Chapter 66 The Fall Of a man
Vuk Kael Lasković
I sat on the edge of the bed, the black silk sheets still carrying the ghost of her scent—jasmine and moonlight and the faint copper of her blood from when I’d bitten too deep last night. Maureen lay motionless beneath the golden coils of lunar light that cradled her like a living cradle, protecting the fragile heartbeat inside her.
Forever beautiful. Forever unreachable. Her skin glowed faintly under the torchlight, her white-gold hair spilling across the pillow like threads of starlight. I reached out, my hand trembling as I brushed a strand from her forehead, the touch so light it might as well have been a whisper.
Gods, how I ached for her to open those silver eyes and look at me—not with fear, not with the haunted shadows of her past, but with the fire she’d kindled in me. The room felt heavier without her voice, without her small hand slipping into mine to remind me I wasn’t just a monster.
“Little moon,” I began, my voice low and ragged, like gravel dragged over broken glass. “Today… today I shattered something I never thought I could. Eryx—my second, the one who’s stood by me through blood and betrayal, the wolf who pulled me from the edge more times than I can count—he came to me with that demon on his arm. Nyxara. Begging for my blessing on a bond that reeks of poison.”
I leaned closer, my forehead resting against the gentle swell of her belly, feeling the faint pulse of our child beneath the shimmering coils. It was the only warmth in this cold void she’d left behind.
“I laid it all out for him, Maureen. Every mad detail. How a respected beta, a warrior forged in the fires of loyalty, could throw it all away for an incubus who wouldn’t spare him a second thought if it didn’t serve her hunger. She’s fed on half the Dominion’s scum, twisted their desires into chains, and now she’s got her claws in him. He looked at me with those pleading eyes, like a pup begging for scraps, and said he loved her. Loved her. As if love isn’t just another word for ruin in our world.”
My chest tightened, a vise of grief and rage squeezing until it hurt to breathe. I could still hear the echo of my hand cracking across his face—the sharp slap that reverberated through the throne room like thunder. The betrayal in his gaze… it cut deeper than any blade.
“I growled at him, little moon. I roared until the walls shook. And then I sighed, because what else could I do? The audacity of that incubus—dark-skinned, with those violet eyes that promise ecstasy and deliver emptiness—strutting in like she belonged. Like she hadn’t just sunk her teeth into the heart of my court.”
I paused, my hand splaying protectively over her stomach, the coils humming softly under my palm as if sensing my turmoil.
“I’m going to find his fated mate,” I vowed, the words tasting like bitter resolve. “The real one. The one the gods intended, not this twisted mockery. He’ll have to tear his imprint from her skin, sever the bond before it destroys him. Sending her away with that mark still pulsing on her throat… it would be a mistake. A fatal one. The pain would eat him alive from the inside, drive him mad with longing he can’t escape.”
A ragged breath escaped me. I pressed my lips to her belly, lingering there, feeling the faint kick of life within—like a promise I wasn’t sure I deserved.
“I sent him to jail,” I confessed, voice cracking. “Chained him in the cells below, where the shadows whisper regrets. But I couldn’t leave him to rot—not completely. I called the healers for him. He needs time in the infirmary, time to purge whatever venom she’s pumped into his veins. I wonder how much she fed on him… how much of his soul she drained while he begged for more. Gods, Maureen, it breaks me to think of it. He was like a brother. And now… now I’ve locked him away like a traitor.”
Tears burned behind my eyes—hot, unwelcome. I hadn’t cried in centuries, not since the day I’d clawed my way out of hellfire. But here, in the quiet with her, the dam cracked.
I shifted, laying beside her carefully, my massive frame curling around her fragile one. My hand rested on her belly, the coils parting just enough to let me feel her warmth. Gold, stirred at our feet, her tail flicking once before she nestled closer, as if guarding us both from the ache in my chest.
