Chapter 161

Chapter 161
Lyra's POV

Kaelum blocked my path, that smirk on his lips looking particularly jarring under the dim yellow lights.

My footsteps faltered as I finally understood why his gaze had carried that subtle, indefinable strangeness from the very beginning. He'd been suspicious all along. His decision not to call Sable wasn't simply about his good mood—he'd been waiting for me to slip up on my own.

I bit my lip and quickly assessed his current condition. His stance remained casual, the hand holding his wine glass perfectly steady, but the other hand hanging at his side was trembling slightly. The tremor was minimal, nearly imperceptible, but I caught it.

The lunar eclipse had passed less than a day ago. His strength hadn't fully recovered. The man before me wasn't that invincible Patriarch, but merely a weakened beast still putting on a performance.

A somewhat risky decision quickly formed in my mind. Since I couldn't leave, I might as well settle things here. Kill Kaelum, avenge Orion, then use the chaos to get Sera out.

With that thought, I didn't hesitate any longer. Under his mocking gaze, I struck swiftly. The surging rage seemed to awaken some unfamiliar power within me, making me more than twice as fast as usual. He'd barely raised his hand to block before I'd already knocked him to the ground.

His back slammed hard against the floor, the impact knocking his mask askew and exposing a section of twisted scar tissue beneath. "You—" He gasped, the shock in his eyes undisguised. He hadn't expected me to be this fast.

I didn't give him a chance to finish. I pulled out the silver blade I'd prepared earlier. One stab to his heart, and I could end his life. Just one more strike...

Then Kaelum suddenly clapped his hands. Those two claps rang out with particular clarity in the now-quiet room. The next second, several dark figures materialized simultaneously from various corners of the room. They'd been lurking in the shadows all along, never revealing themselves. Vampires.

At the same time, blood magic restraints pressed down from all directions like an invisible net, pinning me to the ground. My knees hit the floor, my wrists twisted behind me by an unseen force. Kaelum rose from the ground, dusting off his clothes, then reached out to peel away the remnants of my disguise piece by piece. His movements were unhurried, as if unwrapping a gift that belonged to him.

Only when all my disguises had been stripped away and my true face completely exposed did he stop. "Lyra," his voice carried undisguised satisfaction, "I knew it was you. Impressive skills, but unfortunately, you forgot whose territory this is."

With that, he stepped back, raised his hand, and commanded the vampires who'd emerged from the shadows, "Take her."

My heart sank. Kaelum wasn't Varyn—he was just a werewolf collaborating with vampires. Yet these vampires obeyed him unconditionally. I frowned and tried to break free, but the blood magic restraints on my wrists tightened further, nearly crushing my bones.

Just then, the room's door was kicked open. The heavy oak door flew completely off its frame, crashing into the opposite wall with a deafening boom. Several muffled groans sounded behind me. The vampires who'd been applying pressure seemed to be struck simultaneously by something, and the blood magic restraints on me dissolved in an instant.

I staggered, bracing myself against the floor, and turned toward the doorway. A figure stood there, backlit by the harsh corridor lights, his shoulders and back outlined into a familiar silhouette. He was still gripping a vampire by the collar.

The next second, he hurled that vampire against the wall. Wooden stakes flew from his other hand, precisely piercing the chests of two vampires still standing in the corner. The white wood drove through their hearts—the impaled vampires didn't even have time to scream before collapsing.

The figure stepped over the debris on the floor and walked toward Kaelum with measured, unhurried strides, each step casting long shadows in the dim light. He grabbed Kaelum by the collar, lifted him bodily, then slammed him hard onto the ground. His knee pressed into Kaelum's chest as his fingers gripped the edge of that mask and tore it off along with the skin beneath.

Kaelum's face was exposed without obstruction for the first time before everyone. The entire room fell silent in that moment, leaving only heavy breathing. All the Blood Moon Cult werewolves still standing froze in place, as if witnessing something that shouldn't exist in this world.

Before they could recover from their shock, they were tackled from behind by those who'd burst in afterward. One after another, like the chain reaction of falling dominoes.

I stood several steps away, my entire body as if nailed to the floor. Though the blood magic restraints were gone, I felt unable to move a single step. That was Orion. His face, his shoulders, the precision of his movements in combat—I recognized him, recognized every arc this body made in battle.

But not long ago, I'd touched his pulseless neck, kissed his cold forehead, felt the silence from that end of the mate bond. My thoughts were in complete chaos, wild joy mixed with confusion, leaving me momentarily paralyzed.

Not far away, Kaelum lay pinned to the ground, eyes wide. His first reaction wasn't to struggle, but to reach out toward the edge of Orion's jaw. Even with my mind blank, I understood the meaning of that gesture. He was trying to find the seam of a mask, attempting to prove the person before him was merely a substitute wearing Orion's face.

Orion didn't give him that chance. He caught Kaelum's fingers and snapped them backward cleanly. The crack was crisp, and Kaelum let out a groan trapped in his throat. "Impossible... you're supposed to be dead!"

"Surprised to see me alive?" Orion smiled slightly, but there was no warmth in that expression whatsoever.

Kaelum shook his head frantically as if he hadn't heard, his voice finally showing a crack, "Impossible. Even if Iris betrayed me, Samuel wouldn't deceive me—we have a soul contract. Unless he wants to die!"

Orion's hand closed around his throat, cutting off the rest of his words in his windpipe. "Samuel? I've already dealt with him. Did you really think his communications with you went completely unnoticed? That phone call was under my surveillance from start to finish."

He leaned down, his voice dropping low as if meant only for Kaelum, "Kaelum, every scheme you carefully planned has failed completely."

Kaelum's eyes stopped moving, as if finally accepting this reality. His lips worked, the sound seeming to squeeze through his teeth, his face showing obvious jealousy and resentment, "Why... why do you get to have everything and still survive, while I can't even get scraps... You took everything from me. Someone like you doesn't deserve to live in this world."

Orion's grip on his neck tightened several degrees. "I don't deserve it? Kaelum, stop making excuses for the wrongs you've committed. Because of one exile, you collaborated with vampires and personally killed so many werewolves. It's time to settle these accounts properly."

His fingers tightened around Kaelum's Adam's apple, the movement clean and decisive, without a trace of hesitation. The struggle in Kaelum's eyes lasted a few seconds, then extinguished like a snuffed candle.

Orion released his grip, straightened up, picked up the torn mask from the ground, and placed it over Kaelum's face. After finishing, he wiped the blood from his hands, turned, and walked toward me.

He stopped before me, his gaze sweeping from my face to my shoulders to my wrists. "Are you hurt?" His voice was exactly as before—steady and restrained.

My throat had completely closed up. I opened my mouth but couldn't produce a single word. I looked at him, confirming over and over that this wasn't an illusion.

I don't know how much time passed before I finally found my voice. "Orion... what the hell is going on?"