CHAPTER 50: SILVER EYES BROKEN PROMISES

Charles’ POV

Soon, Alexander started sweating.

His jaw tightened, hands curling slightly like he was fighting his own body.

"You’re just an ordinary Alpha." Louis said, stepping closer.

"It’s cute that you think spending a few days in the military suddenly puts you above a pure-blood."

His smile dropped only a little — almost invisible — but enough to chill the room.

The air grew heavier. Even I felt it.

Louis’ pheromones weren’t loud... they were controlled, coiled like something dangerous holding itself back.

Alexander’s throat bobbed as he swallowed.

For someone who never backed down from anything, he looked... shaken.

"You talk too much for someone who hides behind his family name," Alexander said, voice low but steady.

He squared his shoulders even though his knees looked like they wanted to buckle.

"If being a pure-blood makes you so powerful, why do you need intimidation to prove it?"

Louis’ smile faded entirely.

For a second, silence swallowed the room — the kind that comes before a storm breaks.

Louis tilted his head slightly.

"Intimidation?" he repeated softly.

"No... this is restraint."

Alexander’s fingers twitched like he was resisting the urge to step back.

"Alexander," Louis said, voice barely above a breath — but it vibrated through the air like thunder under water.

"I would have killed you then... but it would hurt him."

Alexander’s spine stiffened.

Louis took one slow step forward.

"I would have killed you when I saw those emotions in your eyes."

His gaze flicked , his eyes on me for the briefest second — possessive, electric.

"Emotions only I should have."

The faint glow in Louis’ eyes brightened, not fully but enough to make the air press in on my chest.

My limbs felt heavy, like gravity had thickened around me.

I couldn’t move.

Louis’ pheromones or his aura — whatever it was — held me in place like invisible chains.

He walked closer, each step quiet, controlled, terrifying in its calmness.

Alexander’s breath hitched, his shoulders trembling just enough to be noticed.

He wasn’t scared for himself — he was scared because Charles was right there, caught between us.

Louis stopped in front of him, close enough that the temperature seemed to shift.

He leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a whisper that crawled down my spine.

"You touched what’s mine."

His eyes glowed a shade brighter.

"And I don’t forgive that."

He stepped forward — unhurried, steady, terrifyingly calm.

My throat tightened.

Louis’ eyes never left mine, glowing softly like embers hidden beneath ash.

"It’ll be okay," he murmured.

A lie or a promise... I couldn’t tell.

His voice wrapped around me, warm and cold at the same time, sinking into my bones.

My vision wavered. The room tilted. My knees weakened as if someone had quietly pulled the ground away from under me.

I tried to take a breath — but it felt thick, heavy, drugged.

The world around me blurred at the edges.

Louis’ silhouette was the last thing I saw clearly.

And then—

Everything went dark.

My consciousness slipped like water through my fingers.

Darkness swallowed everything.

Voices slipped away. The floor vanished. Even the air stopped feeling like something I could breathe.

For a moment, I was floating.

Then—nothing.

No sound.

No pain.

Just blank, heavy silence.

Until warmth.

Fingers—cool at first, then steadily warming—brushed against my cheek. A familiar scent drifted in, soft and sweet, wrapped in something darker underneath. Not like before. Not the Louis I grew up beside.

This Louis smelled like winter wrapped around fire.

I tried to move. My eyelids twitched.

Something in the darkness cracked open.

A voice followed—low, controlled, close to my ear.

"Charles."

My body jolted, or maybe I only imagined it. The darkness felt thick again, but the sound of his voice cut through it.

"You’re safe," Louis murmured.

Safe.

From what?

From who?

From him?

Or from Alexander?

The thought twisted my stomach.

I forced my fingers to twitch, then my hand, then a slow, shaky breath pushed its way into my lungs.

Light pressed against the edges of my vision.

Shapes emerged.

Blurred at first... then clearer.

Louis.

Sitting beside me.

