CHAPTER 261: _CONVENIENT

Lucian’s POV

*****

"That Arcadia has a hand in the Dark Hand. No pun intended."

Silence came after he said those words to the Arcadian council representatives. Five powerful witches who could only utilise holographic projections to show up in his throne room.

Not like he wanted them anywhere near here now that his suspicions soared.

Elian stiffened beside him after he let those words out. The air chilled.

And then—

"Your words are bold and reckless, Alpha Prince." The woman standing in front of the other council representatives sniggered in response. "I do hope you aren’t making accusations without evidence. We don’t need to tell you how detrimental that’ll be to our... Alliance."

Lucian nearly laughed at that last word.

Alliance?

"Lunaria and Arcadia have never been allies," Lucian grunted, tapping his fingers on the armrests of his thrones. "Maybe neighbours who learnt to tolerate each other."

"Whatever you choose to call it." A man with a tall figure under a green robe spoke up. "Do you really want to break the peace between our nations with this accusation?"

"Your father wouldn’t have led with such arrogance." Another said with a scowl.

"You can’t just—"

"I didn’t just throw that accusation for fun, council members." Lucian didn’t let their words get into his head.

On a normal day, they probably would’ve struck a chord. Not today. Not with Elian sitting beside him, fingers brushing against his gently on the armrest.

Lucian had underestimated just how much of a safe space his mate was becoming.

"Today... Literally less than an hour ago, my mate and I got attacked by Dark Hand officials." He went on, eyes scanning the holographic faces of the witches. "Amongst those soldiers, five were witches. One in particular was able to open portals which allowed their escape."

His breathing became hasty after saying all that. But he’d gotten his point across.

Partly at least.

"My father was killed by a Dark Hand curse." His jaw tightened while he fought hard to bury the emotions attached to those words. "A fucking curse. Tell me, councillors... Do wolves cast curses now?"

No response. Of course, they had no freaking response.

Eventually, the woman in the middle cleared her throat. "Wolves were part of the attack. Were they not?"

"If I may, councillors..." Elian suddenly blurted for the first time since this conversation started.

All eyes turned to him, including Lucian’s. He shrank, his cheeks reddening slightly. But he was far from backing down.

"I-I recall a witch attacking me, Lucian and the Princess. Right here in the Lunarian palace." Elian continued, his voice stuttering a bit. "A month ago. He was also a Dark Hand spy."

He turned his eyes to Lucian who gave him an approving nod. "And just yesterday, a magically linked prying spell was tracked to one of the palace paintings. Not to mention the woman in a black cloak who appeared as a raven—"

"All I hear right now are reports of Dark Hand attacks." The woman in the middle interrupted sharply. "Wolves work with this organisation as well as witches. It’s not enough to prove Arcadia has anything to do with it."

Lucian’s jaw flexed. "Not enough," he echoed, voice dropping an octave. "Then maybe answer this—why has your High Matron not been present for meetings like this all these decades?"

The temperature in the throne room didn’t just drop; it plunged.

The five holograms stiffened as though he’d slapped each of them in turn.

"Lucian..." Elian whispered beside him. A warning and a reminder that this was a diplomatic talk, not a battlefield.

But Lucian was done dancing around anyone’s ego. Especially not Arcadia’s.

He leaned back on his throne, looking like he could tear the illusions apart with his claws alone.

"I might be young, but I’ve lived long enough to know that when a nation’s leadership goes quiet, it’s either strategic..." He tilted his head. "...Or corrupt."

Gasps erupted from the council representatives. One of the male witches—thin lips, hollow cheeks—actually stepped back even though he was nothing but a projection.

"You dare speak about her with suspicion?" He snapped. "The High Matron is above your petty wolf politics—"

"And yet she’s never here," Lucian shot back instantly. "Never present. Never seen. Never accounted for. Only whispers, illusions, and excuses." He raised a brow. "Tell me again how that’s not convenient?"

"You insult our sovereign!" the youngest amongst the witches barked.

Lucian scoffed. "I’m pointing out what the other nations on this continent already whisper behind closed doors."

"That’s blasphemy," the lead witch hissed. "The High Matron’s existence is sacred."

"And suspicious," Lucian countered.

A collective murmur rose among them—disbelief, outrage, disbelief again.

Elian inhaled sharply. He didn’t interrupt this time. He simply watched, wide-eyed and pale, as if the truth Lucian was pushing out matched something he himself had quietly feared.

The woman at the centre finally lifted her chin, lips tight. "Alpha Prince... you tread dangerous ground."

Lucian smirked. "Oh, but I always do."

Before she could fire back, the witch on the far right suddenly went still. Her eyes glazed over as she lifted trembling fingers to her temple.

The others immediately noticed.

"What is it?" the lead witch asked.

