45- Blood Oath
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POV Edric Eldoria:
"Kill him!" I ordered Anton.
He scratched the back of his neck, showing his disapproval with the command.
"Are you sure?" he pressed. "He used to be one of our best buyers."
"Who lost all his fortune in gambling and now has no money to pay us," I retorted, slamming the reports onto the table, irritated. "Killing Peter will serve as a message to all of our buyers. No one can think they have the right to owe us, Anton. Take Peter’s head and make sure everyone knows why it happened."
Peter had once been one of our biggest buyers, but he spiraled after trading his wife for a much younger girl, who led him into the world of gambling. Since then, he couldn’t keep the business running, spending more than he earned. He owed money to many people—including me.
And that was unacceptable.
"All right," he finally agreed. He pulled his phone from his pocket and typed a message. "Done. Peter’s head is on auction."
"Good."
I pressed my temples and closed my eyes, inhaling deeply. The world of business could be more suffocating than leading an entire pack, most of the time. My wolves followed me, listened, and obeyed my orders—unlike my clients.
I opened my mouth to respond to Anton when I felt I was about to suffocate.
I stood abruptly, the chair skidding back against my legs.
I blinked, confused.
A bitter taste stung my tongue. It wasn’t just fear—it was absolute panic.
A stabbing pain hit the side of my head, causing an instant, deep ache as the taste of blood spread in my mouth.
My skin chilled.
I staggered for a moment, not understanding what was happening. I felt my pupils dilate and the color of my eyes shift.
Anton stepped back, noticing the sudden change.
I was on the verge of losing control to my wolf. He sensed what I could not, something that had slipped past me.
"Anton, where’s Lunara?" I demanded, hearing my heart race.
The world seemed to stop spinning, closing in around me.
I tried to keep the fear away, but it was inevitable. If I closed my eyes, I could see Catalina’s lifeless body behind my eyelids. I could not—would not—let that happen again, would not fail once more.
He wrinkled his nose, confused.
"If I’m not mistaken, Lyris said she was going to invite her to the pups’ challenge. She’s been trying to include Lunara ever since Thalira sabotaged her cakes."
What the omega had done infuriated me. She had no right to enter my home and tamper with what belonged to Lunara. The she-wolf had good intentions, and Thalira ruined it. Since then, she was forbidden from setting foot in my house.
"What phase are they at?" I asked, my voice deep and rough, half-shifted in my current state.
Part man, part beast.
"Primary, I think."
He didn’t need to say more. I bolted out of the office with inhuman speed. I heard Anton shout my name.
"Call Andrei and meet me in the forest—we have company!"
The fear I felt wasn’t mine. It was Lunara’s.
Just like the stabbing pain in the side of my head and the taste of blood. She was hurt.
That’s why my wolf was clawing to take over, why he was desperate to reach her.
Lunara belonged to me. She was a she-wolf under my care, under my protection. What kind of Alpha would I be if I let them take her?
I would not fail again.
And my pack—so many females and pups—all heading in the same direction as her. All of them outside the boundaries of my territory, beyond my protections, and in danger.
I sprinted through the trees at a breakneck pace. They blurred into streaks before my eyes. My steps were silent on the dry leaves and twigs, making sure none of them detected me.
As I drew closer, I smelled my pack. The scents came from different directions as the pups searched for the objects hidden for their challenge.
I didn’t waste time distinguishing the scents to find hers, because I knew exactly where she was. Not me—but my wolf did.
I veered left without slowing down.
The first scent that hit me was lamb’s meat—strong and dense, from a freshly slaughtered animal meant to make the challenge easier for the pups.
Then I smelled her. Dew and wild jasmine.
I also caught Lyris’s scent, a pup’s, and the stench of the damned wolves who belonged to no pack in the region.
And blood.
The unmistakable scent of her blood. Lunara’s blood.
I didn’t falter, though I felt my heart skip. My steps stayed firm, carrying me toward her. I couldn’t tell if the desperation came from me—fear of failing again—or from my wolf’s obsession with the girl.
The sight was worse than I imagined.
Lunara was injured on the ground, dizzy, struggling to stand. Blood streamed down the side of her head, staining her dark hair. A few meters away, a pup lay fallen. And Lyris stood farther back, trying to keep the wolf she was fighting away from Lunara.
I stopped in front of them, grabbed the bastard by the sides of his head, and twisted his neck to the left, snapping the bones. He died the instant they cracked.
Lyris was panting, terrified.
"They… they almost took her," she whispered, her lips trembling. "They killed Ruda. They killed the pup," she sobbed, a tear slipping from one of her brown eyes.
Her knees gave out, and I caught her before she hit the ground, pulling her head against my chest.
"It’s going to be all right. You did your best—so strong, just like I said you are," I whispered.
She shoved me away and turned her back, as if trying to recover from the emotional blow. Lyris was tough, and showing vulnerability was hard for her.
"Just… leave me alone," she muttered, her voice cracking. She took a few steps away from the scene.
I rushed to Lunara, slid a hand behind her head, and carefully pulled her to me. She blinked, but her eyes were clouded, distant. Tears streamed down her face, her lips were pale, and she felt cold.
"Lunara," I gasped, worried.
"He died," she wept, choking on the words.
I looked to the side at Ruda, lying among the dry leaves. His eyes were clouded black, the mark of a dead wolf. His head was bent at an unnatural angle, blood trickling from his nose and mouth. His bronzed skin was already fading to a sickly pale far too soon for a boy meant to live five hundred years.
Saliva burned down my throat, bitter.
Guilt and rage waged war inside me.
One of mine had been killed.
One of my wolves, under my protection. A pup who hadn’t even reached puberty yet, who lived far too short a life for someone with centuries ahead.
I tore my gaze from him and turned back to the wounded omega. I leaned in and inhaled her scent. Another male’s smell clung to her.
I pulled her closer and licked the wound on her head, running my tongue over torn skin and blood-matted strands of hair.