Malrik’s mind raced as he escorted Erika back to her quarters, her earlier display of power still fresh in his thoughts. The raw potential she wielded was staggering, intoxicating even. He kept his composure, but deep down, he felt a heady mix of triumph and unease. She was no ordinary Luna. She was a force unlike anything the Lycan world had seen in centuries.
Reaching her chamber, Malrik pushed the heavy wooden door open, gesturing for her to enter. The dim light from the torches cast flickering shadows across the stone walls, giving the room an almost otherworldly glow.
“You must rest now, my dear,” he said smoothly, his tone almost paternal. “There’s so much for us to do tomorrow.”
Erika stopped short, turning to face him. Her expression was a mixture of defiance and wariness.
“Wait,” she said, her voice steady despite the tension in her posture. “Before I even think about doing anything for you, I
The cavern’s dining hall was dimly lit, with flickering torches casting shadows against the jagged rock walls. Long wooden tables stretched across the room, covered in simple cloths and laden with platters of food—freshly baked bread, sizzling bacon, golden eggs, and steaming coffee. The smell, usually comforting, made Erika’s stomach churn.She sat at one end of the table, her hands folded in her lap. Malrik, seated across from her, watched her carefully, his expression unusually gentle. He lifted his coffee mug to his lips but didn’t sip, his gaze never leaving her.“You’ve barely touched your food,” Malrik said, breaking the silence.Erika shook her head, staring at the untouched plate before her. “I’m not very hungry.”“Are you feeling unwell?” His concern seemed genuine, though Erika couldn’t shake the sense of ulterior motive behind every word he spoke.“Just
Dinner was lavish—an impressive spread of roast venison, warm bread, root vegetables drizzled in thick, fragrant sauces, and mulled wine that filled the chamber with the scent of spiced berries. The fires crackled in the sconces, casting golden light over the stone walls, but Erika barely touched her plate.She wasn’t sure if it was the heavy air inside the cavern or the unsettling weight in her chest, but she had no appetite. Even the coffee, which she usually craved first thing upon waking, smelled bitter and unappealing. She settled for an orange instead, rolling it between her palms before peeling away its bright skin. The scent of citrus burst into the air, refreshing and grounding.Malrik noticed. “You’re not eating,” he said, nodding toward her barely touched meal.“I’m not very hungry,” she admitted, plucking apart a juicy segment and placing it on her tongue. It was the first thing all day that didn’t make her feel sick.He frowned, waving over a server. “Bring her fresh frui
The moment Erika returned to her chambers, she knew she couldn’t stay. The walls felt like they were closing in, and the knowledge of the life growing inside her only intensified her need to get out. If she stayed, Malrik would find a way to manipulate her. He already had the upper hand, and she couldn’t afford to let him gain any more ground.She had to leave. Tonight.Her breath was slow, measured. She lay still on the bed, her ears attuned to the sounds outside her chamber—the faint murmur of guards, the occasional drip of water from the cavern ceiling, the distant rustling of unseen creatures in the tunnels. She needed to be patient. Timing was everything.She had spent the last few hours mapping the sounds, committing the guards’ movements to memory. Every few minutes, she heard their boots scuff against the floor as they paced. Sometimes they spoke in hushed voices. Other times, silence stretched long between their shifts.She waited until she heard their footsteps fading down
The tavern was dimly lit, its wooden beams sagging from decades of weight and wear. A haze of smoke hung in the air, curling from pipes and cigars, mixing with the acrid scent of stale beer and sweat. The low hum of voices created a cocoon of sound, shielding each table’s secrets from the next.Diego sat at the bar, his broad shoulders hunched over a half-empty glass of whiskey. The amber liquid barely rippled as he turned it between his fingers, staring at the way the light refracted through it. He should’ve been out there—tracking, hunting, fighting—but here he was, wasting away in a dingy tavern, drowning in his failures.A week. Seven days. A hundred and sixty-eight hours since Erika had been taken. And he had nothing.He tossed the whiskey back in one gulp, wincing at the burn.Emily’s words still rang in his head: “Let go, Diego. If she comes back, then you’re meant to be.”What a load of crap.Erika wouldn’t come back because she was being held against her will, manipulated, use
Diego rode the adrenaline rush all the way back to the house, his boots kicking up dirt as he took the steps two at a time. His mind was sharp, focused—the first time in a week he felt like he was moving toward Erika rather than away from her.He pushed through the front door, scanning the dimly lit space until he spotted Gabriel at the wooden dining table, surrounded by old, yellowed journals and stacks of notes. The sorcerer barely looked up as Diego stormed in, his brows furrowed over a page he was meticulously deciphering.“I’ve got something,” Diego announced, breathless.Gabriel finally looked up, adjusting his reading glasses. “That makes two of us,” he said, holding up a thick, leather-bound journal. “Though, you go first. You look like you’re about to explode.”Diego paced the length of the room before stopping short, gripping the back of a chair. “The settlement at Devil’s Horn.”Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”“I overheard some men at the tavern. There’s a settleme
