BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 129: THE LAST CALL OF ALTHEA GALE

Chapter 129: THE LAST CALL OF ALTHEA GALE

"The last breath of a hero is the hardest thing to bear." }

TOR’S POV

"We need to get to the caves before sunrise," I growled, dodging a low-hanging branch. The night air was thick with salt and the sharp tang of approaching rain. My muscles burned as I tore through the dense underbrush, my senses heightened, my focus locked on the shadowed path ahead. Behind me, Commander Flora and her mate, Rita, matched my pace, their breaths steady, their presence reassuring.

Flora barely glanced at me; her wolf instincts honed to the mission. "Althea Gale survived the last purge," she said, voice tight. "If she’s still in those caves, she knows how to handle this."

Althea Gale. My grandmother’s sister. The last true guardian of Hanka Island. They said she had chosen exile, but Rou had told me that it wasn’t exile, it was duty. She had protected Hanka Island for decades, watching over the dark forces beneath its soil. And now, it was our turn to find her. Rita, ever the cautious one, kept close, her golden eyes scanning the forest. "I can already sense her close by."

The truth sat like lead in my chest. Althea had hidden for us and kept us protected even though she was hurt while protecting Hanka Island. The sound of waves crashing against the cliffs grew louder as we neared the coastline. Mist curled at the edges of the trees, creeping like fingers toward us as if the island itself knew what we sought.

Flora suddenly grabbed my arm, pulling me to a stop. "Tor, look."

I turned sharply, and there, nestled between the rocks, was the entrance to the cave, barely visible beneath the twisting vines and jagged stone. And standing at its mouth, draped in a tattered cloak, was the woman we had come for. Althea Gale. Her silver eyes met mine, unreadable, her face worn but strong.

"You’re late," she rasped, and then Flora and Rita rushed to her side and held her. I moved closer and whispered, "Let me carry her."

They handed her to me, and I held her as we moved towards Hanka Island. An hour later, we arrived,and the moment my boots struck the damp earth, the ground shuddered beneath us, a deep, guttural tremor that sent waves rippling through the sand and cracked the earth in thin, jagged lines.

Rita gasped, stumbling back. Flora unsheathed her blade, her stance immediately defensive. "What the hell was that?"

But before I could answer, a low, raspy chuckle vibrated against my chest. Althea. Her silver eyes, though dim with exhaustion, gleamed with something ancient, something knowing. "Hanka Island knows you, Alpha Tor," she murmured, her voice no louder than the rolling tide. "It welcomes you. I am happy to have lived long enough to witness this moment."

The words sent a strange energy thrumming through my veins, as the very air around us had shifted. My wolf bristled beneath my skin, sensing something primal, something far older than me, than my pack, than anything I’d ever encountered. Then, just as suddenly as she spoke, Althea’s body went limp. "No," I snarled, my grip tightening around her fragile frame. "Althea, stay with me!"

But her head lolled against my chest, her breath shallow, too shallow. She’s slipping!" Rita cried, already at my side, pressing two fingers against Althea’s neck. "Her pulse is weak—damn it, we need to move!"

I didn’t hesitate and ran like a madman as the wind howled through the trees, and I tore through the dense jungle, the scent of wet earth and ancient magic thick in my lungs. The Haven Cave wasn’t far, but with every second that passed, Althea’s warmth faded against me.

"Hold on," I growled, pushing my legs harder and faster as the cold picked up through the mountain pass, carrying with it a biting chill as snowflakes swirled around us. The climb had been brutal, the storm intensifying with every step, but as we neared the entrance to the Haven Cave, something shifted. The clouds that had smothered the cave’s entrance parted, dissolving like mist before the morning sun. A deep, guttural groan echoed through the mountains as the stone walls trembled, and then, before our eyes, the rocks split apart, revealing the dark, gaping mouth of the cave.

Rita exhaled sharply. "That’s... unnatural."

Flora tightened her grip on her blade but said nothing.

I didn’t stop to question it. Althea’s body was still slack in my arms, her breathing barely there. I pushed forward, stepping over the threshold. The warmth inside was immediate—a stark contrast to the icy winds outside. At the heart of the cave, the sizzling pond lay, steam curling off its shimmering surface, casting eerie shadows along the jagged walls.

