Chapter 40
Gregory
The iron tongue of the village bell tolled with a hollow, discordant note that reverberated through my bones.
The chaotic clamor dragged every soul in Mossfen from their hearths, summoning them into the square beneath a sun that had lost its fire.
It sat high above, yet its rays touched our skin without warming it.
Harren had wasted no time. As soon as he delivered his warning at the forge, breathless and flanked by the northern wolf, he had activated the communication stone embedded in his bracer.
The news had gone out before I even sheathed the blade I had summoned.
Now, we waited in the center of the village square, surrounded by a sea of anxious faces.
Evan squeezed my hand hard enough to blanch his knuckles, his nervous eyes flickering over the pair beside us.
To our left, Harren stood with his shoulders hunched, avoiding the crowd’s scrutiny.
Nicolai loomed next to him, still wearing his travel cape and hood.
He hadn’t even tried to hide the strong, territorial scent coming from him.
Pine needles and wet earth rolled off him, and a suffocating blanket of pheromones coated Harren, marking the guard as property.
Villagers wrinkled their noses at the claim. They studied Harren with a mixture of confusion and suspicion. No one had been brave enough to ask questions as to why the young guard returned with the wolf-blooded alpha, or how they had gotten past the wards unnoticed.
My inner beast paced at the aggressive display, bristling at another predator’s challenge so close to my mate.
My lip twitched, itching to bare fangs against the wolf’s arrogance, yet a darker truth silenced the urge.
I had sworn to protect these people, to be their shield against the world.
But if they turned that judgment on Evan, the protector in me would die, and only the Unholy Alpha would remain.
Evan tapped my arm. He clutched his heart, bunching the fabric of his tunic. “Do you think… The Conduit Harren mentioned… the one with red hair. Do you think it’s my mother?”
I peeled his fingers from his tunic and kissed his knuckles. Soot stained his cheek, and a dark mark on his pale skin made him seem delicate, but determination hardened his green eyes.
“I don’t know.” A cold knot clenched my stomach. I wanted to lie. I wanted to say no. Anything to spare him hope. If it were her, she’d be leading an army against us, whether intentionally or not. If it wasn’t her, it would break his heart. “But you already believe it is.”
“I feel it. It has to be her.”
“Then we will save her,” I vowed. “If she’s there, we will bring her back.” Evan exhaled shakily, his posture dropping as he likely fought to suppress his mounting dread. His focus snapped to the platform where the Elders were assembling.
“Lyra,” he whispered. “She asked about Harren… at the shop. I didn’t tell her. She doesn’t know he’s an omega. She doesn’t know that the wolf is his mate.”
“There is nothing we can do about that now.” I kept my tone low. “Lyra is strong. She will handle the truth, whatever it is.”
I kissed his knuckles once more to calm him, but the thud-thud of wood on stone silenced the square.
Genevieve held court at the base of the gathering spot.
She raised her cane and struck it down again.
The ground rumbled, and a pillar of dark rock rose from the cobblestones, forming a dais above the assembly.
William took his spot at the edge, his usual arrogance gone, replaced by a grim expression.
Adam was at his side, with the other Elders nearby.
Lyra stood apart from them, close to Alaric, staring at the crowd with wide, confused eyes.
Evan’s palm grew sweaty in mine as Genevieve spoke.
“Children of Mossfen!” Her words projected effortlessly, amplified by the earth magic humming beneath her feet.
“We reunite once more, but this occasion carries no joy. The time has come to protect our brothers, our sisters, and our children.” She paused, her gaze sweeping over the upturned faces.
“The date we feared has arrived. We must fight to protect those who seek refuge in our arms. The Empire is on the way.”
Gasps rippled through the square, and for a moment, only stunned silence reigned. Shouts of denial rang out—an accusation cut through the din, venomous and loud. “The Elder knows who they want! Why should we bleed for strangers?”
Genevieve struck her cane down again with a loud crack, silencing the throng. William moved to the center of the platform, his silver doublet dull in the gray afternoon. “Harren.” William pointed a finger at the guard. “Step forward. Tell them what you witnessed.”
Harren flinched, then stumbled toward the dais, head hunched forward and eyes fixed on the ground.
“I was in Crowedge,” he said, but his words fractured.
