BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 186: INTO BLOOD STONE MOUNTAIN

Chapter 186: INTO BLOOD STONE MOUNTAIN

The air in the Kayne chambers was thick with ancient magic, the scent of old stone and smouldering candle wax curling around my senses like a coiled beast. Freyr stood beside me, his silver eyes still glowing faintly with the remnants of the ritual’s light. I could feel it too, the power of the Mira, now humming through my veins, not overwhelming but... synchronized. Balanced. Shared.

I exhaled slowly, trying to speak, but before I could form the words, a voice rose behind us, soft, weathered, and yet piercing through the silence like a blade through silk.

"So," she said, "you’ve done it. Together." I turned, and Freyr turned with me and there she stood, Freyr’s Grandmother, cloaked in layers of midnight blue, her white hair coiled like a crown, and that ever-knowing smile stretching across her ancient face. Her eyes, clouded by time, still burned with something deeper than sight.

"You finally absorbed the power of the Mira," she continued, stepping forward with the grace of someone who had long stopped fearing time. "And I was wrong. I thought only you, Freyr, could take it in. That only your bloodline held the key."

Freyr said nothing, but I saw his jaw tighten. He wasn’t one to boast, not even now, with the stars practically singing through his skin.

"But no," Grandmother said, stopping just in front of us. "The bond between you two... it was never meant to be one-sided. The Mira only yields when unity is absolute. And you, Alpha Tor, you’ve proven that. "I felt her words sink into my chest, heavier than the power I now carried. I looked at Freyr, and he met my gaze.

"Guess we’re not just balancing each other out anymore," I said quietly, my voice barely more than a breath. "We’ve become something new, a bond that will never be broken. "

"Something necessary," she replied. "The realms have been teetering for too long. The peace was always going to be temporary... until now, now there is hope. There was no triumph in her tone, just a strange, quiet reverence. Like she was seeing a prophecy realign itself in real time.

I clenched my fist, letting the energy pulse between my fingers. "So... this is it."

She nodded. "Not the beginning, Tor. The awakening."

And I realized then it wasn’t just power we’d taken in, and it was the purpose.

The heavy door groaned open behind us, the final click echoing like the closing note of a song too old to name. I stepped out first, the chilled air brushing against my skin like a whisper, reminding me that we’d just walked out of something sacred. Freyr followed, silent and steady as ever, the last glint of Mira’s light flickering in his wake.

The secret garden stretched before u,s untamed, half-wild beauty stitched with starlight. The scent of damp earth and blooming night flowers rushed in to greet us, and for a second, I thought the world might just hold still, and then we saw Rou. Pacing like a caged wolf at the threshold of the garden path, his boots kicking up patches of moss as he moved back and forth, hands clenched at his sides, jaw working with barely contained tension. His whole frame was coiled like he was expecting the worst.

"Rou?" I called out.

His head snapped up, and the sheer relief that crashed through him as his eyes landed on us. His shoulders sagged so hard I thought he might collapse right there, like he’d been holding the weight of the realms on his back while we were locked away.

"You’re alive," he breathed, voice cracking at the edges as he strode toward us.

"Of course we are," I said, managing a crooked smile. "Took a bit longer than planned, but we’re not in the habit of dying in ancient magical crypts."

Rou stopped just short of us, his eyes scanning both of us, lingering on Freyr a second longer than me, like he was checking for cracks we might be hiding. Then he let out a long breath and muttered, "You both look like you’ve been hit by time itself."

"Close," Freyr murmured, brushing moss from his shoulder.

Rou chuckled short and sharp, more disbelief than humour, and then pulled me into a rough, one-armed hug before doing the same to Freyr. "I don’t know what you did there," he said, stepping back. "But the wards around this place... they’ve gone quiet. Like something ancient just bowed its head."

I exchanged a look with Freyr and nodded once. "Yeah. That’s one way to put it."

Rou blinked, then smirked. "So, what now?"

"Time to head to Blood Stone Mountain. "I spoke up.

His smirk faded. "Then let’s not waste time."

