Chapter 200 CHAPTER 200

Chapter 200 CHAPTER 200
Mathias’s POV

Then the door opened.

A woman was pushed inside. She stumbled, nearly falling, barely catching herself on the doorframe. She was thin. Frail. Her skin was pale and papery, stretched tight over bones that stuck out at sharp angles. Her hair was a dull gray, matted and unwashed, hanging in limp strands around her face. Her clothes were ragged—just a thin, stained dress that hung loose on her wasted frame.

She was a shell. A shadow of whatever woman she used to be.

But her eyes.

Her eyes were still sharp. Still defiant. Still burning with something I couldn't quite name.

She looked at me.

"What do you want this time?" she said. Her voice was weak, raspy, but the words were clear. "Haven't you taken enough? Haven't you done enough?"

I felt the rage flare up again. "Watch your mouth, woman."

"Or what?" She laughed—a harsh, broken sound. "You'll kill me? You've been threatening that for years. I'm still here. I'm still breathing. Do it already."

"Don't test me," I snarled. "I'm not in the mood."

"Test you?" She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing. "I'm not testing you. I'm telling you the truth. You've been holding me here for years, using me to control my son. What has it gotten you? Nothing. You're still the same pathetic failure you've always been."

I stared at her.

She didn't know. She had no idea what had happened tonight. 

She was about to find out and what it would cost her.

"You want to know what your son did?" I said, my voice low and cold. "He betrayed me. Tonight. He helped Rafael. He helped the brother who has always been favored, always been loved, always been chosen. He chose Rafael over me. Over you."

Something flickered in her eyes. Surprise? Disbelief? I couldn't tell.

"Mathias would never—" she started.

"He did," I cut her off, stepping closer. "He betrayed me. He helped Rafael heal. He gave him the serum that turned the tide. And because of that, I lost."

I pointed at my face. At the bandaged wound where my eye used to be.

"Look at me," I snarled. "Look at what your son did to me. Look at what he cost me!"

Her eyes widened. For the first time, she saw the damage. The bandages. The blood. The hollow emptiness where my eye should have been.

She stared.

And then she started laughing.

It started as a small, broken sound. A wheeze that escaped her cracked lips. Then it grew. Louder. More desperate. More unhinged.

"He did it," she gasped between laughs. "He actually did it. He finally—he finally chose right."

"Shut up."

"He chose Rafael," she continued, her voice rising. "He chose the good one. The one who deserved his loyalty. The one who never used him, never threatened him, never held a knife to his throat. He chose right!"

I hit her.

The slap echoed through the room. She hit the ground hard, her head snapping to the side. She lay there for a moment, her body trembling.

Then she laughed again.

"That's all you've got," she said, her voice muffled against the floor. "That's all you've ever had. Violence. Threats. Fear. You don't know how to be anything else."

"Shut your mouth," I snarled.

"He was always better than you," she continued, pushing herself up to her hands and knees. "Mathias was always better. He just didn't know it. He was scared. He was manipulated. But he found his way back. He found his way home."

"Home?" I laughed. "He doesn't have a home. He's a hybrid. A mongrel. A creature caught between two worlds. He'll never belong anywhere."

"At least he has a heart," she spat. "At least he knows how to love. At least he chose friendship over fear. What do you have, Adrian? What do you have besides rage and bitterness and a missing eye?"

I grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back. "You're dead," I hissed. "You're dead, and you're going to die knowing that your son chose me over you."

"He didn't choose you," she said, her voice steady despite the pain. "He chose Rafael. He chose the brother you could never be. He chose the man who actually deserved his loyalty."

"You know nothing," I snarled. "Your son is a traitor. A liar. A worthless piece of—"

"He's my son," she cut me off. "And I am proud of him. Prouder than I've ever been. He finally stood up to you. He finally broke free. And I would die happy knowing that."

"Then die happy," I said, releasing her.

She collapsed to the floor, gasping. But she was still smiling. Still defiant. Still refusing to break.

"You can't beat Rafael," she said. "You never could. He's stronger than you. Smarter than you. Better than you. And now you've lost your eye, your power, and your leverage. What do you have left?"

I didn't answer.

"You're nothing," she continued. "You've always been nothing. And you'll die nothing. A footnote in Rafael's story. A failure who couldn't even kill a dying wolf."

My hands were shaking. The rage was boiling over, hot and uncontrollable.

"You want to know what I have left?" I said, my voice quiet and dangerous. "I have you. I have your pathetic, worthless life. And I'm going to end it."

I scanned the room. My eye landed on a broken pipe lying near the wall. It was jagged. Sharp. Perfect.

I crossed the room and grabbed it.

She was still laughing. Still mocking me.

"I hope Mathias watches you die," she said. "I hope he feels the same pain you're about to feel."

I raised the pipe.

"Goodbye," I said.

I brought it down.