He cleared his throat, forcing himself to speak.
“A guard from Oakgon arrived… warning us. But he was too late. The Empire was already there.” He swallowed hard, staring at the cobblestones.
“They didn’t march. They didn’t ride. A Conduit opened a portal, and they poured through it.
Oakgon, Crowedge, and Riverbend are gone.
Destroyed. And they are coming here next. ”
The villagers erupted into chaos, everyone shouting at once.
“How did you escape?”
“Who is the cloaked man with you?”
“Is he a shadow mage? Is he with the Empire?”
Questions came at Harren from all sides. He shrank back in surrender, overwhelmed by the sudden hostility from the people he had sworn to protect. His shoulders sagged, and he let his arms drop to his sides.
“He is my mate!” Harren finally shouted, the confession tearing from him. “Nicolai is my mate! I am an omega, and he saved me! He saved me twice!”
Silence fell over the square, but the judgment pressed in, making my skin crawl. The villagers watched, shock etched on their faces.
On the rock platform, Lyra moved to the edge.
She stared down at Harren with an expression I’d never seen on her before.
The kindness had vanished from her face, and her silver eyes flickered with dangerous energy.
Her gaze slammed into mine, then Evan’s, and a single tear traced down her face amid her indignation.
Evan dug his nails into my forearm as a sob built in his chest. “I hid it from her, Gregory. I knew, and I didn’t tell her.”
I reached for him, but a harsh laugh cut us off. “You pathetic fools.”
Nicolai threw his head back, laughter ringing off the village walls.
He stepped forward, placing himself in front of Harren, shielding him from the villagers’ glares.
“I could have taken him far from here,” the wolf-alpha sneered, curling his lip.
“I should have let you all perish and rot. But he insisted. He begged me to warn you.” He spat on the cobblestones.
“And this is how you repay him? With this disgusting mockery?”
His disdain shredded my restraint. He spoke the truth, yet his rage was a lit torch tossed into a hayloft.
The villagers were already trembling, and he drove them toward a frenzy rather than calm.
I had no measure of a wolf-blooded alpha’s true strength, but the lethal tension building in his stance made it clear he would slaughter anyone in reach without a second thought.
I lowered my head to Evan’s level, letting him breathe in my sandalwood to settle his nerves. “Don’t move.”
I released his hand and walked forward, putting myself between the crowd and the wolf. I was done hiding. The restraint I’d kept for five years was gone.
Heat poured off me, and black scales paved over my arms and neck.
Smoke drifted from my nostrils with each breath, and a hot glow built deep within me.
Pressure built at my temples as horns pushed through, curving back from my skull.
For five years, I had made myself small.
I had swallowed the fire to keep them from seeing the beast the Empire made me.
Now, I had to break that control to keep them alive.
I braced myself for their screams, expecting the same hatred Alaric held.
Standing in front of Nicolai, I let a draconic rumble shake the earth. “Stand down, runt.”
Nicolai grabbed his cloak and threw it back, showing his inked torso. “You didn’t say you could do a half-assed transformation, failed Dragon Lord,” he taunted, grinning wildly.
A bone snapped. Then another. Nicolai’s body contorted, his jaw stretching forward with a wet crack.
Fur burst through his skin—midnight and tawny gold—as his spine realigned with a sickening crunch.
He rose to his full height on powerful, hocked legs, a hybrid beast of nightmare.
Within moments, he towered over the gathered Mossfen villagers.
Purple eyes glowed with manic intensity, drool dripped from jagged fangs, and his claws lengthened into scythes.
The crowd screamed, scrambling back from the monstrosity, but I refused to yield.
My frame expanded to meet the threat, bones groaning as my shoulders broadened and my spine lengthened.
My tunic split down the back, and my trousers tore at the thighs as muscle and scale rapidly outgrew them.
I swelled, becoming a massive, bipedal wall of heat and obsidian scale that shielded them from the predator.
“There’s no need to terrorize them,” I snarled at Nicolai, magma dripping from my fingers and hissing against the ground. “They’re under my protection. And I won’t let you hurt them.”
We stood locked in a stalemate, the distance between us charged with lethal intent. Violence and restraint balanced on a blade’s edge. Our half-shifted forms froze the crowd into a terrified paralysis.