CHAPTER 69: CHAPTER 69: SLOWLY LOSING THEMSLEVES

Alpha Blackthorn’s face sank, the shadows on his features deepening until his expression carried the weight of both anger and dread.

"It has to do with you too, Alpha Aeron," he said, his voice dropping into something cold and deliberate. "Today it is my son... tomorrow it will be yours. If we don’t act now, it will be us who are hunted. These witches think they can toy with us, take from us, and walk away without fear—someone needs to remind them of their place. I will find Kellan. And when I do, we—all of us—will have to come together to teach them a lesson they will never forget."

His hands curled into fists on the polished surface between them. "Do not forget, Alpha Aeron—because of these witches, our entire kind suffers. We can’t find our mates. Not one of the new generation has been able to... even my own son..." His voice cracked with restrained frustration. "If this continues, the werewolf race itself will..."

"Enough."

The word was a whipcrack, sharp enough to slice through the air. Aeron’s gaze, cold and cutting, locked onto him with sudden precision. "Shut up, Alpha Blackthorn. Get out of my sight... before I decide to take measures of my own."

The word "mate" was already triggering for him, but the man in front of him had made it even worse.

But the older Alpha didn’t rise. His jaw tightened, defiance flickering in his eyes. He couldn’t go back empty-handed—not while Kellan was still in enemy hands. "Aeron... you don’t understand. I can’t walk out of here without..."

Another presence shifted in the room, heavy and deliberate. A shadow moved behind him, and a firm hand landed on his shoulder—not a gesture of comfort, but of quiet threat.

"If you can’t move," a voice drawled near his ear, "should I personally escort you back?"

The older Alpha’s expression faltered, his shoulders stiffening as he turned just enough to see who stood behind him.

Luca’s smirk was as sharp as a blade.

"I... I’m going," Alpha Blackthorn muttered, the stiffness in his voice failing to hide his unease.

He pushed away from the table, but even as he strode toward the door, he tossed one last line over his shoulder. "We will have to do something about these witches, Aeron... or the entire werewolf race will face ruin."

The door shut behind him, leaving his warning hanging in the air like a curse.

The door had barely clicked shut when Aeron’s gaze slid to Luca, his eyes dark in the lamplight.

"This," Luca said without preamble, "is the doing of that new witch. The one who appeared half a year ago. She’s the one who took Kellan, Alpha Blackthorn’s son."

Aeron didn’t flinch. He leaned back in his chair, the faintest curve of disdain tugging at his lips. "Whether that bastard dies or not, Luca, it has nothing to do with us. Let Blackthorn cry to the winds if he wants."

"And as for blaming witches for not finding their mates—bullshit." His voice was cold and clipped. "They should see how far they’ve fallen, how much they’ve ruined themselves. Instead of facing their own filth, they point their fingers at someone else. Maybe it’s the Moon Goddess herself who refuses to grant them mates... and I wouldn’t blame her."

Luca’s expression shifted, the sharp amusement from earlier fading into something heavier. He lowered his voice. "Brother... I don’t care about anyone else. I only care about her." His jaw tightened. "I’ve heard witches can trace someone’s existence. If we can talk to the witch—if we can get her help—it might lead us to Selene."

His words carried a quiet ache, one Aeron rarely heard from him.

"A year has passed," Luca went on, his voice edged with both hope and pain. "A year without a single trace from her. After she disappeared..."

That sentence stopped Aeron cold. The paper in his hand slipped onto the table, forgotten. His eyes shadowed, the weight of an old grief pressing into every line of his face.

His mate. Their mate.

Even when the Moon Goddess had taken pity on them—granting them what most wolves would die for—they had lost her. And not because fate was cruel, but because of their own foolishness, their own pride.

Now, all that was left was the hollow ache of regret... and the knowledge that somewhere in this vast, unforgiving world, she was out there without them.

The world outside still whispered about the Dusk Draven alphas as if they were untouchable—ruthless, invincible, the kind of power that could make lesser packs bow without a single drop of blood spilled. But that was the world’s illusion.

Only they knew the truth.

Every day since she was gone had been a slow, steady unraveling.

Aeron’s wolf, once a controlled force, now prowled beneath his skin with restless fury, snapping at his control. There were nights he could barely shift back without tearing something apart.

The scent of strangers made his hackles rise, and even the slightest challenge from another alpha sent his blood boiling faster than it should.

Luca wasn’t any better. His wolf had begun to grow silent for long stretches, the kind of silence that felt like it was waiting... or dying. And when it did stir, it was violent—wild-eyed, snarling at anyone who came too close, even pack members.

The mate bond, once a golden thread between their souls, was now nothing but a frayed, invisible wound. The longer it stayed severed, the more it festered.

They hadn’t just lost her.

They were losing themselves.

"Do you know what it’s like," Luca said quietly, eyes fixed on the floor, "to wake every day and expect the scent of her to be the first thing you breathe in... And instead, all you smell is nothing?" His hands flexed against his knees. "To feel your wolf clawing at you because it can’t find her, because it’s half-mad with needing her?"

Aeron didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. The tightness in his jaw and the way his fingers dug into the armrest spoke enough.

"It’s been a year, Aeron," Luca said, the words raw. "A year of this... And I don’t know how much longer before the wolves we have inside us stop listening to us altogether. And when that happens..." He gave a short, humorless laugh. "Even the great Dusk Draven alphas won’t be anything but feral beasts."

Aeron’s gaze darkened. The thought had haunted him too many times, waking one day to find the man gone and only the wolf remaining, beyond reason, beyond control. Then they would truly become the real monster.

And all because the Moon Goddess had given them the one thing every wolf lived for... only to let them destroy it with their own hands.