BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 143: THE MUCH NEEDED DISTRACTION

Chapter 143: THE MUCH NEEDED DISTRACTION

{"The future depends on what you do today." }

AURORA’S POV

The scent of old magic and candle smoke hung thick in the air, curling in the dim light of the council chamber. Nessa and I stood just inside the arched doorway, our presence a disruption, a fracture in the quiet authority that had reigned here for centuries.

My gaze flicked to the grandest chair at the head of the council hall, Lord Marcel’s throne. It was empty. Desmond and Idris Marcel were present, and the other council members—our parents, Aggrey, Armon, and the rest—remained still and silent, watching us with unreadable expressions.

I let the weight of their stares settle before breaking the hush. "Where are the rest of the council members? |

Desmond’s cold blue eyes locked onto mine. He was the elder of the two brothers, sharp-jawed and dressed in the dark finery of old vampire nobility. "What do you need, Aurora Jade?"

I smirked, stepping forward. "I am here to see Lord Marcel?"

Nessa’s golden gaze flickered across the room. Then her head tilted, and she demanded, "Where is Lord Marcel?"

A muscle in Desmond’s jaw tightened. "Unavailable."

I crossed my arms. "That’s not an answer."

I shifted my stance, letting my voice drop into something colder. "Let me rephrase that. Where is Lord Marcel? We have some news for him."

Desmond, however, remained stone. "Give us the message that you need to tell him, and we shall pass the message that you need."

I laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Are you sure?"

Then, with a slow inhale, I finally said it. "I assume you all got the message about Frery?"

A flicker of movement, Byron shifting in his seat, Desmond’s fingers tightening ever so slightly on the armrest. Nessa exhaled sharply beside me, crossing her arms. "You did get the message, didn’t you?"

It was Desmond who broke the silence, his voice low and careful. "We received it."

I nodded once. "Good. Then let me say it plainly so there’s no room for confusion—Frery and I are over. It’s done." The words felt strange on my tongue, unfamiliar, like they belonged to someone else. But they were true.

Desmond tilted his head, the candlelight catching the sharp edges of his face. "And you came all this way to tell us that?"

I met his gaze without flinching. "I came to make sure there were no... misunderstandings."

A short chuckle, dark and amused. "Misunderstandings?" Desmond leaned back, folding his hands together. "You make it sound as though this council had a stake in your love life."

I smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Don’t insult my intelligence, Desmond. We both know Frery and I weren’t just Frery and I to some of you. Whatever games were in motion? Whatever expectations you had?" I let my gaze sweep over each of them, slow and deliberate. "Consider them irrelevant now."

More silence. More flickering candlelight. More glances were exchanged in the dimness of the chamber. Byron, always the quieter one, finally spoke. "And you’re certain there’s no reconciliation?"

I tilted my head. "Did I stutter?"

Nessa let out a quiet breath, amused as Desmond studied me, and for the first time, I saw something almost like curiosity in his eyes. "So, it’s truly over."

Then, Nessa spoke. "Aurora and I are each other’s vampire life mates."

The room stilled, and for a moment, I thought even the candles had stopped flickering, as if the very flames had been caught in the shock that now settled over the council like a heavy fog.

Silence. Sharp, breathless, absolute silence marred the coven council hall. I let it stretch, let the stunned expressions settle into my memory, because gods, this was a moment worth savoring.

Desmond, for once in his insufferable existence, was speechless. Byron looked as if someone had just shattered his entire understanding of reality. The other council members? They didn’t even blink, too frozen in place to form a reaction.

But then, a movement. A shift of fabric, a chuckle, and I turned just in time to catch Aggrey and Armon exchanging knowing smiles. Of course, our parents had always known. A warmth spread through my chest, something light, something certain. They had been waiting for this moment. And now that it was here, they were the only ones in the room who didn’t look like the foundation of the coven had just cracked beneath them.

I exhaled slowly, turning my gaze back to Nessa. She stood firm, golden eyes unwavering, her posture radiating certainty. She had said it. Out loud. To the council. To the ones who would never have expected it. And she had done so without hesitation. Pride—raw and undeniable- swelled in my chest. I reached for her hand, lacing my fingers with hers, letting the truth of her words settle into my bones.

