Page 187 of Moonlit Fate

“Nobody is undefeatable,” I argued, but the only response was the rustling leaves as Jehad retreated into the dense forest, leaving me alone with my rebellious thoughts. I wanted to stay and work with the stone longer but had to make my retreat. With a lingering gaze, I began my trek on foot, allowing the steady rhythm of my steps to prepare myself for what lay ahead.

The forest thinned out, and I could feel the change. Every step took me deeper into my father’s territory, deeper into the Crimson Fang lands. He had his claws sunk into this place. I stepped lightly, but it was no use. There were sentries everywhere, tucked away in every dark nook and cranny of the land.

“Atticus.” One nodded as I passed. No smile, just recognition, a warning wrapped up in a single word.

“Keep sharp,” I replied. It was their job to guard this place, to keep out intruders. To keep me in, maybe.

The path wound on, and the woods gave way to open space. The alpha house loomed ahead, its dark stone cutting a harsh silhouette against the gray sky. Spikes reached out like talons, clawing at the clouds. This was home, if you could call it that.

I pushed the front door open. Its hinges creaked as it labored to keep the heavy oak doors open. Inside, luxury choked every corner. Gold and velvet covered every surface—my father’s excessive taste showing off his wealth and power.

“Back so soon?” The voice boomed down from the staircase. Caius, ever present, ever watching.

“Got what I needed,” I said, keeping my posture relaxed but ready. Every instinct told me to turn and run, but this was part of the deal. My part.

“Good,” he said, a grin curling his lips. “We have much to discuss.”

“Can’t wait,” I muttered as I headed to the stairs, wondering how long before I could slip away into the shadows again.

I pushed through the door to my quarters. The room was too perfect, untouched by time or presence, a showroom meant to impress rather than comfort. I stepped inside, the scent of old wood and lingering polish a stark contrast to the fresh earthiness of the forest I’d left behind.

I eyed the grandeur with a mix of disdain and suspicion. How long had this cage been waiting for me? The bed was too large, the windows too grand, offering a view of lands that were no longer mine. Each piece of furniture was a shackle, ornate and cold to the touch.

The tapestries on the walls depicted wolves in various states of hunting and rest, their threads shimmering darkly. My gaze settled on one—a lone wolf staring back at me, its expression a mirror of my own feelings. This wasn’t home. Home was a den in the woods, humble but filled with genuine laughter and love.

A growl escaped me, low and involuntary. My thoughts turned to Aria. Was she safe? What had I done, binding myself to this place, to my father’s ambitions? The plush carpet beneath my boots mocked me, a reminder of every luxury I didn’t ask for, every freedom I’d traded away.

Restless, I paced. The shadows called to me, promising an escape, a fleeting visit to her side. Then heat flared on my skin, my tattoo searing with a familiar urgency. Caius needed me.

“Fuck,” I hissed, the walls closing in. Just like that, the shadows retreated, leaving me exposed. My hand brushed against the ink, the burn receding.

With a last look at the room, I turned my back on the gilded prison and strode toward the inevitability waiting beyond its doors.

I walked up to the dais where my father stood, his grin cold as the winter moon. “How did you find the welcome ceremony?” he asked.

“Cut to the chase. What do you want?”

His smile never wavered. “I need you to take care of Larkin. His usefulness has expired.”

I froze. “You want him dead?”

He nodded.

“If I refuse?” The words left my mouth, but the conviction in them was as thin as ice on a late winter pond.

“If you refuse, you’ll see the consequences of breaking our tie. You’ll die.”

The burn in my arm flared up, each mark branding me anew.

“I agreed to be your heir, I never agreed to murder for you,” I said through gritted teeth. The pain was getting harder to ignore.

“Didn’t you, though? When you agreed to submit to me.” His tone suggested that my compliance was never an option. It was a statement, not a question.

The door creaked open. “You called, sir?”

Larkin stepped inside, looking from one of us to the other—looking for approval or a task to jump at. His anxiety was palpable, but so was his desire to please.

Caius nodded at Larkin, then stared at me. Expectation bore down on me. Gritting my teeth, I extended my hand, calling on the shadows that clung to the corners of the room. They responded like loyal hounds, coiling around my arm and reaching toward Larkin.

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