CHAPTER 302: _REMOVE THE PROBLEM

Marcellus’ POV

*****

Ah, you’ve probably been wondering what he’s been doing these past four months.

Well... Nothing.

Literally.

After drowning with uncertainty concerning the moon stone imprint left behind by that hag, Elder Davina, and after trying and failing to find out how to get rid of it... He decided to lie low.

Like, actually laying low and not killing people or constantly manipulating them.

Okay, okay... That’s a joke.

Him? Not killing people for so long?

Come on, that would be a miracle.

Besides, he has an artificial hybrid ritual to feed on life force once in a while. He couldn’t stop killing even if he wanted to... And that was a fat ass "if".

The only difference now was that he stopped taking lives from the Blood Oak pack, instead keeping his sights on other packs and settlements.

And even then he had to be sneaky and extra cautious not to get caught. He put effort into making their deaths seem "natural" or "unfortunate".

Draining their life force and then making it seem like they got infected with a mysterious magical disease of his creation. A freak construction accident. Drowning. Suicide...

He found new creative means to cover his tracks each time.

Meanwhile, back in Blood Oak, he wasn’t much of a good Beta either. He had managed to find his way into Layla’s mind, slowly pulling her into his control.

After four months, it was safe to say he had her completely under his control. So much so that if he told her to jump off a five-storey building, she would without a second thought.

"Look at all these wolves." He muttered with disdain, a small smirk on his face as he watched the people still trooping into the pack for the blood moon festival from the comfort of his balcony.

He was dressed in a sharp black tuxedo and had a red cloth sticking out of the suit pocket. His eyes glowed with a sickly green light as he reached out mentally to Layla.

’Tell me. Did you manage to spike the Delta’s drink like I said?’ he asked her, drumming his fingers on the handrails.

He had sneaked out of the event hall when the Alpha Kings and Luna Queens were about to begin dancing.

No way in hell he’d stay to watch those morons swirling around in their over-the-top gowns and polished suits like it’s some romance novel.

And he was on a mission... A very important one.

’Yes, master. I did.’ Layla responded telepathically, her voice in his head sounding distant and almost emotionless.

She was becoming a husk of her former self the more he encroached on her mind. But oh well...

’Good. Tell me if there are any more updates.’ he said, raising his head and staring at the blood moon, which was currently partially covered by some clouds.

He drew in a deep breath, smirking coldly before teleporting to the ground floor and then walking to his gate.

.

.

He got to the pack’s main gate via cab, not wanting people to recognise one of his cars.

The pack looked festive but also kinda empty since most of the pack members were attending the festival. Those who couldn’t reserve a spot watched it happening live from the comfort of their homes, unaware of the danger looming.

Marcellus stepped out of the cab and made his way to the one-storey building beside the pack’s gate where the new Delta resided.

When he got to the top floor of the manor through the stairs, he knocked once, scanning his gaze around. Pack soldiers from different packs were patrolling the pack, but only a few were at the gate.

Marcellus pushed the door open when he didn’t get any response, stepping into the dimly lit room.

At the other end of the room, he spotted the Delta, a young man in his mid-twenties whom he had personally hand-picked from the pack’s military, as well as the Gamma.

He was vibrant and smarter than the former Delta... Not to mention hotter.

But right now, he was snoring on the floor, a spilt glass of vodka beside him as saliva pooled underneath his face.

"Hello there." Marcellus grinned, scoffing as he walked past him and headed toward a shelf etched into the wall. "Don’t mind if I do..."

He found a keypad interface on the side of the shelf and typed in the password. The shelf suddenly shook before pushing open like a door, leading into a hidden room.

Within the hidden room... A head-sized moonstone floated above a stone altar, pulsing with a bright red light to mirror the blood moon.

Marcellus’ eyes glinted with a cold light as he stepped into the room, instantly feeling the pressuring power of the moon stone.

What was so special about this particular moonstone, you might be wondering?

Well... It was the source of the divine energy shielding the pack gates and walls. It acted like a protective ward, capable of creating a forcefield to block destructive attacks from outside the pack.

And with a boost from high priestess Althea, it could also block teleportation magic or portals, preventing people like Regina from appearing directly into the pack at will.

Point is... It has to go if lord Ryker’s plan for tonight were to proceed.

Just when he was only a few meters away from the stone and stretched his hands forward, he felt a presence, followed by incoming footsteps behind him.

And then...

"Beta Marcellus?" A familiar voice spoke behind him with shock. "You... What are you doing here? What happened to the Delta?"

Marcellus exhaled a slow, bored sigh, turning lazily toward him. The military advisor, Jeremiah.

The man was a wall of muscle in a red suit, his beard as thick as ever — the picture of a loyal soldier.

"Ah, Jeremiah..." Marcellus’ grin stretched thin, wolfish. "You really shouldn’t sneak up on people. Gives me the urge to... Remove the problem."

Before Jeremiah could take a step back, Marcellus blurred forward. His hand clamped around the man’s throat like a vice, lifting him off the ground.

Jeremiah’s boots kicked against the stone floor. Fingers clawed at Marcellus’ wrist, but his grip didn’t budge. His face darkened from red to a choking purple.

Marcellus tilted his head, studying him like a bored cat watching a bird thrash in its claws.

"Strong," he murmured. "But strength is nothing without power."

Then came a sharp twist followed by a wet, brittle crack.

Jeremiah’s head lolled, his body hitting the floor with a hollow thud.

Marcellus crouched, fingers brushing the still-warm skin as he absorbed the life force spilling away. It was intoxicating, burning like fine liquor down his veins.

When he rose again, his eyes locked on the moonstone — blood-bright and pulsing above its altar.

He stepped close, extending his palms. The stone flared in warning, its divine magic lashing at his dark energy like snapping teeth.

He laughed coldly. "You think you can bite me?"

His power coiled around the moonstone like a serpent. The altar groaned. Light cracked through the stone’s surface like veins.

And then — shatter.

A thousand glittering fragments burst outward in a pulse of blood-red light that slammed into Marcellus’ chest, shoving him back. The air changed. The heavy, invisible impenetrable shield over Blood Oak... was gone.

A grin curled his lips. "It’s done."

He vanished from the hidden room, reappearing outside the building and stopping.

Shouts ripped through the air just then.

"Blood!"

"It’s raining blood!"

Marcellus frowned, tilting his head up.

Droplets spattered his cheek, thick and warm. The metallic tang of iron filled his mouth as he licked one from his lip.

It wasn’t just rain. The sky itself bled, the clouds boiling red, the blood moon glaring like an open wound.

A slow, wicked smirk spread across his face.

"Oh... Odessa..." he whispered. "What have you done, little hybrid?"