BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 152: KAYNE STONE POWERS

Chapter 152: KAYNE STONE POWERS

{"Whosoever is delighted in solitude is either a wild beast or an evil creature or a god"}

The Rogourau breathing was ragged, its golden eyes locked onto me with something between hatred and recognition. Every instinct I had screamed at me to step back, to put as much distance as possible between myself and the beast that could rip through steel like parchment.

But I didn’t move. I couldn’t. Something in the air shifted sharp, electric, like the very mountain was holding its breath. My chest tightened as a strange warmth pulsed against my ribs. Then, without warning, the Kayne Stone at my neck lit up. A deep, unnatural glow spilled beneath my shirt, seeping through the fabric like molten silver. The second it flared to life, the Rogourau’s entire body seized.

Then it screamed as the chains rattled violently, the beast thrashed, claws tearing at the stone floor, and fangs bared in a wild snarl. The sound that tore from its throat wasn’t just fury, it was agony. Raw, unfiltered pain.

"Freyr, what the hell did you just do?" Dante’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and frantic.

"I don’t fucking know!" I gasped, staggering back as the glow intensified. My heartbeat pounded in my ears, almost drowning out the Rogourau howls. The stone was burning now, heat spreading from my chest to my fingertips like wildfire.

The Rogourau eyes snapped wide, locked onto the light. It lunged, muscles straining against its glowing chains, its snarls turning frantic. "Freyr, move!" Dante’s hand grabbed my arm, yanking me back just as the beast’s claws raked the air where I’d been standing a second before. Sparks flew as the chains held, barely.

The cavern shook with the force of its rage, and I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to smother the light, to stop whatever was happening, but the Kayne Stone only burned brighter. The Rogourau howls turned almost... desperate.

Dante stared at the scene, his usual sharp wit lost in shock.

"That stone," he murmured, eyes darting between me and the beast. "It’s not just reacting to the Rogourau..." His gaze darkened. "It’s controlling it."

I looked at him, stunned, and then back at the beast and felt the still-burning stone against my skin.

The Rogourau was losing its mind, and it thrashed against the chains, its snarls turning wild, desperate. Its golden eyes flickered between fury and something else, something fractured, almost like it was fighting itself. The cavern walls trembled under its struggle, dust raining down from above. And the Kayne Stone at my chest was still burning as I gritted my teeth, gripping the glowing pendant, my breath ragged. "What the hell is happening?"

"The stone is cleansing it." Kayne, my beast, responded.

I stiffened. My pulse hammered against my rib, and Dante must’ve seen the way I froze. "Freyr?" He took a step forward, eyes darting between me and the rogue beast. "What is it?"

I swallowed hard. "The Kayne Stone... it’s doing something to the rogourau."

Kayne pushed the words though as steady as the glow pulsing beneath my fingers. "This creature has been tainted. Its minis d twisted, poisoned with dark magic. That is why it rages. That is why it suffers. The stone is undoing the corruption."

I barely heard Dante’s curse over the beast’s snarling. "Cleansing it?" I whispered. "Then why does it look like it’s about to rip itself apart?"

Kayne’s voice remained infuriatingly calm. "Because it does not know what is real anymore. The false master’s hold is breaking. It is in disarray."

I inhaled sharply, eyes locked on the Rogourau’s trembling form. Its snarls were erratic now, not aimed at me, not at Dante—almost like it was fighting something inside itself.

Dante gripped my arm. "Freyr, whatever’s happening, we should be getting the hell away from it."

But Kayne’s voice rang clear in my head. "No. Move closer. It must be fully freed."

The beast let out a choked, shuddering breath, its entire frame shaking against the glowing chains. Its claws scraped the ground, but there was hesitation in its movements now, like it didn’t know whether to lash out or collapse.

Dante saw the shift, too. "Freyr," he warned. "Don’t you dare."

I stepped forward as the Kayne Stone pulsed, its glow spilling over my hands, up my arms, wrapping me in something ancient, something powerful. The heat wasn’t painful anymore. It was steady. Commanding. Like it knew what needed to be done.

The Rogourau let out a strangled snarl, but its movements were slowing. The wild thrashing turned into shudders, its claws twitching against the stone floor. Its eyes, once blazing with blind fury, flickered, confused, caught between rage and something else.

I felt the magic rise, a force surging from the stone like a tide pulling back. Threads of light unraveled from my chest, twisting through the air, wrapping around the beast’s chains. The runes binding it flared violently, resisting, then snapped.

A gust of unseen energy burst outward. The cavern walls shook. The rogourau’s body seized, its breath hitched, then the darkness around it peeled away. Something black, smoky, and wrong bled out of the creature’s fur, clawing at the air like dying shadows. The beast arched its back, jaws parting in a silent snarl as the corruption was ripped from it. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.

The rogourau sagged against the stone, its massive chest heaving. The violent glow in its eyes flickered then faded, revealing something clearer, something... aware. The beast exhaled, slow and shaky, and then it stared at me. Not with mindless fury. Not with the rage of a cursed thing.

But with shock and awe. It didn’t move. Didn’t snarl. Didn’t try to lunge. It just watched me, as if seeing something it had never expected to see, as if I had become something impossible. The rogourau let out a slow, shuddering breath. Its massive frame trembled, muscles flexing as if testing the absence of its chains. Then, with a low growl, it shook its head as though trying to clear the lingering fog from its mind.

Dante and I stood frozen, watching in stunned silence. The beast’s golden eyes flickered—wild, confused, then sharp with sudden clarity. Its claws curled against the stone floor before something in its body language shifted.

And then... it shifted, and we barely had time to react. The massive form of the rogourau began to contract, its thick fur receding, bones twisting, reshaping with sickening precision. A low, guttural sound half snarl, half sigh rumbled from its throat as its form shrank, the monstrous figure shedding away like a second skin.

Then, where the beast had stood, a man remained. Tall. Broad-shouldered. His breathing was labored, but his stance was firm, powerful, even after all he had just endured. His long, dark hair was tangled, his skin marred with scars and remnants of the wounds the Kayne Stone had purged. But it was his eyes that struck me the most, molten gold, the same piercing gaze as before, only now filled with something deeper as my breath caught.

The man stood there like the weight of the mountain had settled into his bones. His shoulders were broad, thick with muscle, his eyes blazing with an intensity that seemed to pierce right through me. I could hardly breathe as I watched him, the silence between us stretching, thick with the tension of something impossible. Then, to my shock, he bent forward, his knees creaking as he dropped into a bow. The movement was slow and deliberate as though the effort of standing had left him exhausted, but his respect was clear.

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Should I speak? Step back? I had no idea what kind of being I was facing. A beast, a man, or something else entirely. But then he spoke. His voice was rough, gravelly, like a storm trying to break through. It carried the weight of years, of power, of something older than anything I’d ever known.

"Son of Dunco Kayne," he said, his eyes not leaving mine as he straightened. The words hit me like a fist. "You are his spitting image," he rasped, the words heavy, saturated with a strange sort of recognition. His golden eyes flickered as if trying to make sense of something that had just clicked. "Dunco’s son. Freyr, I presume?"

I cleared my throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. "You knew my father?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, and the surprise in my tone was unmistakable.

. "I knew him." His lips curled, a hint of something like nostalgia in his expression. "Your father," he said again, his voice low, carrying the weight of ages, "was a man who knew how to make decisions. You are his blood. His son." He paused, a long, pregnant silence hanging between us.

"And?"

"I was there the day former Lord of the Coven Dunco was killed, "The man announced.

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