Chapter 145
Chapter 145
Fiona's POV
"I, Alexander von Volkov, reject Fiona Sterling as my fated mate."
In that instant, the world was drained of all sound.
I stared at him, his pale, impassive face reflected in my dilated pupils.
I felt something in my chest shatter completely in that moment.
The sensation of being suddenly hurled into a bottomless abyss left me forgetting even to breathe.
He had just spoken those words capable of crushing my soul—yet why were his eyes brimming with tears?
"Ahhh—!"
Rita's anguished scream tore through my mental landscape, shrill and devastating.
I watched helplessly as she writhed in agony within the depths of my soul, her razor-sharp claws frantically tearing at her own chest, blood streaming, as though she meant to rip out her own heart.
Then the destructive backlash slammed into my physical body with brutal force.
Crack.
I heard my ribs fracture, as if someone had taken an iron hammer to my ribcage. My organs felt as though they'd been thrown into molten lava, searing pain flooding through every nerve.
My legs buckled beneath me, and I nearly collapsed.
Just as I lost my balance, a tearing agony erupted from behind.
A cold halberd hooked into my shoulder from the rear, its sharp blade embedding deep into my flesh.
I heard the sound of blood gushing forth, warm liquid spraying across the cold marble floor of the hall like vivid red roses blooming in grotesque beauty.
A strangled cry escaped my lips as the immense force dragged me backward.
Just as the halberd was about to pierce clean through my body, a white figure lunged in front of me.
Alexander.
He seized the halberd's shaft, his vertical pupils roiling with murderous intent.
With a violent sweep of his arm, he hurled the guard wielding the weapon across the hall.
"Enough!" His voice thundered through the chamber with unquestionable authority. "This is the modern age! There are no such barbaric rules of tribal slaughter!"
The hall plunged into deathly silence once more.
"Your Majesty…" an elder's voice ventured cautiously, "do you intend to protect this half-blood abomination?"
Another voice cut in to silence the dissent. "No—His Majesty has already severed the fated bond with this woman. He has his own considerations."
Someone else even proposed capturing me and using my blood to heal the gravely wounded soldiers.
I stood there, clutching my blood-soaked shoulder, enduring the dual devastation of body and soul.
From the depths of that despair, Rita's voice came weakly in my mind—
"Fiona… do you still believe?"
I watched my blood drip onto the floor, one drop after another, each glowing with an almost hypnotic golden luminescence. That light stung my eyes and pierced through the last shred of my illusions.
Gritting my teeth against the excruciating pain, I forced myself upright, inch by agonizing inch.
In that moment, I seemed to see the night hundreds of years ago when the Golden Wolf Clan was driven to the brink of extinction.
Flames that seemed ready to consume the entire hall filled my vision, and I heard the desperate wails of my ancestors.
Those cold halberds had pierced mercilessly through the chests of the Golden Wolves—and the first hands to raise those weapons belonged to the Arctic Wolf Clan, those who had pledged eternal alliance through generations of marriage, those who had sworn to stand together through all trials.
They had made vows. They had exchanged blood and souls at sacred altars. So why did the blades ultimately turn toward the hearts of their bedmates?
What had the Golden Wolf Clan done wrong? What had my mother done to deserve such betrayal?
Uncle Arthur's gentle face suddenly surfaced in my mind.
He had been nothing more than an ordinary human, powerless and without wolf spirit or magic, yet with that fragile mortal body he had perfected the art of protection.
He had shielded me from every blade and shadow, paving a path to survival with his very life.
Precisely because I had felt such pure and selfless protection, I understood with tragic clarity that everyone standing in this magnificent hall was nothing more than a beast in human skin. In their eyes, I was merely prey to be hunted, a clown to be slaughtered.
"Rita, we're leaving!"
I saw Rita cough up blood.
Her form was rapidly dimming, the once-brilliant golden light flickering like a candle in the wind.
I realized with despair that my strength was no longer sufficient to face any of this.
And then an even more bone-chilling thought slithered into my consciousness like a venomous serpent—
The ultimate weapon that had enabled the complete annihilation of the Golden Wolf Clan centuries ago wasn't some powerful magic or invincible army.
It was the final betrayal of their mates.
It was the backlash of the fated bond at the critical moment, the fatal blow delivered from within.
I released a silent roar of despair in my heart, merging every remnant of my will with my wolf spirit completely. Golden light exploded around me in violent surges as I prepared to take as many with me as I could—
Even if I was destined to die here today.
I would rather let Alexander pierce my heart with his own hands than die like my ancestors, slaughtered like a joke by these hypocrites.
Just as I was about to be consumed entirely by that despair, an exceptionally gentle yet irresistible force suddenly enveloped me from behind.
"Child, come with me."
A steady, familiar voice spoke near my ear.
I turned my head with difficulty and saw Professor Claremont's face.
His eyes held a profound compassion, and a soft power wrapped around me.
In the next second, the flames, the hall, the sounds of slaughter—all dissolved into nothingness amid an intense spatial distortion.
In the final moment before consciousness surrendered to darkness, I took one last look at the man standing at the center of power.
On his shoulder, the phantom of that snow-white Arctic wolf was howling in agony.
Then everything faded to black.