Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 301: Not Over Yet

Chapter 301: Not Over Yet

Eldur’s POV

Margaret stood at the edge of the barrier like a phantom made flesh—black hair like ink, eyes the color of stormy skies. She raised her hands, palms forward, magic already crackling between her fingers. Her lips moved in a silent chant, and her power pulsed outward like a tidal wave trying to shatter the blue dome Elizabeth had cast over Beauty Valley.

I watched from the ridge.

I felt the pressure build in the air, thick as a heartbeat held too long. Her magic was dark—twisted. Hungry. It clawed at the barrier with desperation, as though trying to drag us all into her madness.

But Elizabeth’s spell held firm.

A deep hum resonated from the earth, rising in answer. The barrier shimmered, resisting the corruption with light that pulsed like breath.

Margaret hissed, recoiling as if burned.

"Nice try," I murmured, smirking. "But Elizabeth doesn’t bend for vampires with abandonment issues."

Behind me, footsteps approached, light and steady.

Adrian. My father.

His face was tight with anger, though he wore it like a polished blade—controlled, cold. Beside him stood Uncle Lucian and Auntie Teresa, their armor gleaming under the bruised morning sky. Uncle Lucian felt that Margaret didn’t deserve to see his wolf form. Liam, already shifted into his smaller Omega form, padded forward beside Mai and Ollie, both still looking furious.

My mother stopped at my side, her eyes locked on the barrier. For a second, I saw her jaw clench and unclench like she was holding herself back from lunging forward.

"I want nothing more than to rip her limb from limb for touching our family," she said, voice low and even. "But Nova... she’s my priority now."

I turned to her slowly, something twisting in my chest. Juliette, the Gamma of Gammas, the fearless warrior—choosing to stay behind for Nova. For me.

She placed a hand on my cheek. "Make her regret ever looking at the Daegons sideways, Eldur. I mean it."

I nodded, then leaned in and pressed my forehead against hers briefly. No words needed. She already knew.

With that, we turned.

We walked.

Across the boundary. Through the flickering light of the barrier. Into the battlefield waiting outside Beauty Valley.

The air beyond the barrier was colder, sharper—as if the trees themselves were holding their breath. Her coven stood like shadows with fangs, forty of them, cloaked in black, silent and still.

And at the center of it all—Margaret. Tall. Impossibly pale. Dressed in blood-red silk that dragged across the grass like a warning.

Her eyes landed on my father. And she smiled.

My father took one slow step forward. The fury in his expression was unlike anything I’d ever seen—not wild or unhinged, but ancient. Cold. It made the hairs on my neck rise.

"You dare show your face," he said, voice like breaking glass. "After all you’ve done?"

Margaret tilted her head. "I’ve been looking for you for a long time, Adrian."

"Not long enough," he muttered.

"When I finally found you," she continued, ignoring his tone, "I saw you had built something... beautiful." Her voice cracked slightly. "A mate. A son. Peace. All after what you did to me."

A gust of wind rattled through the trees.

"You ruined my life, Adrian," she whispered. "Centuries ago. You turned me. I was to be married. I had a great life. And then you happened. Do you know what it’s like? The thirst?" Her voice deepened, trembling now. "I killed them. My parents. My siblings. With my own hands. And you got to walk away and start again."

He stepped forward slowly, eyes never leaving hers. "You think I don’t remember? You think I don’t carry it?"

Margaret laughed bitterly.

Dad’s voice stayed low, steady. "I loved you. But you let that love rot. You chose darkness again and again. I tried to save you—and all you did was make me regret ever trying."

Her jaw clenched. "Then regret this."

She turned sharply, gaze flicking toward me.

"You care about that human girl, don’t you?" she said with venom. "Nova?"

I stiffened.

She smiled like a dagger.

"I hexed one of my vampires. Turned your daughter-in-law without her consent. Like you did to me. A fitting punishment."

Dad’s hands tightened into fists. I could feel the air change around him—still cool, but charged. He was close to losing his legendary calm.

"You’re a madwoman," he said, finally. "You don’t deserve peace. Not after what you’ve done. And guess what? He didn’t succeed."

Margaret’s eyes went wide—genuinely startled—and for half a second, she froze. Then her mouth opened again, probably gearing up to unleash another monologue about how the universe somehow owed her redemption after the chaos she chose to rain down on everyone else.