“Please wake up,” I whispered, my voice fracturing like ice under pressure. “I miss you so badly, my love. I miss your laugh—the way it cuts through the darkness like moonlight. I miss your touch, the way it tames the beast in me. Without you, I’m just… raging at shadows. Come back to me. Please. I can’t do this alone.”
I hugged her tightly then, burying my face in her hair, inhaling the faint scent of her that still lingered. The room blurred with unshed tears, and for a long moment, I let the pain swallow me whole.
The next day – Vuk’s private study
The knock came like a blade against stone, sharp and unwelcome.
“Alpha,” the young captain’s voice filtered through the heavy door, hesitant. “Lady Nyxara requests an audience.”
I stared at the parchments scattered across my obsidian desk—decrees half-written, maps of the Dominion blurred by my unfocused gaze. The last person I wanted to see was her. The incubus who’d poisoned my court, who’d turned my brother against me. But ignoring her wouldn’t make the rot disappear.
I let the silence stretch, my claws digging into the armrest until wood splintered. Finally, I ground out, “Let her in.”
The door creaked open.
She stepped inside alone, her dark skin glowing faintly under the torchlight, like polished ebony kissed by fire. Her violet eyes—sharp, haunting—met mine for a fleeting second before dropping. No cloak of seduction today; just simple black leathers that hugged her curves, hair loose and wild around her shoulders. She swallowed hard, the sound thick in the heavy air, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as if to steady herself.
“Sit,” I ordered, my voice a low rumble that echoed off the walls.
She obeyed, perching on the edge of the chair like it was made of thorns. Her posture was rigid, but I could see the tremor in her fingers, the way her breath came in shallow bursts. The bite on her throat—Eryx’s mark—stood out vivid against her skin, a crimson crescent that mocked me.
I leaned back, arms crossed over my chest, letting the silence press down on her like a weight. She fidgeted once, then stilled, her violet eyes fixed on the floor.
“Have you come to your senses?” I asked finally, each word laced with the cold edge of my fury.
She lifted her chin slowly, her gaze meeting mine. There was no defiance there—not yet—just raw, unfiltered pain.
“Yes,” she said, her voice steady but soft, like a blade wrapped in velvet. “I have. I… I had him under my influence from the start. I wanted to use him. His rank, his power, his unwavering loyalty to you. He was a tool to me at first. Nothing more. He means… he meant nothing beyond that.”
The confession hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. I studied her—the way her dark skin flushed faintly with shame, the way her violet eyes shimmered with something that looked suspiciously like regret.
“So you admit it,” I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “You’re exactly what I accused you of being. A leech. A manipulator. A survivor who’s clawed her way through life by feeding on the desires of men who thought they could trust you. You twisted him, Nyxara. You took a wolf who’d die for his pack and turned him into your puppet.”
She flinched, her hands clenching in her lap until her knuckles paled against her skin.
“Yes,” she whispered, the word breaking slightly. “I’ve always been that. The world doesn’t hand power to someone like me—dark-skinned, demon-born, marked as prey from the cradle. I learned early: take or be taken. Feed or starve. I’ve lied, I’ve seduced, I’ve drained souls dry just to survive another night. And with Eryx… it started that way. A mark. A meal. But then…”
Her voice trailed off, and she looked away, tears glistening on her lashes. The sight twisted something in my chest—anger, yes, but also a flicker of unwanted pity.
“But then?” I pressed, leaning forward, my elbows slamming onto the desk with a thud that made her jump. “Finish it. Tell me how you justify wrapping him in your web.”
She met my eyes again, and this time, the pain in her violet gaze was a storm.
“I don’t justify it,” she said, her voice cracking open like a wound. “There’s no excuse. I saw his strength, his loyalty, and I wanted to break it. To own it. But somewhere between the games and the hunger… he saw me. Not the incubus. Not the survivor scraping by on lust and lies. He saw the woman underneath—the one who’s been starving for something real her whole life. Between his pleas and his touches, between the way he begged me not to leave… it stopped being a game.”