His hair, silver and black and eerie in the low light, fell slightly into his eyes. Eyes that were no longer warm honey—they glowed faintly, like something ancient lived behind them.

When he saw me blink, a smile—soft, genuine for the first time that night—cut across his face.

"There you are," he whispered.

My throat stung as I struggled to speak. "Where... where’s Alexander?"

Louis’ smile didn’t fall.

But it sharpened.

"He’s alive," he said.

That wasn’t the answer I wanted.

Or needed.

My pulse raced, panic clawing its way up my chest. "Louis—what did you do to him?"

Louis lifted a hand.

My breath stilled.

But he didn’t touch me—he just hovered his fingers near my face, as if waiting.

"I saved you," he said quietly. "I always will."

His voice softened even more—dangerously gentle.

"And I removed a threat."

My heart thrashed. "Louis—what did you do?"

His eyes brightened, faintly glowing again.

"Relax," he murmured. "He’s not dead."

A beat.

Just long enough to drown me.

"But he will never lay a hand on you again."

My fingers curled into his shirt, weak but deliberate.

"Alexander hasn’t done anything," I whispered, voice cracking more than I wanted.

"You have. You’re the one who ruined things. I just... I just want to be happy. You have Alistair—why disturb my peace?"

For a heartbeat, Louis went still.

Then he chuckled.

Not the soft, warm laugh I grew up with.

This one rolled out of him like silk over steel—dangerous, amused, sharp.

"Oh, I do have him," Louis said lightly.

"Alistair is exactly where he should be."

He leaned closer, his breath brushing my cheek.

"But you..." his smile widened, "you were never meant to be anywhere except beside me."

My chest tightened.

"That’s not fair," I whispered. "You left. You broke everything. You pushed me away."

His eyes flickered—silver and black swirling like shadows behind glass.

"Yes," he said. "I admit it was a cowardly act."

A soft laugh escaped him—self-deprecating, bitter.

"Unlike me."

His voice dropped, colder.

"I ran. I hid. I let myself fall apart."

He reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Then I thought."

His fingers brushed my jaw—slow, reverent, possessive.

"Then I broke myself. And I rebuilt."

His smile brightened—too bright, too sharp.

"And now—" his hand slid to the back of my neck, thumb stroking lightly, "I want my mate. Only my mate."

My breath caught.

His forehead rested softly against mine, his eyes glowing faintly.

"And I’m done pretending that I don’t."

Louis’ forehead pressed to mine, his breath ghosting over my lips, the warmth of his hand at my neck making it impossible to think straight.

"Louis..." I whispered, my voice thinning.

His fingers curled just a little, guiding me closer — too close.

"I rebuilt myself," he murmured, eyes glinting.

"For you. Only you."

Something in my chest kicked hard.

Something ugly.

Something terrified.

Something angry.

And then—

Something snapped.

I shoved him.

Not hard — I couldn’t move much — but enough.

Louis stepped back a fraction, not from force but surprise.

No one ever pushed him.

Not like that.

"Louis—stop," I said, louder this time.

My pulse was shaking under my skin, but the words kept coming, spilling out like they’d been waiting too long to breathe.

"You don’t get to say things like that," I snapped.

"You don’t get to come here and act like—like you haven’t hurt me. Like you didn’t abandon me. Like you didn’t choose someone else."

His expression faltered.

A crack in the perfect mask.

"I didn’t choose—"

"Yes, you did," I cut in. My voice wavered, but I kept going.

"You had Alistair. You had your life. You didn’t want me. You made that very, very clear."

A flicker of something dark flashed across his eyes — not anger, not malice.

Fear.

"Charles—"

"No!" My voice shook with more emotion than sound.

"You can’t walk in here with silver hair and dead eyes and act like you own me!"

The room vibrated — I didn’t know if it was our pheromones clashing or just my heartbeat slamming in my ears.

"You don’t get to claim me," I breathed, chest tight and burning, "when you gave me up."

Louis’s lips parted — not with a comeback, not with confidence — but with stunned silence.