Desmond finally found his voice, though it came out rougher than usual. "Well. That’s... unexpected."

I smirked. "You keep saying that."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "You’re not even denying it?"

"Why would I?" My voice was steady, carrying through the chamber with ease. "It’s the truth."

Byron let out a slow breath, still looking like he was processing. "This is a serious claim."

Nessa turned her gaze to him, her voice cool. "Why would it be a serious claim? Aurora and I have the right to be together."

Aggrey let out a chuckle, leaning back in his chair. "Exactly"

Armon nodded, expression unreadable but eyes gleaming with something close to approval. "And I, for one, couldn’t be happier."

The tension in the room didn’t vanish, but it shifted, and the much-needed distraction that we needed had been accomplished. I turned back to Nessa, giving her fingers a small squeeze. She had claimed this. Claimed me. And there wasn’t a single part of me that wanted to take it back.

Desmond leaned back in his seat, arms crossed, his expression a careful mask of neutrality. But I could see it; beneath the composed façade, gears were turning, calculations being made. He was already thinking ahead, already deciding how this revelation would shift the council’s carefully woven politics.

"Lord Marcel will be informed of this development as soon as possible," he said smoothly. "But for today, he is unavailable to be seen."

I gave a single nod, not surprised in the least. Lord Marcel was never truly absent—only watching from a distance, waiting to make his move when it suited him best.

"Understood," I said simply.

I could feel Nessa beside me, her presence steady, her warmth grounding. This was only the beginning. There would be whispers, questions, maybe even consequences. But we had spoken our truth, and that was enough. For now. Then I shifted my stance, tilting my head slightly as I looked back at Desmond. "However," I continued, my voice calm but firm, "there’s another message that needs to be relayed to Lord Marcel."

Desmond’s brow lifted. "What now?"

"From Frery Kayne."

The reaction was immediate. Every single council member Byron, Aggrey, Armon, even Desmond himself- leaned forward, their focus sharpening like the edge of a well-honed blade. The air in the chamber grew heavier, charged with sudden interest, and the flickering candlelight cast sharp shadows over their expectant faces.

I smirked slightly, and I let the silence stretch for just a moment longer, letting their anticipation settle. Then, with slow precision, I took a step forward. "Frery Kayne asked me to tell Lord Marcel that he knows someone sent the Vampire army to Hanka Island to capture and attack him."

"What?" Aggrey and Armon’s voices rang through the chamber in unison, their shock breaking the tense silence like a blade slicing through cloth. Their normally composed expressions twisted into something raw: surprise, disbelief, maybe even a flicker of concern.

Instead, I let my gaze sweep over the council, taking in their reactions. Idris had gone still, his knuckles white where they gripped the armrests of his chair. Desmond, ever the one to mask his emotions, raised a brow, but I could see the way his fingers twitched slightly, betraying the thoughts racing through his mind. I lifted my chin, my voice steady and clear. "Frery Kayne asked if Lord Marcel wanted him dead," I said. "And if he did—then he would not hesitate to take on Lord Marcel himself."

Silence crashed over the room like a tidal wave, and even the candle flames seemed to flicker in response, their glow casting jagged shadows against the stone walls. Armon’s mouth opened slightly as if he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Aggrey exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face, eyes narrowing as he processed what I had just said.

Desmond, however, simply leaned forward, resting his elbows on the grand oak table before him. His smirk was gone now, replaced by something sharper, something dangerous.

"Frery said that?" His voice was quiet, but the weight behind it was unmistakable.

I nodded once. "He did."

Then, Desmond chuckled. A low, amused sound, completely at odds with the tension in the room. "Well," he mused, tilting his head. "That’s bold of him."

"That’s reckless of him," Byron countered, his voice cold.

Aggrey leaned forward, eyes dark with unreadable emotion. "Did he say why?"

I met his gaze, unflinching. "Because he wanted to know where he stood. He wanted to know if Lord Marcel saw him as an enemy." I paused. "And if the answer was yes, then Frery had no intention of waiting for a blade in the dark."

Byron let out a slow breath, shaking his head. "This is a dangerous game he’s playing, does he not respect Lord Marcel?"

Desmond studied me for a long moment, then sat back, thoughtful. "Lord Marcel will want to hear about this," he murmured.