Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 130: Results of Deceit

Chapter 130: Results of Deceit

ADRIAN’S P.O.V.

The room was suffocatingly silent as I continued. The flickering firelight played over their faces, painting shadows of disbelief, horror and sadness. I drew a deep breath, my tone deliberately even, though the memory of that night clawed at my chest like it was fresh.

"I was blinded by rage," I began, my voice low and deliberate. "Rage at Margaret’s words, rage at the witches for what they had done to me in the past, and rage at myself for the scars I carried that still ached centuries later. I didn’t think—I acted. My coven and I descended on the witches’ sanctuary with one goal: annihilation."

Lucian leaned forward slightly, his unseeing eyes fixed on me. It was unnerving how he could focus so intensely despite his blindness. "You didn’t hold back, did you?" he asked, his tone dry but his face taut with understanding.

I allowed myself a grim smile. "No. I didn’t. I laid waste to the entire coven. Every adult witch met their end by my hand. The screams, the blood, the destruction... it was merciless. I didn’t stop until the sanctuary was a smoldering ruin. The only ones spared were the witches’ children."

Teresa’s hand flew to her mouth. "The children. They must have been so scared," she whispered, her voice trembling.

I nodded, my throat tightening. "Even in my rage, I couldn’t bring myself to harm them. They were innocents, caught in a war they didn’t understand. But Margaret... she had other priorities."

Juliette’s eyes narrowed. "What priorities?"

I hesitated, the memory sharp and cruel. "As I tore through the coven, Margaret wasn’t by my side. She was inside the sanctuary, questioning the witches. She kept demanding to know where the ’girl’ was. At the time, I didn’t understand who she meant or what she was searching for. But her obsession... it should’ve been my first clue."

Lucian’s lip curled, his voice cutting through the tension. "You didn’t suspect anything? Not even then?"

"No," I admitted, the shame evident in my tone. "I was too consumed by my own hatred to see her deceit. It wasn’t until everyone was dead—everyone except Nancy, the high priestess, and the children—that the truth began to unravel."

Leonard, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, broke in, his usual smirk absent. "What truth?"

I met his gaze, my voice as cold as the grave. "Harry came to me, frantic. He told me that he and the rest of the coven had searched the sanctuary, every room, every hidden passage. There were no stolen children. Nothing. Just the witches and their own offspring."

The room collectively sucked in a breath.

"And Nancy?" Juliette asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

I sighed, the weight of Nancy’s words still heavy on my soul. "I demanded she tell me where the stolen children were hidden. I was ready to rip the truth from her if I had to."

Teresa flinched, her hand gripping the edge of her chair. "And what did she say?"

"She swore on her life that there were no stolen children. That her coven had stopped that practice a long time ago. She insisted firmly that her coven had done nothing wrong," I replied, my voice tight. "I didn’t want to believe her. I couldn’t. But her heartbeat didn’t falter, and her eyes... they were filled with terror, not guilt. She was telling the truth."

Lucian’s brows furrowed. "Then why did Margaret claim otherwise?"

"Nancy explained everything," I said, my tone dark. "Margaret had been asking them for a specific child—a witch whose power surpassed all others. The coven had told her repeatedly that no such child existed, but she refused to believe them. When they wouldn’t hand over what she wanted, she decided to destroy them. And since she couldn’t do it alone..." My voice faltered, and I clenched my fists. "She manipulated me into doing it for her."

The room was deathly silent. Even Leonard, usually so flippant, looked stunned.

"I confronted Margaret," I continued, my voice thick with emotion. "I didn’t want to believe Nancy’s words, even though I knew in my heart they were true. When I found her, she was in the witches’ hall. She had gathered all the children there, interrogating them one by one. But none of them could give her the answer she wanted."

"And then?" Juliette prompted, her voice barely audible.

My hands trembled slightly, and I pressed them against my thighs to steady them. "When she didn’t get what she wanted, she set the entire hall on fire."

"What?" Teresa gasped, her face pale.

I closed my eyes, the memory searing. "I heard their screams before I saw the flames. By the time I reached the hall, it was an inferno. Children... so many children... They were trapped inside, their tiny voices crying out for help."

Juliette’s hand flew to her chest, her eyes wide with horror. "Adrian..."

"I rushed in," I said, my voice shaking. "I tried to save them. But the flames were too fast, too fierce. I managed to save one child. Just one. The rest... 2,340 children... turned to ash before my very eyes."

Leonard, uncharacteristically pale, whispered, "And Margaret?"

"She was gone," I said bitterly. "Vanished into the night like the coward she was. I was left with the screams of those children and the weight of what I had done."

The room was suffused with a suffocating silence, each of them grappling with the enormity of what I had said.

"What happened to the child you saved?" Lucian finally asked, his voice rough.

I hesitated, my gaze dropping to the floor. "Her name... is Elizabeth."

Gasps echoed around the room, the name striking a chord with everyone.

"Elizabeth?" Juliette repeated, her voice trembling.

"Yes," I said, my voice thick with emotion. "The same Elizabeth you all know. She has lived with me for centuries. And just like me, Elizabeth carries the weight of that night every single day."

No one spoke. The gravity of my confession settled heavily in the room, leaving no space for words.

Teresa was the first to break the silence, her voice fierce despite the tears in her eyes. "Adrian... I don’t even know what to say. You didn’t deserve to be used like that. Those children didn’t deserve what happened to them. None of it was your fault."

"Wasn’t it?" I asked bitterly, my gaze fixed on the flickering flames. "I was the one who brought destruction to their sanctuary. I was the one who trusted Margaret."

Juliette reached for my hand, her grip firm. "You were deceived, Adrian. Margaret played you, but that doesn’t make you responsible for her actions."

Lucian’s voice, rough and sardonic, broke through the tension. "And here I thought my love life was complicated."

Despite myself, a faint smile tugged at my lips. Leave it to Lucian to find humor in the darkest of moments.

Leonard, ever the clown, added, "I mean, let’s be honest—Adrian’s got a flair for the dramatic. Fire, betrayal, tragic backstory... you’re like a walking soap opera."

I chuckled, the sound carrying a trace of bitterness. "Glad to know my misery is entertaining for you, Leonard."

His grin widened, unapologetic. "What else are friends good for?"

The room softened, the oppressive tension thinning as humor broke through the cracks. But the shadows of the past still clung to the edges, heavy and unshakable. And the truth was, my story with Margaret? It didn’t end that night—not even close.

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