Chapter 155

Chapter 155
Ivar's POV

I stood at the outer edge of the crowd, watching the footage loop endlessly on the screen.

Sylvia—her face, the way she walked, the slight tilt of her head as she pulled that small vial from her pocket.

Every detail was so clear it required no explanation.

When the Alpha had first told me the results of his investigation, I had clung to the belief that it was all someone else's fabrication, that my insistence could somehow restore Sylvia's innocence. But now—the person in the footage was her.

No matter how hard I tried, this fact was irrefutable.

The moment I saw the full sequence of events, my knees gave out completely, and I collapsed onto the cold stone floor. The chill from the pavement seeped into my bones, but I felt nothing—my mind was too numb to register the physical discomfort.

While I sat there in a daze, one of the elders approached me.

"Ivar, hand over Sylvia. A traitor like her must face the family's punishment. You know the rules of the Blackwood family better than anyone."

Silver implements embedded into the spine...

I remained kneeling rigidly on the ground, closing my eyes as I imagined that blade pressing against the back of Sylvia's neck.

Suddenly, I remembered her eyes—those eyes that had looked at me under the bar's dim lighting, the pained expression she wore when she learned I had taken the family punishment in her place.

My hands clenched and unclenched against my knees.

I knew how absurd, how selfish, what I was about to say would sound.

The Alpha still lay there, and yet I was preparing to forgive, on his behalf, the person who had killed him.

But I had no choice.

I couldn't let Sylvia bear these consequences, even though she had betrayed me.

"This is all my fault," I began, my voice barely above a whisper, my gaze fixed on the ground, unable to meet anyone's eyes. "If I hadn't misjudged her character, the Alpha wouldn't have been harmed. I beg you to let me accept Sylvia's punishment in her place."

"Afterward, I will banish her from the North, ensure she can never set foot in this territory again—as long as you spare her."

The internal struggle made my entire body tremble.

I had failed the Alpha; his death was connected to the person I had brought into our home. But I also couldn't stand by and watch Sylvia have her wolf spirit stripped away, turned into a living shell. These two forces tore at me simultaneously, and the only choice I could make was to take on more suffering myself, attempting to offset some of the wrongs I had committed.

Even without looking up, I could feel the profound disappointment in the elder's gaze.

"Ivar," he said, "is this the choice you make as a member of the Blackwood family?"

I didn't answer.

I remained kneeling, my knuckles whitening as my grip tightened.

"You'd better think this through carefully," the elder's voice dropped even lower. "The Blackwood family never shows mercy to traitors. You will never be able to possess your own wolf again, spending the rest of your life no different from an ordinary human."

"This is what I deserve to bear."

The elder sighed and delivered his verdict.

"You have one day. Deal with Sylvia, then return to accept your punishment."

I nodded, rising unsteadily from the ground and walking out of the manor with faltering steps.

As I left, my mind was a complete fog, each step feeling as though I were treading on cotton. I headed toward where I'd parked my car, my hand not yet touching the door handle when an arm suddenly locked around my neck from behind. I struggled desperately, but the injuries from my last punishment combined with tonight's emotional devastation had completely drained me. I was pulled backward by my assailant.

The next second, a needle pierced my wrist, and icy liquid was pushed into my veins.

I caught only a glimpse of a pair of somewhat familiar eyes before my consciousness plummeted into bottomless darkness.

——

Sylvia's POV

I stared at the disconnected call, my fingers still gripping the edge of my phone, knuckles unconsciously tightening.

Something about the way Otto had just spoken wasn't right.

It wasn't the clingy, rambling praise and complaints that usually came when he was drunk—his words had been too clear, as if he hadn't touched a drop of alcohol from start to finish.

If what he said was true, if someone really had made a move against Orion, then who could it be? Who could strike at Orion and escape unscathed?

Feeling suddenly restless and distracted, I tossed the pharmaceutical tome onto the table, grabbed a set of car keys from the drawer, and drove toward the Blackwood manor.

I needed to see for myself.

I needed to confirm whether Otto was lying to me.

The car passed through the corridor of fir trees and stopped at the manor's perimeter. Through the iron gates, I could see the main hall brilliantly lit, figures crowding together, the air thick with an oppressive, heavy silence.

In that instant, I finally confirmed that Otto hadn't been lying.

I stood somewhat dazed beside the car, my mind racing through all the possible suspects who could have acted. I had some impression of most of Kaelum's subordinates, but those capable of silently infiltrating the Blackwood manor and poisoning Orion on his own territory could be counted on one hand.

Apart from myself, I couldn't think of a second person.

While I was lost in thought, two elders emerged from the manor's main entrance, walking a few steps in my direction.

Acting on some inexplicable instinct, I darted behind a thick fir tree.

"Ivar has disappointed me so deeply," one elder's voice drifted over, heavy with grief and anger. "Sylvia killed the Alpha, and yet he still wants to protect her, even willing to accept punishment in her place. Stripping away the wolf spirit—does he understand what that means? His entire life will be ruined."

My body went rigid.

Accept punishment in my place?

Strip away the wolf spirit?

I was about to step out and demand answers face to face when my phone suddenly vibrated.

A message popped up on the screen—a photo from Otto.

In the photo, Ivar lay on a tattered mattress with his eyes closed, his face deathly pale, brows furrowed as if even in unconsciousness he was enduring some inescapable agony.

My fingers trembled violently, and I momentarily forgot about the two elders, typing rapidly: "Otto? Have you lost your mind? Why did you kidnap Ivar?"

The reply came almost instantly.

"He's too weak, completely unworthy of you. Sylvia, returning to my side is the only correct choice for you."

My stomach felt as though someone had kicked it hard, and my expression became momentarily dazed.

Seeing Ivar's weakened state in the photo left me in complete disarray, too distracted by his strange words to think clearly. I hastily typed out another line: "What did you do to him?"

This time the response was slower.

Just as I was growing anxious enough to call Otto directly, a message finally arrived.

But the moment I read it clearly, I felt all the warmth drain from my body.

"Nothing particularly special. I just injected Ivar with a new drug developed by Varyn's people."