Chapter 69: Chapter 69: Slowly Losing themsleves

Alpha Blackthorn’s face sank, the shadows on his features deepening until his expression carried the weight of both anger and dread.

"It has to do with you too, Alpha Aeron," he said, his voice dropping into something cold and deliberate. "Today it is my son... tomorrow it will be yours. If we don’t act now, it will be us who are hunted. These witches think they can toy with us, take from us, and walk away without fear—someone needs to remind them of their place. I will find Kellan. And when I do, we—all of us—will have to come together to teach them a lesson they will never forget."

His hands curled into fists on the polished surface between them. "Do not forget, Alpha Aeron—because of these witches, our entire kind suffers. We can’t find our mates. Not one of the new generation has been able to... even my own son..." His voice cracked with restrained frustration. "If this continues, the werewolf race itself will..."

"Enough."

The word was a whipcrack, sharp enough to slice through the air. Aeron’s gaze, cold and cutting, locked onto him with sudden precision. "Shut up, Alpha Blackthorn. Get out of my sight... before I decide to take measures of my own."

The word "mate" was already triggering for him, but the man in front of him had made it even worse.

But the older Alpha didn’t rise. His jaw tightened, defiance flickering in his eyes. He couldn’t go back empty-handed—not while Kellan was still in enemy hands. "Aeron... you don’t understand. I can’t walk out of here without..."

Another presence shifted in the room, heavy and deliberate. A shadow moved behind him, and a firm hand landed on his shoulder—not a gesture of comfort, but of quiet threat.

"If you can’t move," a voice drawled near his ear, "should I personally escort you back?"

The older Alpha’s expression faltered, his shoulders stiffening as he turned just enough to see who stood behind him.

smirk was as sharp as

the stiffness in his voice failing to

over his shoulder. "We will have

his warning hanging in the air like

clicked shut when Aeron’s gaze slid to Luca, his eyes

one who appeared half

that bastard dies or not, Luca, it has nothing to do with us. Let Blackthorn cry to the winds if

how much they’ve ruined themselves. Instead of facing their own filth, they point their fingers at someone else. Maybe it’s the Moon Goddess herself who refuses to grant them

sharp amusement from earlier fading into something heavier. He lowered his voice. "Brother... I don’t care about anyone else. I only care about her." His jaw tightened. "I’ve heard witches can trace someone’s existence. If we can talk to the witch—if we can

a quiet ache, one

year has passed," Luca went on, his voice edged with both hope and pain.

table, forgotten. His eyes shadowed,

His mate. Their mate.

pity on them—granting them what most wolves would die for—they had lost her. And not because fate was cruel, but because

was left was the hollow ache of regret... and the knowledge that somewhere in this vast, unforgiving

world outside still whispered about the Dusk Draven alphas as if they were untouchable—ruthless, invincible, the kind of power that could make lesser

knew the

since she was gone had been

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