BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 199: BURDEN OF THE KAYNE

Chapter 199: BURDEN OF THE KAYNE

{"The burden of responsibility is light compared to the burden of insufficiency, inability, or just plain failure." }

FREY’S POV

We finally reached the secret entrance to Blood Stone Mountain. Carved into the mountainside like a forgotten wound, it was nothing more than a jagged crevice choked with thorny vines and slick with old moss. But I felt it. The breath of something ancient leaking through the stone. Cold. Watching. Waiting.

Tor froze, and he stood still, shoulders tense, golden eyes locked on the darkness ahead like it had whispered something only he could hear. I stepped beside him, close enough that our arms brushed. Close enough to feel the war raging beneath his skin.

"Tor?" I asked, voice low. He did not answer. Did not move.

Behind us, Rou shifted on his feet. "What’s wrong with him?"

"He smells it," Dante said. "Same as I do. Same as you will, eventually."

"I don’t smell anything but rot," Rolan muttered, though he did not sound as confident as usual.

I placed a hand on Tor’s arm, light, steady, grounding.

"It’s magic," I said. "The evil of the mountain and its magic "

Tor finally blinked. His voice was rough when it came. "It has sensed that I am here."

That pulled a flicker of something unreadable across Dante’s face.

"So, it knows we are coming," the elder Dante snickered.

Tor just nodded slowly, then turned to me. "You’re sure this is the way?"

I gave him a half-smile that did not reach my eyes. "Yes "He huffed a quiet laugh, then stepped forward. Into the dark. Into whatever waited beneath as there was no turning back.

We moved deeper into Blood Stone Mountain, winding through a path only the desperate or the damned would have trusted. It was narrow, jagged, and wet with condensation that reeked faintly of old blood. Every few paces, the rock shifted beneath our boots like the mountain was breathing.

"This was the route Sierra gave us?" Rou asked, his voice low, sceptical.

I nodded once. "She said it would take us around the cursed wards. Get us closer to the core without alerting whatever is feeding off the place."

"’Said,’" Rolan muttered. "That’s a word I don’t like in caves."

But we pressed on. The deeper we went, the colder the magic became, not the kind that chilled your skin, but the kind that coiled around your bones and whispered that you would never leave. Then we hit it, the barrier was not visible at first. It felt like a slow pressure building in the air, thickening until it clawed at the lungs. But when we got close enough, it shimmered barely. Like a curtain of heat over the stone, rippling faintly.

Rolan froze. Stopped mid-step like someone had grabbed his spine.

"What is it?" Tor asked, eyes already narrowing.

Rolan’s nostrils flared. He took a step back. Just one. But for him, it meant something. "This is a trap," he said quietly.

Rou straightened. "What are you talking about?"

"I mean this," Rolan snapped, pointing at the barrier without getting too close. "This is not just a ward. It is a lure. Something wants us to cross it."

Dante arched a brow, oddly calm. "And what gave it away? The bone-deep dread or the charming sensation of being watched?"

"No," Rolan said, voice suddenly flat. "The smell. There is no decay past that barrier. It is too clean. Too... inviting."

That made even Rou pause and Tor looked to me then, eyes searching mine. "We go around?"

I studied the barrier a moment longer. My magic reached toward it, brushing its edge like fingertips to flame. It pulsed. Not with violence. With intent.

"It’s not guarding something," I said slowly. "It’s hunting."

Rolan nodded, jaw tight. "There is another way down. I saw it branching off a few turns back. Not as direct. But safer."

I exhaled through my nose, gaze fixed on the glimmering veil of magic. "Fine. We circle. But fast. I do not want this thing getting bored and following."

And so, we turned from the path Ma-Sierra led us to, slipping deeper into the mountain’s throat.

But even as we left it behind, I felt the barrier watching us and then it smiled and the Mira magic in my body buzzed with anger. The minute we arrived at the diversion, I stopped cold. The path dipped sharply to the right, curling like a serpent through the stone, but I did not take a step forward.

"We’re not alone," I said, my voice low but sharp enough to cut through the quiet. "The barrier... it smiled at me."