The woman blinked fast, pupils dilating. "A... telepathic message." Her tone changed into something urgent. "...Something happened."

Lucian tensed, instantly curious. "Where?"

The witch hesitated, then said, "Silverpine Wilderness."

The words skidded across the air like a blade.

Elian flinched so visibly that Lucian’s heart nearly stopped.

Silverpine Wilderness.

Lucian didn’t know much about Evaros’ geography, but he knew Silverpine was a land in Arcadia bordering the Dark Lands.

He leaned slightly toward Elian without breaking eye contact with the holograms. "Silverpine?" he whispered.

Elian swallowed hard, voice trembling. "It’s... close. Too close. Right near the border separating Gravethorn city from—"

He didn’t finish, but Lucian didn’t need him to.

Shit.

Something had definitely happened.

"Council members," Lucian called out sharply, "what exactly occurred there?"

The woman lowered her hand from her forehead, shielding her expression carefully. "We do not know enough yet."

"That wasn’t an answer," Lucian growled.

"It is all we will give you," one of the male witches snapped back. "Your accusations have no evidence. Tread lightly, Alpha Prince, unless you want to incite a conflict the continent is in no state to endure."

Lucian narrowed his eyes. "So that’s it? Deflect and run?"

"We have given you caution," the female lead witch said coldly. "Whether you heed it or not is no longer our concern."

And with that, the holograms blinked out.

Silence crashed into the room like a tidal wave, leaving nothing but the echo of their escape and the chill of something being terribly, horribly wrong.

Lucian cursed under his breath. "Cowards."

But his anger froze when he heard a gasp beside him.

"Lucian—" Elian breathed. "Look."

Lucian turned just in time to see the ruby necklace—Kyren’s necklace, the one Elian kept tucked beneath his shirt—pulse with a sudden, violent flare of crimson light.

Almost like a heartbeat.

Elian’s hand flew to his chest, clutching the jewel. "It’s—"

The light spread across his fingers like liquid fire.

Elian’s breath hitched, eyes widening like he heard something. "Kyren?"

Lucian shot up from his throne, every instinct going sharp. "What is it? What do you hear?"

Elian didn’t answer.

He was too busy holding onto the necklace like it was the last piece of the universe he trusted. "Kyren," he whispered again. "He’s... he’s calling me." His voice cracked. "Lucian, I can hear him."

A chill bolted down Lucian’s spine. "Is he hurt?"

"I don’t know—" Elian’s breathing grew erratic. "It’s faint. Like he’s far. Or drained. Or—" He shook his head violently. "No, no, no, the connection’s going out—Kyren!"

The light flickered then died faster than it came.

Elian stumbled out of his throne but Lucian caught him instantly, holding him up with one arm while the other grabbed the communication ring on Elian’s finger.

"Try calling him," Lucian demanded. "See if his ID pings."

Elian tried—over and over—voice cracking as he whispered Kyren’s name.

But the ring stayed dark.

Lucian swore. "Something happened in Silverpine. That message wasn’t random."

Elian looked up at him with pure desperation. "Lucian, we have to find him. Now. Please." His voice trembled with trepidation. "It’s Kyren. I felt him. He’s alive but something’s wrong. We need to move. You know we do."

Lucian clenched his jaw. "Elian, if this is a trap—"

"Then we fight our way out," Elian snapped. "But I’m not sitting here while he’s hurt. Not when he reached for me. Not when Arcadia just conveniently got a telepathic alert from the exact territory that borders his homeland." His breaths shook. "Lucian... please. Don’t make me beg."

Lucian’s resolve cracked like ice.

He couldn’t leave Elian alone. He couldn’t send him into Arcadian territory without him.

And he sure as hell couldn’t ignore Kyren’s voice reaching across gods knew what distance.

Finally, he exhaled sharply. "Fine."

Elian blinked. "Fine?"

"We’ll go." Lucian’s tone turned dangerous. "We’ll go to Arcadia. But we go in secret. No escorts or soldiers. Just us."

Relief flooded Elian’s features so strongly that Lucian felt it like a punch to his own chest.

"Thank you..." Elian whispered.

Lucian stepped closer, hand cupping the back of his mate’s neck. "I’m not letting yon walk into danger alone," he murmured. "You’re mine. And Kyren is... complicated, but he’s connected to you. Which means he matters."

Elian nodded, clutching the necklace close again.

"When do we leave?" he asked.

Lucian turned to the throne room doors first before fixing his gaze to the glass dome above. The late morning sunlight still shone brightly.

"As soon as the moon rises."

A storm gathered behind his eyes.

"We’re going to find out what happened in Silverpine Wilderness," Lucian said slowly. "And whoever touched Kyren?"

He bared his teeth.

"They’re going to regret it."