Chapter 486: The Weight Of An Unwanted God.

Chapter 486: The Weight Of An Unwanted God.


(Third Person's POV)

The chamber was not shaped by nature. That was the first thing Brian noticed as he and Alec hit the stone floor hard enough to knock the air from their lungs. The cavern’s walls curved inward like ribs, black rock veined with faint red light that pulsed in slow, deliberate beats. It felt alive—breathing around them.

Alec groaned, pushing himself up to one knee. “So this is where he’s been hiding.”

Brian rolled onto his side, spitting dust from his mouth. “You always say things like that when you’re terrified.”

Alec shot him a look, but there was no real bite behind it. His eyes were already scanning the chamber, fingers flexing, senses stretching outward.

They felt him before they saw him. The pressure was immense—like a hand around the throat of the world. Brian’s ears rang as if the air itself were vibrating under Marcus’s presence. His wolf stirred inside him, restless and uneasy, not out of fear but recognition. Predator recognizing something beyond predator.

Then footsteps echoed, slow and jhurried.

Marcus stepped from the shadows, his boots crunching against gravel that wasn’t there seconds ago. His hair was pulled back, his expression calm, almost bored. But his eyes—those were wrong. They glowed faintly, pupils dilated, iris swallowed by a darkness that didn’t belong to any living creature.

“Well,” Marcus said, voice smooth, familiar, and utterly alien all at once. “If it isn’t the loyal guard dogs.”

Brian pushed himself to his feet, jaw tight. “Nice to see you too.”

Alec stepped forward, placing himself half a step in front of Brian. “You shouldn’t be here, Marcus. You know that.”

Marcus tilted his head, a mockery of curiosity. “You’re talking to me like I’m still your Alpha.”

“You’re still Marcus,” Brian said, though the words sounded more like a plea than a statement.

A slow smile curved Marcus’s lips. “No. I’m what Marcus became when he stopped pretending weakness was virtue.”

The air shifted. Brian felt the spirit move, like something coiling tighter around Marcus’s soul. The presence behind his eyes deepened, voice dropping into something layered—two tones speaking at once.

“I am what love failed to destroy.”

Alec swore under his breath. “Yeah. That’s definitely not creepy.”

Marcus laughed, a low sound that echoed unnaturally through the cavern. “You two always coped with humor. I remember that.”

“You remember a lot of things that aren’t yours,” Brian snapped.

Marcus walked closer, unbothered by the tension coiling around them. “They are mine now. His memories are my memories. His regrets are my fuel.”

Alec clenched his fists. “Then you know why we’re here.”

“To beg?” Marcus suggested lightly. “To plead for mercy?”

Brian’s eyes narrowed. “To stop you.”

Marcus stopped a few meters away, his gaze flicking between them. “Stop me,” he repeated, tasting the words. “Do you understand how amusing that sounds?”

He lifted one hand and the air exploded.

Brian was thrown backward like a rag doll, slamming into the wall with bone-jarring force. The rock cracked beneath the impact. Alec barely managed to brace himself, claws digging into the ground as he skidded back.

“Brian!” Alec shouted.

“I’m fine,” Brian grunted, though stars burst behind his eyes.

Marcus didn’t even look at him again. His focus remained on Alec, who was still standing.

“You always were the stubborn one,” Marcus said. “Even when you knew you couldn’t win.”

Alec straightened, shaking dust from his clothes. “Someone’s got to be stubborn. Otherwise you’d be ruling the world by now.”

Marcus’s lips twitched. “Ambition is not evil. Weakness is.”

He moved again, faster this time.

Alec barely had time to react before Marcus was in front of him, hand gripping his throat. The strength behind the grip was terrifying, crushing, inhuman. Alec’s feet lifted off the ground as Marcus slammed him against a pillar.

“You think loyalty makes you strong?” Marcus murmured, leaning close. “You think dying for others gives your life meaning?”

Alec’s claws extended, slashing across Marcus’s arm. The wound healed instantly, flesh knitting as if it had never been touched.

“That’s what makes you weak,” Marcus continued, unfazed. “You cling to bonds. I sever them.”

Brian charged. He shifted mid-air, his wolf bursting forth, muscles expanding, teeth bared. He collided with Marcus, knocking him away from Alec. They tumbled across the cavern floor, claws and fists striking, stone shattering beneath their blows.

Brian shifted back, panting, blood trickling from a cut above his brow. “You talk too much.”

Marcus rose smoothly, brushing dust from his clothes. “And you still hit like a soldier who believes in causes.”

Brian’s lips curled. “Someone has to.”

Marcus’s eyes darkened. “Belief is a chain.”

The ground beneath Brian’s feet cracked, then split open. Shadowy tendrils surged upward, wrapping around his legs, yanking him down. He struggled, slicing through them, but more replaced the severed ones. Alec rushed to him, claws tearing through the darkness. “Move!”

Brian rolled free just as the tendrils collapsed inward, the fissure sealing like it had never existed. They stood back-to-back now, breathing hard, facing Marcus. He watched them like a cat watching two mice.

“You coordinate well,” he admitted. “But coordination is useless when the opponent exists beyond your scale.”

Alec wiped blood from his mouth. “You always did like speeches.”

Marcus’s gaze flickered, irritation flashing for a fraction of a second before the spirit smothered it. “Marcus did,” it corrected. “I find them efficient.”

Brian glanced at Alec briefly. “We’re buying time, remember?”

Alec nodded slightly. “Yeah. I remember. We need to find Theresa and Taylor. Only the powder can save Marcus now.”