CHAPTER 183: CUT OFF HIS HEAD(2)

The gasp that tore through the tense air did not come from Harned.

It came from Clara.

It was sharp, almost fragile, yet so unexpected in its timing that it seemed to slice through the heavy, suffocating atmosphere. Her eyes were wide—frozen with disbelief—as though the very act of breathing had been stolen from her. For a heartbeat, she looked as though she had been struck into silence, unable even to form words.

But Jared’s order still hung in the air, and the man he had commanded didn’t dare waste so much as a breath. Without question, he rushed to obey, moving with the kind of urgency born of fear rather than efficiency. His hands worked fast, almost frantic, gathering the dry wood stacked nearby. He struck flint against steel with practiced hands until the first flicker of flame sparked, catching on the bundle.

The fire spread quickly, greedily consuming the kindling until the man held in his grasp a large, blazing piece of wood. The orange flames licked upward, the heat radiating so strongly that those standing closest felt it on their faces.

It was only then that Clara’s voice broke free, shattering the momentary stillness.

"What is this?" she gasped again, louder this time. Her voice carried across the space, trembling with both outrage and disbelief. "Is this a joke?"

Her eyes darted between Jared and Bavira, searching for an explanation that made any kind of sense.

Harned could no longer remain silent. He spoke quickly, his voice rough and edged with desperation, addressing Jared and Clara all at once.

"Please, Alpha! I swear my son is not a monster!" His words came out fast, spilling over one another in his rush. "There’s no way—no way—he could have turned into one!"

He dropped lower, kneeling on one knee, and the dirt clung to his trousers. His chest rose and fell heavily as he spoke, each word weighted with pleading urgency. He explained rapidly, his voice cracking as he recounted all that had happened, compressing it into barely two breaths—enough for Clara to understand the heart of his plea.

Her expression shifted from shock to something quieter, though the disbelief still lingered in her gaze. Yet, instead of pressing Jared further or stepping in to halt the proceedings, Clara’s voice fell silent. Her eyes stayed on Bavira, but no further protest came.

The change in her demeanor hit Harned like a physical blow. His heart seemed to twist painfully in his chest. She wasn’t going to help him.

A gnawing sense of madness began to creep in at the edges of his thoughts. He scrambled to his feet just in time to see Jared step toward his son. The Alpha reached out, taking a blade from the nearest guard with slow deliberation. The steel caught the firelight, glinting ominously.

Bavira, already weakened and bleeding from both arms, dropped to his knees before Jared.

The Alpha moved with lightning speed.

Harned’s instincts screamed. He lunged forward without thinking, his body prepared to throw itself between Jared and his son. But the movement lasted less than a heartbeat before a sudden, crushing weight struck him from all sides. Multiple guards tackled him in perfect unison, dragging him back with practiced efficiency.

"No!" Harned roared, struggling with every ounce of strength he had left. His muscles burned, but the grips holding him were iron-strong.

He could only watch—helpless, pinned—while Jared drove the blade forward. Steel pierced flesh. Bavira’s gasp choked into a guttural sound as the weapon slid through his chest. The young man tried instinctively to scramble backward, but without arms, the effort was pitiful.

Jared did not take his head. He knew better. At such close range, he couldn’t risk triggering an explosion if Bavira truly was the kind of monster he feared.

Blood welled at Bavira’s lips, spilling down his chin in a slow, crimson stream. His body shuddered once, twice, before the strength left him entirely. He collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

Harned’s scream tore free, raw and feral. He fought savagely against the guards’ hold, but the more he thrashed, the tighter they bound him. His grief burned through him like acid, corroding everything in its path.

Bavira was gone. His heart had stopped. Nothing—nothing—would bring him back.

Tears welled in Harned’s eyes and spilled freely down his cheeks, but the pain didn’t stop there. It dug deeper as Jared turned away from the body and gestured toward the man holding the flame.

The order was silent but unmistakable.

The lit torch was placed into Jared’s waiting hand without hesitation. The Alpha gripped it firmly, his expression unreadable.

"DON’T YOU DARE!" Harned’s voice cracked with rage. His throat was already raw from shouting, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t care if his words got him killed here and now.

"MY SON IS NOT A MONSTER!" he roared again, his voice echoing over the silent witnesses around them.

It was bad enough that his son had been cut down in such a brutal, humiliating manner. But now—now—Jared was about to destroy even his remains, to burn him to ash until there was nothing left to bury, nothing to remember him by.

Still pinned, Harned screamed again and again, his voice growing hoarse. "You will not take him from me like this!"

But his cries went unanswered.

The moment Jared lowered the fire to the body, the flames caught almost instantly. Smoke rose in twisting black tendrils, carrying with it the sharp, pungent smell of burning flesh.

Harned’s body went rigid. His heart pounded so hard he thought it might shatter his ribcage.

"HIS BODY IS BURNING!" His voice was almost a howl now. "YOU WERE WRONG!"

The words rang out like a curse. "You killed my son for nothing!"

A ripple passed through those gathered. The words seemed to settle in the air, heavy and inescapable. Faces turned toward the burning body, toward Jared, toward the man’s raw accusation. And the truth was there for all to see—Bavira’s corpse was not changing, not shifting, not doing anything but burning.

Jared himself exhaled slowly, a long, deep sigh that carried no relief. His eyes narrowed, his expression hardening with thought.

Perhaps... perhaps he had been wrong.

The body was burning exactly as a normal werewolf’s—or even a human’s—would. There was no monstrous transformation here, nothing like the hideous change he had witnessed in Zyren’s hall.

’Maybe I was wrong,’ he admitted to himself, but the thought brought no comfort. If anything, it deepened the unease curling through his mind. If Bavira was truly innocent, then suspicion would spread unchecked. And if there was no clear way to tell who could become such a monster, then no one could be trusted.

’Maybe this is for the best,’ he thought darkly. ’If the monster can take human form... then there’s only one way to make sure. We’ll wipe them all out. No loopholes.’

The cruelty of the thought didn’t faze him. He turned, ready to leave, silent and cold.

But then—

His eyes froze on the corpse.

Harned’s screams faltered into confused silence as his own gaze followed Jared’s. The Alpha’s eyes widened—once, then twice their usual size.

The head.

The head of the burning body... was changing.

The skin began to split and stretch unnaturally, the familiar features warping into something unrecognizable, something that could not possibly be human—or werewolf—or vampire.

And in that moment, every single person present realized the nightmare was not over.