Chapter 296: Chapter 296 She’s Back
(Third POV)
"Useless!" Alpha Lucas’ roar shook the walls, the sound echoing through the vast chamber like thunder. "A whole army of rogues, trained and fed by me, and not a single one of them could stand against a single pack?" His voice dropped to a dangerous growl. "Tell me... how is that possible?"
The heavy table in front of him split in two, chairs overturned, and shattered glass glittered across the marble floor. His overbearing aura and the fear of his subjects thickened the air. Blood painted the floor as bodies littered across it.
Alpha Lucas stood at the center of the chaos, his chest heaving as his claws dug deep into the wood of his throne. His golden eyes blazed with fury, their glow enough to make the guards nearest to him drop to their knees.
No one dared to answer. The few guards left alive pressed their heads to the floor. The torches flickered weakly, as if they too feared his wrath. Lucas’s gaze swept over the room, and the weight of his glare alone was enough to make the air grow thin.
Two corrupted witches knelt near the shattered remains of the table, their bodies trembling as they tried to steady their breaths. One dared to lift her head, her voice shaky but desperate to speak. "My lord... please, let me explain."
Lucas’s attention snapped to her like a blade. "Explain?" His voice was low, yet it carried enough force to send a chill down every spine in the room. "Then do it. Because unless you tell me why my army of rogues was crushed by a half–broken pack, your head will decorate my floor."
The witch flinched, her trembling hands clutching the edge of her robe. "It wasn’t them, Alpha. It wasn’t the Bloodshade pack alone."
Lucas tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing. "Then who?"
The witch swallowed hard, forcing the words out before fear could silence her. "A fae... my lord. A powerful one. She appeared out of nowhere and destroyed our formation. Even our poisonous spell was dispersed by her. None of our magic worked on her... and there were two Lycan... one was desperately fighting against us but we had the upper hand, out of nowhere the Lycan King came out with this fae... she had silver-white hair and golden wings." Her words came out disoriented.
The silence that followed was sharp and suffocating. Lucas didn’t move for several heartbeats. The torches hissed softly in the corners, their flames trembling in rhythm with the fear that filled the room.
Finally, his lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. "A fae?" he muttered, his tone low, dangerous. "And you’re telling me she nullified a deadly poison from the Bone Witch?"
The second witch, too frightened to speak until now, nodded quickly. "Yes, my lord. She was glowing like the sun. Her magic was... pure, and ancient... And we couldn’t get near her... we even lost a sister to her... and we couldn’t teleport the rest of the rogues out because she created a barrier around the Bloodshade territory."
Lucas’s eyes darkened, and for a moment, his expression softened, it was not calm, but with something sharper, and more knowing. His fingers loosened from the armrest of his throne, his gaze distant, lost somewhere far from the room.
Then his lips parted, and a single name slipped out. "Ember."
The witches exchanged quick glances... Although they did know who the name belonged to, they nodded their heads to his words.
But Lucas wasn’t looking at them anymore. His jaw tightened, his shoulders tensed, and a faint smirk tugged at his lips. "So," he murmured, almost to himself, "you finally decided to show yourself."
He pushed himself up from the throne slowly, his height casting a long shadow over the trembling witches. The faint sound of his boots against the marble echoed through the room, each step calm, and deliberate. When he finally stopped, he looked down at them with a quiet, terrifying composure.
"Call the Bone Witch," he said.
One of the witches blinked, startled. "M-my lord?"
Lucas’s head turned sharply, and the weight of his glare made her drop flat to the ground. "Did I stutter?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Call her. Tell her I have something important to discuss."
The witches scrambled to their feet, bowing over and over before fleeing the chamber as fast as they could.
When the doors slammed shut behind them, silence crept back in. Lucas stood motionless for a long moment, his breathing steady but his eyes still burning gold. His claws retracted slowly, but the fury in him didn’t fade.
He turned toward the shattered table and brushed his fingers across the broken wood, the corner of his mouth twitching faintly. "A fae," he whispered again, his tone laced with something dark. "Ember... you finally showed yourself? Wait for me... I’ll come to claim you."
He let out a quiet laugh. The sound echoed faintly through the wrecked courtroom.
Outside, thunder rumbled across the night sky, and Lucas lifted his gaze toward the sound, his eyes glowing brighter. "If the Bloodshade pack thinks this is victory," he murmured, "then they haven’t seen what war really looks like."
He turned back toward his throne, his expression unreadable but his voice steady with intent. "Damon, just wait and see how I’ll claim and mark her in front of you..." he inhaled sharply, his veins popping out. "This is the smell of victory."
As the last torch flickered behind him, he sat down once more, resting his elbow on the broken armrest. His fingers traced the edge absently, his gaze distant, thoughtful.
A thin smile crossed his lips, but there was no warmth in it. "Ember," he whispered again, almost gently, like he was savoring the name. "You’ll be mine at last."
He began whistling, his eyes swept over the bloodied floor. ’Don’t worry I’ll make you the rightful Luna of the Bloodmoon pack... with your help, the reign of the Lycans will come to an end.’ He thought inwardly.