Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the Lycan King

Chapter 26: Shadows and Regrets

The waiting was always the worst part.

The Blackwood estate, once a place of elegance and moonlit gardens, had transformed into a fortress. The ground floor windows were boarded up with reinforced steel shutters. Thermal sensors were maximized on the perimeter grid. Every able-bodied wolf was armed, their patrols overlapping in a tight mesh of surveillance.

The atmosphere was thick with the scent of ozone and fear. It tasted metallic on my tongue.

Marcus was on the northern ridge, personally overseeing the artillery setup. He had banned me from the perimeter, citing my "safety" again, his voice brooking no argument. We'd had a blazing row about it in the hallway—him terrified of losing me, me terrified of being useless. I'd eventually conceded, not because I agreed, but because I saw the desperation in his eyes. He needed to focus on command, not on worrying if I was dodging bullets.

So I found myself walking down the damp stone steps to the holding cells underneath the east wing.

The air here was cooler, smelling of mold and ancient earth. The guard at the heavy iron door hesitated when he saw me. "Luna, the Alpha gave strict orders—no visitors for the prisoner."

"The Alpha is busy preparing for war," I said, channeling every ounce of my Royal authority. I stood straighter, letting a flicker of silver light dance in my irises. "And I need to interrogate the prisoner for intel. Open the door, Lieutenant."

He swallowed hard, his eyes widening at the display of power. "Yes, Luna."

He punched a code into the keypad and the heavy lock clicked open.

Damien was sitting on the narrow cot in the dim cell. He held his head in his hands, his posture one of utter defeat. He looked up when the door creaked, scrambling to his feet when he saw me.

"Emma." He sounded breathless, disbelieving. "I didn't think you'd come."

"I needed to know if there's anything else, Damien. Any other surprises Ares has waiting for us."

I stood on the other side of the laser-grid bars, arms crossed tightly over my chest. My heart was pounding, a chaotic rhythm against my ribs. It wasn't love—that had died on the stage at the Luna Ceremony—but the ghost of the pain he'd caused still haunted me. Seeing him like this, in a cage, was surreal.

"I told Marcus everything," Damien said, stepping closer to the barrier. The red light of the laser grid illuminated the dark circles under his eyes. "The witches, the path, the numbers. He has about three hundred wolves. Modified, like the ones you fought."

"Modified how?" I pressed. "Biology? Magic?"

"Both. Dark magic infused into their blood." He shuddered. "They feel no pain. They don't fear death. They're berserkers. When one falls, they don't mourn; they just climb over the body." He gripped the bars, his knuckles white. "Emma, you have to get out of here. Marcus is strong, he's the strongest Alpha I've ever seen, but his pack... they're not ready for this. Not for magic."

"We're not running," I said coldly. "We fight for our home. That's what a pack does."

Damien let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "You sound just like a Queen. I was so blind. I looked at you for years and saw only what my father told me to see."

He looked at me then, really looked at me, with a mixture of sorrow and longing that made my chest ache. It was the look of a man who realized he had thrown away a diamond because he thought it was glass.

"Do you know why I did it? Why I rejected you?"

"Because I was weak," I recited the words that had haunted my nightmares for weeks. "Because the pack needed strength. Because an Omega couldn't lead."

"No," he whispered. "Because I was weak."

I stared at him, stunned.

"My father... before he died, he drilled it into me," Damien continued, his voice trembling. "He said, 'Strength is everything. Softness gets you killed. An Omega will ruin you.' When I felt the bond with you... I was terrified. I loved you, Emma. I've always loved you, since we were kids running in the creek. But I was afraid that loving you would make me a weak Alpha. That the pack would see me as soft."

Tears pricked my eyes, hot and sudden. I blinked them away furiously. "So you broke me instead. To prove you were strong."

"Yes. And in doing so, I broke myself." He reached through the bars, his hand hovering inches from my arm, afraid to touch. "I don't expect forgiveness. I don't deserve it. But I need you to know... seeing you now, so powerful, so radiant... it's the only thing that gives me hope. You proved him wrong. You proved me wrong."

"I can't forgive you, Damien," I said softly. The anger was still there, but the hate... the hate was fading into pity. "Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I believe you want to help."

"I do. More than anything." He dropped his hand. "Let me fight. Give me a weapon, put me on the front line. Use me as bait, I don't care. I'd rather die defending you than rot in this cell while you're in danger."

I looked at him—the boy who had been my best friend, the man who had destroyed me, and now the warrior offering his life as penance.

"I'll ask Marcus," I said, turning to leave. It was a lie, or maybe a half-truth. Marcus would never agree.

"Emma?"

I paused at the heavy door.

"He loves you," Damien said, his voice cracking. "I saw it in his eyes in the war room. He looks at you like you're the sun and he's just orbiting you. Don't... don't let him make the same mistake I did."

"What mistake?"

"Don't let him push you away to 'protect' you. Don't let him stifle your light because he's afraid of you getting hurt. That's fear, not love."

I froze. Damien was right. Marcus was trying to sideline me, lock me in a tower, all out of love. But it was the same suffocating box Damien's father had built for him.

"I won't," I promised.

Boom.

The ground shook violently, throwing me into the wall. Dust rained down from the ceiling like gray snow. The lights flickered and died, replaced by the emergency red strobes.

Boom. Boom.

The alarms began to shriek—a high, piercing wail that signaled a perimeter breach.

"It's started," Damien shouted, grabbing the bars. "They're early! They didn't wait for moonrise! Emma, go!"

I didn't look back. I sprinted up the stairs, taking them two at a time, shifting mid-stride as I burst into the hallway. My clothes ripped, replaced by silver fur.

The sun was still up, dipping toward the horizon but burning bright. They hadn't waited for the cover of darkness.

As I burst out into the courtyard, I saw the western ridge.

It wasn't wolves. It was fire.

Purple flames, unnatural and terrifying, were engulfing the defensive line. They moved against the wind, climbing the stone walls like living vines. Inside the fire, shadows moved.

The witches were here. And they had brought hell with them.