Chapter One Hundred Three – A Hero’s Mask
The silence that followed Cass’s sharp words hung in the room like a blade suspended mid-fall.
Alder straightened his spine, schooling his expression into something noble. He glanced at Cass and then at Caius, whose breathing had grown heavier with the effort of keeping his wolf at bay.
"Forgive me," Alder said smoothly, his voice calm but heavy with false humility. He turned slightly toward Caius, his gaze flickering with veiled amusement. "I didn’t mean to cause tension, truly. It’s just... seeing Cass again, remembering what we once shared—sometimes emotions have a way of slipping through."
He turned back to Cass, softening his tone further. "The last thing I’d want is to upset you, or harm the peace you’ve finally found... or the baby you now carry. I only wish to be close again, even if only as a friend."
He turned back to Cass and took her hand with practiced softness, brushing his lips across her knuckles and lingering just a second too long. His eyes held hers as if daring her to pull away, but she didn’t.
"You’ve always been gracious," he murmured, his tone laced with nostalgic melancholy. "I’ll take my leave now. But know this—some part of me will always wait for the day you might look at me the way you used to. Even if it's foolish hope, it’s mine to carry."
Cass looked conflicted. "You don’t have to—"
But Alder was already stepping back. "It’s alright. I understand. Some things are... delicate."
Caius’s glare tracked him like a predator’s eyes, and Alder didn’t miss the low growl rumbling from deep in his chest.
With one final, gentlemanly nod, Alder exited the room.
The moment the heavy door closed behind him, Alder’s entire demeanor shifted.
The mask of humility slipped away, replaced by the cold precision of a man calculating his next move.
It’s working.
Cass still defended him. She still felt something—if not love, then loyalty. And that was enough.
He made his way through the castle, exiting into the city where the atmosphere was far less suffocating. A short walk took him to a dimly lit pub nestled in a back alley, the kind of place where secrets thrived.
Inside, his beta was waiting.
Alder sat, waved off the bartender, and leaned forward. "It’s time."
His beta—narrowed his eyes. "What’s the play?"
Alder grinned.
"We create a diversion. A fake attack on the castle—explosions, fire, chaos. Something loud enough to scatter the guards, rattle the council, and trigger immediate panic. In the confusion, Cass will be left vulnerable. I’ll be there to swoop in like the perfect hero, protecting her from the danger I orchestrated myself. She’ll be terrified, uncertain—ripe for persuasion. I’ll tell her I’m taking her somewhere safe, somewhere Caius can’t reach. Somewhere she’ll be mine again."
Garrick arched a brow. "And then?"
"Then," Alder said, eyes darkening, "I take her. Disappear with her. Keep her hidden long enough to remind her who we were... and what we can still be. Once she’s with me, I’ll isolate her—strip away the lies Caius fed her. I’ll flood her with memories, with the truth of what we once had. She’ll start to question everything. She won’t have a choice. I’ll make her see that she was always meant to be mine."
His grin widened. "She’ll come back to me. Willingly—or not."
Garrick tapped his fingers against the table, then gave a slow nod. "And Caius?"
Alder’s voice dropped to a whisper. "Let the castle burn behind me. He’ll never find us. Once Cass accepts me, the child will fall under my command. With her by my side, no one will question my claim to the throne."
He leaned closer, lowering his voice further. "There’s a witch—an old one, hidden beyond the ridge. She can sever the bond between Cass and Caius. Once that tie is broken, I’ll mark her myself. Make her mine, truly and irrevocably."
Outside, the moon had risen. Inside, a plan built on obsession had begun to unfold.
Garrick gave a slow, deliberate nod, eyes gleaming with dark understanding. "I’ll inform the other Alphas. The plan will be set in motion before the week is out. We’ll be ready."
Alder leaned back, a satisfied smirk pulling at his lips. "Good. Let them think it's just another threat from the borders. They’ll never see what’s coming until it’s too late. The Alphas want me on the throne—they’ve made that clear. They’re tired of Caius’s rule, tired of weakness disguised as virtue. Once Cass is mine, and the child bound to me, the throne will fall into my hands by their will."
He turned to Garrick with a sharp glint in his eyes. "Go to Eira. Tell her she’ll be the one to get Cass where she needs to be on the day of the attack. She’s already compromised—she’ll do it. And if she hesitates, remind her what’s at stake. Remind her I can ruin her with a single sentence."
Garrick nodded once. "Consider it done."
He turned and exited the pub, disappearing into the shadows.
Left alone, Alder leaned back in his chair, a slow, dark smile spreading across his face. The flickering candlelight caught the edge of his jaw, sharpening his expression into something far more sinister.
He leaned back in his chair, unaware of the quiet madness curling at the edge of his thoughts. The broken bond hadn’t just faded—it had left a void. And that void was slowly corrupting him, distorting the line between love and obsession.
Cass haunted his every moment. He didn’t realize it yet, not fully—but his mind had begun to warp around the idea of having her back. Not because of love. Not even because of revenge. But because something inside him insisted she still belonged to him. That she was his to reclaim.
A hunger had taken root. Subtle. Insidious. And it whispered that only Cass could fill it.
Cass had once been his everything. The moment that bond snapped—when she rejected him for another—something in him twisted. Now, obsession festered where love had lived. She wasn’t just a woman he wanted anymore. She was the symbol of everything he’d lost—and everything he would reclaim.
She was mine once, he told himself. And she will be again. One way or another.