I knelt, carefully placing Althea onto the heated ground.

"Rita, Flora," I barked. They were at my side in an instant, their hands moving to steady Althea’s trembling form. Rita pressed her palm against Althea’s forehead, worrying about creasing her brow. "She’s burning up."

"She’s alive," Flora murmured, her gaze flicking to me. "But we need to act fast."

I nodded, but something was wrong. The scent hit me first, familiar, intoxicating, overwhelming. My pulse slammed against my ribs as my eyes darted across the cave, searching, hunting. And then I saw him. Across the pond, motionless against the smooth stone, lay a figure.

No. Not just any figure. My mate Frery Kayne. The breath in my lungs vanished. I surged to my feet, my body moving before my mind could catch up. The world narrowed to a single point, to the sight of him lying there, still as death.

I barely felt the ground beneath me as I rushed to him. Ferry Kayne lay motionless on the other side of the pond, his dark hair damp against the cold stone, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths. My heart pounded, my instincts screaming at me to move faster, to reach him before it was too late.

I dropped to my knees beside him, my hands gripping his shoulders. "Frery," I growled, shaking him. "Wake up!"

For a moment, nothing. Then, his eyes snapped open, and a sharp inhale left my lips. They weren’t the rich, stormy blue I remembered. They were red, deep, burning crimson, glowing with an unnatural hunger.

"Tor..." His voice was hoarse and cracked, but the way he said my name sent a shiver through my body.

Before I could react, his fangs extended, long, sharp, deadly.

Then he lunged. A sharp sting bloomed at my neck as his fangs sank deep, piercing my skin. The heat of his mouth, the pull of his bite, sent a jolt straight through me. My body locked up, my mind screaming to push him away, to fight, but instead, a guttural roar ripped from my throat.

Not in pain but in pleasure. The bond between us flared to life, raw and electrifying, surging through every nerve in my body. I clenched my jaw, my fingers digging into his arms as I fought for control, but my wolf, my very soul, surrendered to the sensation. His grip tightened, his body pressing against mine as he fed, his breath warm against my skin. I exhaled sharply, eyes fluttering shut for half a second, lost in the dizzying pull of him. With a sharp inhale, I forced my eyes open, fighting past the haze clouding my senses. I wasn’t alone.

Rita and Flora stood frozen, wide-eyed, their expressions a mix of shock and something unreadable. And somewhere in the depths of the pond, Gerod must have been watching. I growled low in my throat, gripping Frery’s shoulders tighter. "Enough," I rasped." We are not alone. "

Frery Kayne’s grip on me was unyielding, his breath warm against my skin as he whispered, "Tor, you are finally here."

His tongue flicked over the fresh bite, sealing the wounds, the sensation sending a shiver down my spine. I clenched my jaw, grounding myself in the moment, fighting the way my body wanted to lean into him, to surrender to the bond that burned between us.

"We have urgent matters to handle," I said, forcing my voice to steady.

Frery exhaled a soft chuckle, but something shifted in his expression. His hand found mine, and his brows furrowed as his gaze darkened with concern, but I sensed that something was utterly wrong with him. I barely had time to ask him before a guttural growl cut through the cave.

Althea. We all turned. The air around her warped, twisting with tendrils of inky darkness that slithered from her ears, her eyes tainting the very air around her. The scent was thick, acrid, unnatural. The markings of dark magic. A hiss of steam erupted from the pond, and from its bubbling depths, Gerod emerged. Water clung to his pale skin, his eyes glowing eerily in the dim light. "She is infected with the evil magic."

His voice rang with finality, cutting through the stunned silence that followed. I watched as Flora’s jaw slackened, and Rita took a sharp step back, her breath caught in her throat. "What the hell?" she whispered, shaking her head, eyes wide with disbelief.

And behind them, a vampire guard stood frozen, his entire body rigid with shock. Althea let out another low, guttural sound, her back arching as the dark tendrils thickened, curling like living shadows around her frail body.

My chest tightened." Who is that?" I pointed at the guard behind Flora and Rita

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