The mansion was no longer safe. The moment Hugo delivered the news, Diego knew he had only moments to decide his next move before The Board sent more agents to seize him. He couldn't fight them—not alone. And with his pack taken, he had no leverage. His only option was to flee.Diego packed only the essentials—cash, weapons, and a burner phone he found in his old stash. Hugo, despite his age, moved swiftly through the house, gathering supplies without needing to be told. He had been Diego’s father’s right-hand man for decades and had served as the pack’s steward since Diego was a child. But tonight, he wasn’t just a steward. He was Diego’s only ally.They slipped out through a side passage, avoiding the main gates. Hugo had taken the liberty of securing a vehicle—an old black SUV that blended in easily with the nighttime traffic. They drove in silence, putting Valentia behind them as fast as possible.Diego clutched the steering wheel, his mind racing. Three days… The Board had taken
The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, the sound of rustling leaves a constant reminder that they were deep in enemy territory. Diego led the way through the dense forest, his keen senses on high alert. Gabriel followed closely, his footsteps unnervingly light for a man who had spent most of his life buried in books. Hugo, on the other hand, grumbled under his breath as he trudged behind them, his broad frame less suited for the stealth required of this mission.They had been traveling for hours, weaving through the shadowed terrain of the valley that curved toward Devil’s Horn. Despite their caution, Diego couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. He signaled for a stop and scanned the forest. The trees stood still in the absence of wind, yet something felt off.Gabriel stepped up beside him, voice low. “You sense it too?”Diego gave a terse nod. “We’re not alone.”Hugo exhaled sh
The scent of roasted meat and spiced tea filled the dining chamber, but Diego barely noticed it. His gaze was fixed on Erika. She looked healthy, her dark hair gleaming in the firelight, her posture at ease as she sliced into a piece of bread. No chains, no signs of distress.And beside her—his mother.Dunia met his eyes with a calm, unreadable expression. She took a slow sip from her tea, as if she were at a leisurely brunch rather than in the stronghold of their supposed enemy.Diego’s hands clenched into fists. What the hell was going on?Malrik gestured toward the long wooden table. “Sit, Diego. Eat. We have much to discuss.”Diego barely heard him. His entire world had narrowed to Erika, sitting there as though she belonged.“You’re safe,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended.Erika finally looked up at him, her gaze level. “I told you before—I can take care of myself.
The night was a cloak of darkness as Diego’s group pressed toward the palace gates. Cloaked in heavy, dark fabrics that hid their gleaming armor and weapons, Diego led his pack through the throng of angry citizens gathering outside the Citadel. The crowd’s chant—“We want justice! No more deaths! We want justice!”—swept around them like a rising tide, a volatile mixture of hope and rage.As they moved with practiced stealth, Diego’s sharp eyes caught movement among the people. Emerging from the crowd, a familiar face stepped forward— Tristan. His expression was a mix of concern and disbelief, and he glanced around nervously.“Diego! What are you doing here, man?”He leaned in close, ensuring no one else overheard. “It’s brave of you to show up, but it’s not wise. You must get out of here before the guards see you.”Diego’s jaw tightened. His voice dropped to
Back at the safe house—a dilapidated stone building hidden deep within the forest—Diego and his pack finally found a moment of respite. The adrenaline of the Citadel assault still pulsed in their veins, and exhaustion mingled with the bitter taste of blood and uncertainty. In a sparsely lit common room, the survivors huddled around a scarred wooden table, patches of moonlight seeping through the narrow windows.Diego sat heavily in a rickety chair, his mind a jumble of victorious flashes and looming dread. He rubbed a hand over his bruised face, trying to reconcile the chaos of the previous night with the silent calm that now enveloped them.Alessandro broke the heavy silence, his voice low and resolute. “Alpha, we did what we could. But this was only the first blow.”Diego’s eyes flicked over the faces of his pack—Pippo’s steady gaze, Aristide’s determined frown, Sofia’s quiet assurance, and Lucia’s al
Across the sprawling city, the revelation of damning evidence displayed on every screen sent shockwaves through the hearts of Lycans and humans alike. In bustling marketplaces, somber faces turned toward flickering displays, while loyalists of The Board exchanged horrified glances as records of corruption, bribery, and clandestine orders—painfully detailed in ink and parchment—unfurled before them.Deep within the inner sanctum of The Board’s Citadel, chaos reigned. In a vast council chamber adorned with opulent tapestries and gilded accents, high-ranking officials scrambled in frantic whispers and hurried footsteps. The polished marble floor, once a symbol of order and power, now echoed with the panicked clatter of advisors desperate to scrub away the truth.At the head of the chamber, seated upon an imposing throne of darkened iron and gold, the Lycan King glared at a massive screen where the evidence continued to scroll relentlessly. His eyes, burn
