Chapter 201 The weakening alpha
Chapter 201: The Weakening Alpha
Damon POV
The training grounds echoed with the sound of steel clashing against steel as I drove my sword through the wooden dummy with brutal force, imagining a real face. Sweat poured down my face despite the cold morning air. My muscles screamed in protest, but I could not stop. Would not stop.
Because, if I stopped, I would think about Milo. And if I thought about Milo, I would break.
"Again," I growled at Marcus, one of my best warriors, who circled me with cautious eyes.
He hesitates, his eyes flashing with regret "Alpha, you have been training for six hours straight. You need rest."
"I need to be ready." I raised my sword again, ignoring the tremor in my arms. "The Blood Challenge is knocking at the door. I cannot afford weakness."
Marcus opened his mouth to argue, but James's voice cut through the tension. "Traininf dismissed, everyone out. Now."
The warriors scattered quickly. James waited until we were alone before approaching, his expression grim, accusing.
I braced myself for the reprimand.
"You look like death," he said bluntly.
"Good observation." I wiped sweat from my face with the back of my hand. "Was there a point to clearing the grounds?"
"The Queen accepted your challenge." James pulled a sealed letter from his coat. "But she set the date for one month from now instead of the traditional seven days."
My jaw clenched. "She is buying herself time."
"Obviously. The question is, time for what?" James studied me with those sharp eyes that missed nothing. "What is she planning, Damon?"
I turned away, staring at the mountains in the distance. Somewhere beyond those peaks, Milo was trapped in that nightmare. Every instinct screamed at me to march on that pack immediately, to tear down their walls and take back what was mine.
But I had to be smart. Millen was cunning and she had the advantage of home territory, not to mention she now commands the whole council soldiers.
"She knows I am coming," I said quietly. "She will prepare defenses, gather allies, and strengthen her position. Two months gives her plenty of time to stack the odds against me."
"Then we need to be smarter." James moved to stand beside me. "We need to gather our own allies, plan our approach, and..."
He stopped mid-sentence. I felt his eyes on me, studying with an intensity that made my skin prickle.
"What?" I asked without looking at him.
"When was the last time you actually slept?"
"I sleep."
"Damon." His voice sharpened. "Look at me."
I turned reluctantly. James's expression shifted from concern to alarm.
"Your eyes," he whispered. "They are bloodshot. Your skin is pale. You are losing weight." He grabbed my wrist, checking my pulse. "Your heartbeat is irregular. Damon, what the hell is happening to you?"
I pulled away. "I am fine."
"You are dying." The words hung in the air like a death sentence. "The curse. It is still affecting you, is it not? Slowly killing you without Milo here too..."
"I said I am fine." My voice came out harsher than intended. "I just need to train harder. Be stronger. When I face Millen, I cannot afford any weakness. You of all people should know that."
"You stubborn fool." James ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Training harder will only accelerate the process. You need rest. You need Daphne to examine you and..."
"Daphne is locked in her chambers mourning a dead husband who apparently is not dead anymore," I cut him off bitterly. "She has been useless since we returned. I am on my own."
James opened his mouth to argue, but a commotion at the pack entrance stopped him. Shouts echoed across the grounds. Warriors were assembling rapidly, their hands moving to weapons.
"Now what?" I muttered, already moving toward the disturbance, not waiting for James.
We reached the main gates to find the guards in defensive positions, weapons drawn. But to my shock, they were not facing an enemy army.
A single carriage sat before the gates, elegant and expensive. The crest painted on its side made my blood run cold.
Crimson Moon Pack.
"Stand down," I ordered the guards. "Let them through."
The carriage rolled forward slowly. When it stopped, the door opened and Rosalie stepped out. She wore traveling clothes instead of her usual formal attire, but she still carried herself with the grace of royalty.
Her eyes met mine, and I saw no hostility there. Only determination.
"Alpha Damon," she said formally. "I request an audience."
"You have come a long way," I replied carefully. "I assume this is not a social visit."
"No." She glanced at the assembled warriors, then back to me. "May we speak privately?"
I gestured toward the pack house. "Follow me."
James fell into step beside me as we walked, his hand resting casually on his weapon. Rosalie noticed but said nothing. We entered the great hall, and I directed her to sit at the long table where I held council meetings.
"Speak," I said once we were settled. "Why are you here, Rosalie?"
She folded her hands on the table, her expression serious. "I have come to pledge my pack's full support for your Blood Challenge against the Queen."
Silence filled the hall. James and I exchanged glances of pure shock. I shifted on my seat,
"You are aware," I said slowly, "that supporting me could be seen as an act of war against one of the most powerful packs in the region?"
"I am aware."
"And you are willing to risk your pack's safety for me? The same Alpha you barely tolerated at the alliance gathering?" I leaned forward. "Why would you do that, Rosalie? What is the real reason?"
She met my gaze steadily. "Because it is the right thing to do. The Queen has committed atrocities. Someone must stand against her."
"Noble words." I unleashed a fraction of my Alpha aura, watching her carefully. "But I am not a child who believes in fairy tales. Tell me the truth, or this conversation ends now."
I was really getting annoyed at the whole thing. At being seen as a cheap alpha that can be used for one personal gain.
The pressure of my aura filled the room. Rosalie's composure cracked slightly, sweat beading on her forehead. But she held firm for several long moments before finally breaking.
"It was a pack law," she gasped out. "A promise my great grandmother made that binds our pack to this day."
I pulled back the aura immediately. "Explain."
Rosalie took a shaky breath, composing herself. "Your father. Everyone thought he was a tyrant, a monster who ruled through fear and violence. But the truth was far more complicated."
My chest tightened. "What about my father?"
"He was in love with my grandmother." Rosalie's voice softened. "They met during a peace summit when they were young. By all accounts, it was genuine, deep love. But they came from different worlds. Your father was heir to a powerful pack. And he already promised to another wolf. My grandmother was a naive little girl who believed only in pack traditions, of not getting married.
I sat back slowly, processing this information. My father, in love? It seemed impossible. What he and my mother had could hardly be called love. The man I remembered was cold and put the pack first rather than his personal life.
"They could not marry," Rosalie continued. "The political ramifications would have been catastrophic. So they made a different arrangement. Your father asked my grandmother for one promise, if his bloodline ever needed aid, if his heir ever faced impossible odds, the Crimson Moon Pack would stand with them."
"And your grandmother agreed?"
"She made it a pack law. Binding on all future Alphas." Rosalie's expression was solemn. "I am honor bound to help you, Damon, especially now. Whether I want to or not."
Before I could respond, the war horns blasted across the territory. The sound was deafening, urgent, signaling immediate danger.
James and I were on our feet instantly, weapons drawn. Rosalie followed as we sprinted toward the entrance. Warriors poured from buildings, assembling in defensive formations.
We burst through the main gates and stopped dead at what was in our front.
An army stood before us. Not just any army. Five separate forces, each flying different banners. I recognized them instantly.
The three unrighteous pack Alphas. And they had brought others with them. Smaller packs, rogues, mercenaries. Hundreds of warriors, all armed and ready for battle.
"Impossible," James breathed beside me.
But it was not impossible. It was happening. The very packs I had allied with, the ones I thought I had brought to heel, stood before me with weapons drawn.
And at their head, grinning like a wolf who had cornered his prey, stood Alpha Chen of the pacific pack.
"Hello, Damon," he called out, his voice carrying across the distance. "We need to talk about your leadership. Or rather, the end of it."