But I wasn’t having it.

I’d hit my limit.

Heat surged through my arm as a fireball spun into existence in my palm. In one smooth motion, I launched it straight at her. No hesitation. No warning.

It hit her square in the side, making her stumble back with a sharp, furious snarl.

She barely flinched. No real damage.

But the look on her face? That split-second of disbelief?

Totally worth it.

"Eldur," my father said, his voice low—a warning laced in concern.

I didn’t even look his way. "No," I said, stepping forward, my voice like gravel dragged through flame. "I’m done listening. She laid a hand on Nova. She came after my family. That makes this personal. This is my war now."

Margaret turned toward me, her pale grey eyes flickering, uncertain for the first time. "I’m not here for you, boy."

I let out a laugh—sharp, bitter, bone-dry. "Oh, you are now. You just don’t realize it yet."

She scowled, trying to reclaim control. "Your father’s the one I want. You’ll get your turn."

That was it. That was the last line.

I summoned another fireball—twice as large, pulsing with heat—and hurled it with everything I had.

"No more turns!" I shouted, the heat roaring in my throat. "No more talking!"

And then—chaos.

The ground shuddered as Uncle Lucian charged like a war god, his twin blades humming with ancient runes, slicing the air before him.

Ollie let out a bone-deep howl, shifting mid-leap into his full beast form, claws flashing as he dropped like vengeance from above.

Mai didn’t hesitate—she slammed into two vampires with the force of a battering ram, and Liam darted at her side, all speed and fangs, surgical in his brutality.

Auntie Teresa raised her hand and the sky answered—lightning coiling around her fingers as the wind roared to life.

And my dad?

He didn’t even blink.

One second he was at my side, the next he blinked into the heart of their forces, moving like a ghost with a blade older than kingdoms. He cut down two of Margaret’s guards in a blur of silver and red.

And me?

I wasn’t just casting fire anymore.

I was flame.

Alive, wild, unstoppable.

Not a boy. Not a wolf. Not even a wizard.

I was rage wrapped in fire.

Aethros snarled inside me, his voice a storm in my skull. "Burn her, Eldur. Show her what pain feels like."

I moved without thinking, blazing through the battlefield, each step igniting the grass beneath me.

A vampire lunged.

I incinerated him before he touched me.

Another tried to strike from behind—I spun, caught his neck, whispered, "Wrong choice," and snapped it like a twig.

I spotted Margaret again—backed into a corner, barely holding her ground. One hand flung curses like daggers, the other parried Lucian’s relentless blade. Her once-flawless dress was in shreds, her hair a tangled storm of rage and desperation.

And for the first time...I saw it.

Fear.

She caught sight of me—eyes narrowing, calculating, but she was too late.

"You think fire scares me?" she spat, her voice laced with venom.

I grinned, slow and sharp. "No. But I do."

I surged forward, flames licking up my arms like armor.

She caught the first blast—barely.

The second slammed into her shield, splintering it like glass.

The third?

It cut through.

She screamed as it hit, a raw, guttural sound. The blast hurled her across the clearing, her body crashing hard into the earth.

I didn’t stop.

I walked toward her—every step a promise, fire still coiling around me like a living thing. My chest heaved. My heart thundered. But all I could see was her.

She lay there gasping, smoke curling off her ruined dress, coughing hard as she tried to rise.

I stood over her, shadows flickering across my face, silver eyes glowing like twin stars.

"You made one mistake," I said, my voice low.

Her lips quivered. "What?"

"You came for my mate."

And that was it.

Aethros roared inside me—ancient, furious, mine. I opened the floodgates.

Every ember, every ounce of rage and grief and love—I unleashed it all.

The sky erupted in flame.

And when it cleared—

She was gone.

Vanished.

Coward.

Silence fell like ash over the battlefield. Vampires either fled into the trees or littered the ground, unmoving.

Dad stood beside Lucian, both covered in blood and ash but still standing—still strong. Still very angry.

Mai sat holding Liam in her arms, whispering to him as he leaned into her, bruised but alive.

Ollie collapsed onto the grass, panting, half-covered in soot. He pulled out a granola bar from God-knows-where and took a bite.

And me?

I dropped to my knees.

Not from pain. Not from exhaustion.

From anger.

She wasn’t going to get away that easily and besides, I need her dead to break the hex she casted on Nova.

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