The evidence lay before them— a damning collection of ledgers, secret communications, and unspeakable transactions that painted The Board as the true architects of their oppression. For weeks after escaping Blackthorn, sleepless hours had been spent poring over these documents. Now, as dawn broke over the Citadel, the weight of truth charged the air like electricity.In a concealed antechamber near the Citadel’s heart— a labyrinth of twisting corridors and shadowed betrayals—the group gathered around a battered wooden table. Malrik presided over the meeting as they reviewed their next move.Their objective was clear: infiltrate the central communications hub of The Board and release the evidence for all to see. It was a plan born of desperation and hope— a final blow meant to shatter the foundation of the corrupt regime.Diego’s gaze was resolute as he scanned the map spread out
The Citadel’s inner corridors stretched out before them, a labyrinth of cold stone and whispered secrets. In the aftermath of the fierce battle outside, every step now was heavy with both hope and danger. As she led the small team deeper into the fortress, Erika could feel the pulse of history in the very walls, and with it, the weight of a future she had vowed to reclaim.Even in the tense silence of those shadowed passageways, the sounds of the ongoing struggle echoed in the distance—shouts, clashing steel, and the rhythmic thud of determined feet. Diego’s pack was with them. The faces of Alessandro, Pippo, Aristide, Sofia, and Lucia were etched with resolve despite fresh wounds from Blackthorn. Their presence bolstered her spirit, a reminder that she was not alone in this fight.They emerged into a wide antechamber where dim torchlight danced across rows of ancient ledgers and scattered parchments. The walls, heavy with the scent of dust and time,
The night was near absolute darkness as Erika crept along the outer perimeter of the Citadel. Every step was measured and silent, her heartbeat the only sound in the void. The Citadel—an imposing fortress of cold stone and iron—loomed ahead, its high walls nearly blending with the starless sky. She clutched her dagger tightly, her senses heightened not just by adrenaline but by a deep, unyielding resolve.Inside her mind, memories of the rebellion’s cause stirred: the harsh truths Malrik had revealed, the corruption of The Board, and the painful loss of her family. Though she fought for justice, a part of her still ached with longing for the life she’d once known—a life now replaced by duty and the weight of a new life growing inside her.From the shadows, she saw movement—a group of guards, patrolling the wall like silent wraiths. She pressed herself against the cold stone and drew a slow breath. If we’re going to infiltra
The battlefield was no longer just a stretch of land soaked in blood—it was the precipice of history. Their war was reaching its breaking point, and with it, so were they.Diego stood atop the ridge, surveying the battlefield with Gabriel and Hugo at his side. The remnants of Malrik’s rebellion were preparing for the final offensive against the King’s forces, and the air was thick with tension.The soldiers below moved with quiet determination, securing weapons, reinforcing defenses, and bracing themselves for what was to come. Beyond them, in the valley, the Lycan King’s army gathered, their banners rippling like shadows in the wind.Erika was somewhere in the settlement, rallying the civilians, ensuring the wounded were tended to, preparing for the worst.Diego still hadn’t fully processed the revelation from the night before. A child. His child. Their child.It changed everything.And yet, here he was, still marching toward war."They’ll strike at dawn," Gabriel said, drawing Diego
The stench of scorched earth and blood clung to the air, thick and suffocating. The battle had quieted, but the tension was far from over.Diego stood at the edge of the ruined courtyard, his body aching from the sorcerer’s last attack. Blackthorn’s fortress loomed before them, its ancient stone walls now cracked and marred by battle.They had taken Blackthorn.But the victory felt hollow.Malrik sat on a broken column, still regaining his strength. Erika stood nearby, silent, staring into the shadows where the sorcerer had disappeared.Diego wiped the sweat and blood from his brow. "We need to regroup," he said. "Now."Malrik let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. "You think?"Diego ignored him, turning to Erika. "What was that back there? That magic—I've never seen anything like it."Erika didn’t answer right away. When she finally did, her voice was quiet but certain. "He wasn’t fighting to wi
The night howled with the promise of war.Diego’s boots pressed into the damp earth as he moved through the underbrush, his senses sharpened by the pulse of approaching violence. The air carried the metallic scent of sharpened steel, the musk of Lycans shifting into their true forms. In the distance, beyond the hills that sloped toward Blackthorn’s walls, torchlight flickered—a fortress on the brink of being torn apart.Behind him, Malrik’s warriors crept like living shadows, their eyes gleaming in the dark. Gabriel stood to Diego’s right, fingers twitching, ready to weave sorcery into the battlefield. Erika was just behind them, poised yet unshaken, her dagger glinting under the pale moon.Diego exhaled, steadying himself. "We do this fast and hard. No second chances."Malrik, crouched beside him, smirked. "You sound like you’re giving orders, Alpha."Diego didn’t rise to the bait. "You brought me here for a reason. Let’s get it done."A low growl rumbled through Malrik’s chest, but