Chapter 155

Chapter 155
Fiona's POV

I smiled, but my grip on his arm only tightened.

He winced and hissed through his teeth. "I don't have a name! I was thrown into a dumpster the moment I was born!"

My heart clenched violently.

"Raymond," I blurted out. "Your name is Raymond. From now on, you can stay with me."

I needed an assistant, a follower. But during these two months in the Underground, I had never found anyone suitable. Perhaps all relationships require a certain fate to form. Like right now—looking at this filthy boy with eyes as fierce as a wolf cub's, I suddenly knew he was the one.

That corner of my mind that always ached dully had, for the first time in a long while, fallen quiet.

I was surprised to realize I hadn't thought about Alexander in ages.

That bond that once clung to me like a curse, that soul-deep connection that should have persisted across any distance—the memory of its brutal severing still made me flinch. But as time and distance stretched between us, everything seemed to be fading, eventually settling into a dull, muted undertone.

"You want me as your follower?"

The boy stared at me in shock, as if I'd told him the world's greatest joke. "I'm jackal mixed-blood—you know jackals are already at the bottom of werewolf society, and I'm not even pureblooded! I can't do anything except fight and run!"

"Bloodlines mean jack shit," I said, releasing his arm and patting his shoulder. "Especially in this hellhole. Only those who know why they're still alive have the right to talk about the future. Besides, my best friend is a jackal girl."

I thought of Kelly—her round glasses, the adorable freckles scattered across her face. I wondered how she was doing now. Had she married Cyril? Had she opened that café she'd always dreamed of? It had been so long since I'd seen her. If I'd known things would turn out this way, I should have said a proper goodbye.

After settling the dispute, I brought Raymond back to Yulia's bakery. Professor Claremont was already waiting for me there.

I told him I needed to leave the city briefly—to return to Sterling Manor. I needed help liquidating my assets. That money was the key to determining the Underground's future.

---

The moment I emerged from the Underground, the long-absent sunlight stabbed at my eyes.

Everything above ground felt unreal.

Caleb was waiting at the agreed-upon alley entrance. He wore an unremarkable dark gray trench coat, his cap pulled low, but the instant I approached, he caught my scent—even through my elaborate disguise.

I'd expected the surface to be plastered with wanted posters bearing my face. But half a year had passed. People were too busy scrambling to survive, politicians too busy maneuvering for profit. Who had time to remember me?

"Fiona!"

Caleb practically lunged toward me. Before I could react, he pulled me into a crushing embrace. His arms locked around me so tightly I could barely breathe, and I felt his body trembling slightly—the aftershock of long-suppressed fear and longing.

"Thank God, Fiona. I searched every possible place… when you sent that message, I almost thought I was dreaming!"

I gently patted his back and said softly, "I'm fine, Caleb. I'm sorry our wedding ended the way it did. You didn't get a divorce—you got something closer to widowhood."

"Don't say such horrible things, Fiona. This isn't the place to talk. Get in the car first."

The sound of tires crunching over gravel was monotonous and heavy, like the countdown to a long farewell.

Caleb didn't take me to any safe house or bustling district. When the black SUV finally stopped in front of a rust-covered iron gate, I realized where he'd brought me.

The Sterling family cemetery.

It sat halfway up a mountain, perpetually shrouded in mist. The paint on the gate had peeled away, exposing dark red rust beneath like dried wounds.

I pushed open the car door and stepped onto stone stairs buried in fallen leaves that crackled underfoot. A crushing wave of guilt surged through me.

Half a year had passed since that catastrophic tragedy. For six months, I'd hidden in the Underground like a rat—surviving, plotting revenge, searching for truth—but I'd forgotten to visit them.

Uncle Arthur. Victoria.

"Lucian was sentenced to life imprisonment in Blackwater Prison, up in the far north where even souls freeze," Caleb said from behind me, his voice low as he broke the silence. "But he was just the blade. The hand that wielded it hasn't been found yet."

I stopped and turned to look at him. "You mean whoever's behind Lab Zero? Wasn't it the Purple Wolf family?"

"No. There's someone called the Madonna—a marshal. Even Lucian doesn't know who he really is. More precisely, he's orchestrated everything from the shadows without ever showing his face publicly."

Caleb frowned, as if chewing on the absurdity of the codename. "The only thing we know for certain is that he's a master manipulator. Whether it was Duke Sterling's desire to protect you and your mother, or the Purple Wolves' lack of strong heirs forcing them to rely on the Arctic Wolf Clan—he knew exactly which vulnerabilities to exploit."

I turned back toward the field of gray-white tombstones in the distance, my heart turning cold.

The Madonna? Such a sacred-sounding title for someone who did the filthiest work.

"Also…" Caleb paused, his tone growing complicated. "Alexander issued the new Blood Coexistence Act, officially banning the hunting and persecution of golden wolf bloodlines. Halson… abdicated in disgrace."

"Abdicated?" I was startled. "Then who's the Alpha of the Lefett family now? Did Alexander take over the entire clan?"

"No." Caleb shook his head. "It's Fendia."

I spun around, staring at him in shock. "Fendia? I thought she was going to be Alexander's luna?"

"She is," Caleb sighed. "The Council of Elders nearly tore the roof off the assembly hall over this. For centuries, werewolf society has never had a female Alpha. But Alexander overruled them all, even invoking royal authority to force it through. He said ability matters more than gender, and bloodline outweighs tradition."

I stood frozen, unable to speak for a long moment.

The first female Alpha.

"Seems like a lot more happened in these six months than I imagined," I murmured, a bittersweet smile tugging at my lips—half bitter, half relieved.

We walked deeper into the cemetery until we reached the farthest section. There stood two new headstones side by side, their surfaces still unmarred by moss. In the photographs, Uncle Arthur remained stern as ever, and Victoria still wore that expression as if the entire world owed her something.

The surrounding pines swayed gently in the cold wind, their rustling like muffled sobs. The wind picked up, scattering withered yellow leaves that settled on the cold stone monuments. Silence reigned here, broken only by the wind's low lament telling stories of endless sorrow.

I took two bunches of white chrysanthemums from Caleb and placed them gently before their graves.

"Uncle. Victoria."

I knelt down, my fingers tracing the cold engravings on the stone. My eyes finally began to burn with tears.

"I'm sorry I came so late."

"For the past six months, I've been drowning in hatred. I wanted to tear apart everyone who hurt you, piece by piece. I was obsessed with finding the truth, obsessed with revenge… but I discovered that my power is too weak. In the face of absolute authority and conspiracy, I'm nothing but an ant."

The wind grew stronger, whipping my hair around my face.

"It wasn't until recently that I finally understood. Whether it's protecting something or achieving something, it all requires a long process. Some things take ten years, twenty years, maybe a lifetime. Just like you, Uncle Arthur—you spent your entire life protecting my mother and me."

I took a deep breath and looked up through blurred tears at the gray, overcast sky.

"So please, bless me."

"I've found a new purpose now. I'm no longer living for revenge—I'm living for those struggling in the Underground's mire. I'm going to build an order where bloodlines don't determine worth, where mixed-bloods don't die like dogs. I believe that someday, I'll stand high enough. And when that day comes, I'll truly avenge you. I'll drag every rat hiding in the gutters out into the light, one by one."

As I finished speaking, I felt the massive weight that had pressed on my heart for half a year finally begin to shift.

Caleb stood quietly behind me, saying nothing, simply shielding me from the howling wind.

The cemetery remained deathly still, but I knew that something inside me had already begun to break through the soil.