The mist curled low around our boots as we moved through the forest path leading to Blood Stone Mountain. Freyr walked a pace ahead, silent as usual, his eyes scanning the horizon like it might try to lie to him. Rou, on the other hand, was all restless motion beside me, arms crossed, jaw tense, that storm behind his eyes growing louder the closer we got to the mountain. He hadn’t said much since we left the garden. None of us had. There was a weight to this journey. One that didn’t need filling with words.

Then Freyr stopped so suddenly that I nearly walked into him.

"What is it?" I asked, my hand already shifting toward the blade at my side, but Freyr didn’t answer. He just tilted his head.

Then I heard it too, the voices, two of them, low, firm. Familiar.

And then they stepped through the trees, and then Dante, all cloak and confident smirk, sword strapped over one shoulder like it was born there. And beside him, a man who was a spitting image of Rou.

Rou froze, and for a heartbeat, none of us moved. Rolan’s eyes widened as they landed on Rou, like he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming.

"Rou?"

"Rolan."

Rou’s voice cracked on the name, and suddenly he was moving as they crashed into each other like a storm meeting the sea, no hesitation, no words. Just arms clamped tight, like letting go would undo everything they’d survived. I’d seen Rou fight demons with less fury than he put into that hug.

"Gods, it’s you," Rou breathed, voice muffled against Rolan’s shoulder. "You bastard—you didn’t even send a word."

"I couldn’t," Rolan said, gripping the back of Rou’s neck." How could I when I was fucking locked up"

I glanced at Dante, who shrugged with a lopsided grin, and he responded, "Thought you three could use some extra swords."

Freyr raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were headed to the border to intercept the Vampire army?"

"No need for that. It seems Aurora was way ahead of us and had Armon and Aggrey take on the mission, as your mother was worried and wanted me to come along. "

I watched Rou pull back, just enough to look at Rolan properly, like he still wasn’t sure he was real.

"You look older," Rou muttered, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"So do you," Rolan shot back. "But still reckless, I see."

"Wouldn’t be me otherwise."

"Come on, we need to get to Bloodstone Mountain by nightfall, "I spoke up.

Dante added, "Lead the way, Alpha."

And just like that, the five of us turned as one toward the rising shadows of Blood Stone Mountain.

By the time we reached Blood Stone Mountain, the place was crawling with Royal guards. Dozens of them. But the Mira magic cloaked us like a second skin, cool, humming softly under the surface of my ribs. It was Freyr’s doing, mostly. He was still channelling it like it belonged to him, his eyes dimly lit with that otherworldly pulse.

"They’re everywhere," Rou whispered beside me, squinting through the canopy. "We can’t take them all."

"We don’t need to," Rolan spoke up. "We’re not going through the front door."

Freyr nodded toward the east. "The cave network runs beneath the surface. Hidden paths. Old as the mountain itself."

Rolan grinned. "Smells like home."

Dante chuckled low. "If your home is wet rock and dying light, I’m starting to feel bad for your childhood."

We slipped through the trees like ghosts, Mira’s magic bending light and shadow to our will. The guards didn’t even glance our way. I could feel the tension in my gut begin to ease, but not by much. We hadn’t even gotten inside yet. The east entrance was half-hidden by a collapsed stone arch and strangled roots, but Freyr found the sigil etched into the wall. A flick of his hand, a quiet word in an old tongue, and the rocks shifted open like they were sighing in relief.

And then we were i,n and immediately, the world changed.

The air grew cold not from lack of sunlight, but from something else

"Doesn’t feel like a cave," I murmured, brushing moisture from my collar. "Feels like a lung."

"A sleeping one," Dante muttered. "This feels different from the last time we were here. It seems that someone awakened the evil in the mountain."

We moved carefully, blades drawn, breaths quiet. The fog made it nearly impossible to see more than a few feet ahead, and the deeper we went, the louder the rain became. It wasn’t falling on us, it was falling somewhere inside the mountain. A steady, unnatural downpour.

Rolan stopped beside a jagged column of stone. "You hear that?"

"The rain?" I asked.

"No." He tilted his head. "Something beneath it."

I strained to listen, and there it was. A heartbeat.

Freyr looked over his shoulder at me, eyes like storm light. "The mountain’s not just a place," he said. "It’s a vault. And it’s awakened"

"It seems that Lord Marcel has advanced his plans," Dante cursed out loud.

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