Ezequiel’s. Ours. And if you oppose it, I’ll have to kill you.”
He growls—a weak sound but full of challenge. He doesn’t answer. He doesn’t need to. I see it in his gaze: he won’t yield. But today—I won. We won. Fire crackles around me—smoke swirling like a black throne for two alphas who won’t surrender.