Tears spilled over now, tracking down her dark cheeks in silent rivers. She didn’t wipe them away.
“I don’t deserve him. I know that. I’ve hurt too many. Fed on too many. But gods, Alpha, the bond… it’s the first time I’ve felt full without taking. Without stealing.”
I rose slowly, the chair scraping back like thunder in the quiet room. I circled the desk, stopping just in front of her, towering over her seated form. She had to crane her neck to look up at me, her breath hitching.
“Do you think it’s justifiable?” I asked, my voice a low growl that vibrated through us both. “If I handed my most trusted blade—my brother—to someone as rotten as you? I wouldn’t call Eryx righteous. He’s killed under my orders, spilled blood without remorse. But I will not deliver him into the hands of a creature who buys truth with her body and sells lies with her smile. Someone who twists devotion into a weapon, who doesn’t know loyalty because she’s never had to earn it.”
Her lips trembled, more tears falling.
“No,” she choked out, the word raw and honest. “It’s not justifiable. None of it is. I’m poison. I always have been. And if you think I don’t hate myself for what I’ve done to him… you’re wrong. Every night, I see his face—the way he looked at me like I was worth saving—and it breaks me. But please… don’t make me sever this. Don’t take the one real thing I’ve ever had.”
I bared my fangs, the rage boiling over.
“You will reject his imprint,” I snarled. “Sever the bond. Let him go. Walk away tonight and never look back. If the mark stays on your throat, it will slowly kill him. You know that. The pain will tear him apart—longing he can’t escape, hunger he can’t feed. Is that what you want for him? To suffer because you’re too selfish to let go?”
She stood then—slowly, shaking—placing one trembling hand over the bite on her throat, her dark skin glistening with sweat and tears.
“I can’t,” she whispered, her voice fracturing. “Rejecting the imprint doesn’t mean what’s between us isn’t real.”
I laughed—a low, bitter sound that echoed like a death knell.
“You think love can survive in the ruins of manipulation? You think desire equals devotion? You fed on him, Nyxara. You used him like every other fool before him. How can anything real grow from that filth?”
Her eyes—violet storms—locked on mine, fierce and shattered.
“Because he chose me anyway,” she said, her voice rising with desperate conviction. “Between my lies and his loyalty, between my hunger and his heart… he chose. And I chose back. For the first time, I didn’t take. I gave. I gave him everything—my truths, my fears, my broken pieces. And if you rip this bond out, you’re not saving him. You’re condemning us both to a half-life. Empty. Starving. Please, Alpha… have mercy. Not for me. For him.”
The plea hung there, raw and heart-wrenching, her sobs filling the room now—deep, guttural sounds that clawed at something deep inside me. I turned away, unable to watch her crumble, my own chest aching with the weight of it all.
“Get out,” I said finally, voice flat, though it cost me to say it.
Then the fury broke free again.
“If you love him so much—” I roared, the words ripping out of me like claws, “—then prove it! Reject the damn fucking imprint!”
The hellfire flared brighter with the shout, licking higher along my collarbones, casting violent shadows across the walls. The obsidian desk behind me hissed where stray sparks landed.
Nyxara staggered back a step, her back hitting the door, one hand flying to her mouth as if to trap a scream. Her violet eyes locked on the flames wreathing my face—fear, yes, but also something deeper, something that looked like recognition. Like she’d seen this kind of destruction before, in mirrors, in men she’d broken.
“I—” Her voice was barely a thread, trembling so violently the word fractured. “I can’t… Vuk, please—”
“Don’t you dare beg me,” I snarled, taking one step forward. The floorboards smoked faintly under my boots. “You don’t get to beg after what you’ve done. You don’t get to stand there crying pretty tears and pretend this is love. Love doesn’t feed. Love doesn’t use. Love doesn’t leave a man chained in my cells because it was too selfish to walk away when the game got real.”