Chapter 123 — Teeth Bared
Chapter 123 — Teeth Bared
“Alder, please,” Cass whispered, voice trembling. The blade at her throat pressed harder, the cold kiss of steel biting into her skin.
“Don’t beg for him,” Alder said. “Not in front of me.”
She didn’t flinch. “Then don’t give me a reason to.”
Caius didn’t move. His entire body was coiled, still in half-shift—fangs bared, eyes blazing silver, hands curled like claws. One wrong move and it would all end in blood.
“You’re not walking out of here,” he said quietly. “You know that.”
“I know,” Alder said. “But neither are you if I put this knife through her.”
Cass tried to breathe, but her lungs felt tight. She could feel Alder shaking—rage, desperation, heartbreak. “You said you loved me,” she whispered. “Then prove it. Let me go.”
“I did love you,” Alder said, his voice fraying. “I still do. But you chose him. You always chose him.”
“I never had a choice,” she snapped. “You kept me locked away. You let me believe he was gone, and you fed me lies. That’s not love, Alder. That’s possession.”
Alder’s jaw clenched. “You don’t understand. I did everything for you. Everything. I would’ve burned down the world to keep you safe.”
“You burned it anyway,” Caius growled. “And you’re still losing her.”
Alder’s eyes flicked to Caius. “You don’t deserve her.”
“And you do?” Caius’s voice dropped to a snarl. “You took her. Threatened her. Trapped her. You broke every vow a mate could make. The only reason your heart’s still beating is because her blood’s on your arm.”
“Stop,” Cass breathed. “Stop talking and listen.”
Both men froze.
She turned her head slightly, just enough to meet Alder’s eyes. “You can’t fix this. Not with fear. Not with blades. The only way this ends without you dead is if you walk away. You know that, don’t you?”
Alder’s breathing hitched. “I don’t have anything left.”
“You do,” she whispered. “You still have a choice.”
His arm trembled.
“Let me go.”
For a second, everything went still. No one breathed. No one moved.
Then—
“Don’t,” Caius warned, one foot shifting forward.
“Caius,” Cass said sharply. “Don’t provoke him.”
“I’m not,” he said, eyes locked on Alder’s. “I’m promising him. If you bleed, I end him slow.”
Alder’s grip didn’t ease. His voice came out hollow. “I was never going to get out of this alive, was I?”
Cass shook her head. “Not if you keep holding a knife to my throat.”
More voices began rising below. Footsteps. Her people. Caius’s pack.
“You’ll never make it past the door,” Caius said. “Let her go, and I’ll give you five minutes to run. You’ve got my word.”
“I don’t want your mercy,” Alder muttered. “I wanted her.”
“And now you’ve lost her,” Cass said softly.
Alder made a sound—somewhere between a sob and a snarl.
Then—
The knife slipped.
Cass felt it first—not pain, but the hot pressure of the blade pulling just enough to graze. A drop of blood welled at her neck.
Caius’s roar cracked through the chamber like thunder.
He lunged.
Cass screamed, twisting as Alder yanked her backward, blade dragging against her collarbone. She slammed her heel down on his foot, elbowed his ribs. Alder staggered, but didn’t fall.
Caius collided with them like a black hurricane.
The force knocked Cass free. She hit the stone hard, rolling to the side as claws and fangs and steel exploded in a tangle of limbs.
“Caius!” she shouted, but he didn’t hear her. He was gone—buried in the madness.
Alder’s dagger flashed, slicing Caius’s arm. Blood sprayed, but the king didn’t falter.
Caius grabbed Alder by the throat and slammed him against the wall. “You don’t touch what’s mine.”
Alder spat blood in his face. “She was never yours.”
Caius growled, lifting him higher.
“Caius!” Cass shouted again, stumbling to her feet, one hand pressed to the shallow cut on her neck. “Don’t kill him!”
He froze.
Alder gasped, feet kicking, face going red.
“Please,” she said, her voice shaking. “Not like this.”
Caius’s claws trembled against Alder’s throat. “He hurt you.”
“I know.” Her eyes glistened. “But don’t let him take your soul with him.”
Caius hesitated.
Then he dropped Alder.
The man crumpled to the ground, coughing, broken. Not dead. But not whole either.
Caius turned to Cass. His hands were bloodied, his eyes wild, but his voice was soft. “Are you alright?”
She nodded. “I am now.”
He reached for her, cupped her cheek. “He could’ve killed you.”
“But he didn’t,” she whispered, leaning into his touch. “You came for me.”
“Always.”
Behind them, Alder lay gasping, silent—until his hand twitched.
Cass turned just in time to see the glint of steel—Alder’s dagger, raised one final time as he lurched from the ground, aiming not for her, but for Caius’s exposed back.
“Caius!” she cried.
The king didn’t hesitate. He spun, caught Alder’s wrist mid-strike, and drove his own blade into Alder’s gut with brutal precision.
Alder choked, breath catching, eyes wide in disbelief as the knife sank deep.
Caius leaned close, voice low and final. “You should’ve stayed down.”
He pulled the blade free. Alder collapsed.
Cass fell with him.
“No,” she breathed, voice breaking as she dropped to her knees beside him. Blood pooled beneath Alder’s body, soaking into the stone. His eyes searched hers—not with hate, but something softer. Regret. Memory. Love, twisted and ruined.