Chapter 164
Dax went down on one forearm, still on his knees, halfway to lying prostrate on his office floor.
“I gave YOU to her, not the other way around, young one,” the King retorted casually.
The door burst open.
“Father, please!” a shrill voice cried out.
In less than a second, Luna Diane was on her knees before the King, her palms together as she gazed up at her father, her face pale and covered in tears.
The door swung shut behind her.
In the brief moment it took for the door to close, no eyes of the shifters outside the door dared to look upon the scene unfolding inside Dax’s office.
From the first strike from the Alpha King, Dax had cut off his connection to his pack.
Once that had happened, his Luna had found his last location and had hurried over.
Dax fell forward, gasping as the weight disappeared.
He struggled upright but didn’t quite make it, instead falling backward and sitting on his buttocks.
He rested for a brief moment before standing and moving past the King to his Luna, helping her stand.
“Dax…,” she whimpered, resting a hand against his trembling chest.
He opened the door, stroked her cheek gently, shaking his head softly as he guided her out of the room.
He shut the door after giving her a small bow and a small smile.
As the door closed, his shoulders heaved as he rested against the heavy wood door, his back to the King.
He turned slowly, breathing deeply as he steadied his nerves. He approached the King, who was back behind the desk, gazing out at the night sky.
He knelt, on both knees, controlling his pulse as Bentax did his work.
The room was silent.
A few moments later, Dax spoke.
“I have no words. I will not waste your time,” Dax rumbled.
“My son is dying. My Healer has confirmed that he has three days. My son is more important than a hundred fire wolves,” he stated firmly.
“The girl has pledged her life to his. No one is better equipped in mind or wolf to get what is needed. If Bloodrayne has the information, the girl will get it,” he concluded flatly.
“Even if she dies? Even if the child of your shadow dies?” King Asher tossed over his shoulder.
“They, father and daughter, are both of Lightmoon. We live on Blood and Honor,” Dax replied tersely.
“Blood and Honor…yes…that fool used the same words when he raised his blade against us…,” the King murmured, his eyes facing forward, out the window, as his mind went backward to the past.
Alpha King Asher turned casually to Dax.
“What is the child’s name again?” he droned.
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Using Marian’s name, the King had found and connected with her, without her knowing it.
He had left Lightmoon with three wolves in tow – Finn, Tryan, and Gamma Jackson.
Now, the King had stepped forward.
The other three wolves remained behind the trees, cloaked by the King himself.
“Father,” Tobias breathed, his blue eyes widening, “how?”
“It has been a long time, Child,” King Asher droned in his soft voice.
The entire forest could have heard a pin drop. No one moved. No one could believe the words they had just heard.
Marian, standing in front of the encircled Bloodrayne leaders, gaped.
Misha, within the Bloodrayne circle of warriors, stared at the King, his father, and back, lips parted but no words escaping from his tongue.
Eaden and the rest of the Bloodrayne shifters who made up the circle all stared wide-eyed at the King. Even those behind their Alpha. Not one of them dared to gaze at their pack Alpha.
“How long have you been –” Tobias growled.
“Listening? Watching? Monitoring you and your little hounds?” the King cut in smoothly.
“You –” Tobias retorted.
“No, Child. You. YOU – you will not speak; you will not move; you will not interrupt me,” the King cut in calmly, speaking softly, his expression and poise relaxed.
He had not moved from where he had stopped when he first entered the clearing.
He may as well have been in his court on a warm summer’s day, and not in the middle of a forest, at the height of winter, alone, with a group of rebels and one descendant of an ancient bloodline.
“Where is the one from the Seer’s line?!” King Asher remarked, louder this time, but still calmly, his eyes fixed on Tobias.
The old shifter, Jorak, ran out from the same direction in which he had disappeared moments ago.
He knelt, bowing his head to the King, forehead on the ground, his whole frame shaking.
Asher stared down at the old shifter.
“Name!” the King ordered calmly.
“Jorak Sintarl,” Jorak replied, his shaky voice muffled, thanks to his face practically being right on the short grass.
“Your father’s name?” the King inquired in the same tone.
“Ginda Sintral,” Jorak choked out, his small frame trembling like a leaf.
“Jorak, son of Ginda…yes, I remember that name…good…good,” the King commented distantly.
“Speak. What will rouse my grandchild?” the King continued evenly.
Jorak remained face to the ground, shivering.
“Rise, Seer, speak,” the King commanded.
Jorak raised his head, but remained on both knees, his head bowed.
“King Alpha, forgive me, I am old, I am overwhelmed. May I address my Alpha on this matter?” he stammered.
Asher stared at the Seer.
“I am honored,” he remarked formally, a small smile on his face as he stared down at the elderly shifter.
“You may address your Alpha,” he stated graciously.
“Thank you, King Alpha,” Jorak panted.
He turned on his knees and bowed to Tobias as the circle became a line to either side of the Bloodrayne leaders.
“Alpha Tobias,” Jorak breathed.
“Rise, Master Jorak,” Tobias said tightly, his gaze on the Alpha King, whose eyes were on Marian, who was gaping at the King.
Alpha King Asher Mangar smiled softly at Marian. Her face lost all color.
He shifted his gaze to Tobias and then to Jorak, whose back was to him.
Misha was beside Marian, helping the dazed she-wolf sit on the grass; no one, certainly not Marian, had noticed him leave his father’s side.
He knelt beside her, pushing energy into her cold body, his eyes on his father and the Alpha King.
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“Alpha Tobias, the Lycan’s transmigration was rushed. What the Successor described was a meeting of worlds. The Lycan was afraid and called to his people. The old gods. They answered him, to save his life,” Jorak reported swiftly.
The old shifter swallowed.
“My people have the herbs, but…,” he trembled, then inhaled sharply, holding his breath.
No one moved or spoke.
The old shifter shuddered, then continued.