Every head turned; Dante blinked slowly. Rou stiffened. Tor was the only one who did not look surprised, just more alert. But it was Rolan who spoke first. "You saw it smile?"

I nodded once, eyes still scanning the cavern ahead. "Not with my eyes. With my magic. It looked back."

His face darkened. "Then it is real. That kind of magic does not pretend unless it wants something. We need to be careful from now on. No more assumptions."

"Agreed," I said, and lifted my hand.

The Mira magic unfurled from my fingertips like threads of moonlight, delicate but unyielding. I pushed it out in a gentle pulse at first, then harder. It pressed against the space around us, and suddenly, the air shuddered and the cave around us cracked like glass. The path vanished beneath our feet. Light bent, twisted then shattered.

In the next breath, we were no longer in a narrow tunnel, but we stood in a massive chamber, surrounded entirely by rock. Not just any rock, Blood Stone. Veined in crimson, pulsing faintly as if it had a heartbeat. The scent of magic was thick and cloying now, heavy in my throat like smoke and old spells.

Rolan cursed under his breath. "Son of a—"

Tor took a step forward, eyes wide with sudden clarity. He looked around slowly, then whispered, "We’ve been walking in an illusion."

"How long?" Rou asked, voice sharp.

Dante only smiled that tired, knowing smile of his. "Long enough."

I turned in a slow circle. The real mountain was quiet but not empty. Something had been guiding us. Something had wanted us to see what it chose, and I did not like what that said about what else it could do.

"Eyes are sharp. Wards up," I ordered, my voice steadier than I felt. "Whatever is watching us just lost its pretty mask. Now we see it. And it knows." Tor moved beside me, close enough for his warmth to ground me again.

I pushed the power of the Mira again, this time more focused. It tore through the space like a blade, carving a path ahead of us. The air around us thickened, the mountain groaning in response to the intrusion.

A bridge formed beneath our feet, stretching out toward the east side of the cavern. Blood Stone, in its twisted beauty, loomed all around us, its veins pulsing like the heart of the world itself. I motioned for the others to follow, and it was Tor who took the first step onto the bridge, his gaze intense but unreadable. Rou and Rolan followed closely, their senses stretched thin, while Dante lagged, his eyes still calculating, always seeing something others missed.

When we stepped onto the far side, the air shifted. We were not just standing beneath the mountain anymore. We were inside it, and the ground beneath us seemed to hum with life. The Blood Stones around us shuddered and unfolded like something ancient awakening from a long slumber. The chamber seemed to stretch, grow larger, darker, and then... the blood began to flow.

It started as a trickle, a thick, dark stream oozing from the crevices in the rocks. It moved like liquid fire alive in a way that no substance should be. The crimson tide crept across the cavern floor, pooling at our feet, rising higher and I felt the magic in the blood. It was ancient. Corrupt. And powerful beyond anything I had known.

Elder Dante gagged first, and his body jerked, his head snapping back as if something invisible had choked him. His fangs flashed, and for a moment, I saw the beast beneath the surface, the wild, uncontrolled force of the vampire elder fighting to break free.

"No!" Dante’s voice was strained, guttural. "I can’t—"

Before I could move, Rou and Rolan were already there, grabbing him by the shoulders, forcing him back.

"Get him down," Rou growled, his hands tight around Dante’s arms, keeping him from thrashing.

"He’s losing it," Rolan added, his voice tense. "This is bad, Freyr. This magic is pushing his vampire beast into a frenzy."

I stepped forward, eyes locked on Dante’s pained face. I could feel the pull of the blood, the way it sought to twist his nature, to break his control.

"Dante," I said, my voice steady even as my pulse quickened. "Fight it."

Dante’s eyes flicked to mine, wide with a hint of something more primal than I had ever seen in him. His lips curled back in a snarl, but his focus seemed to sharpen. "I will," he rasped, his breath coming out in shaky gasps. "But not for long..."

Rou and Rolan tightened their grips on Dante as he fought for control. His hands clenched into fists, veins standing out like dark lightning beneath his skin and then after a minute or two his body calmed down and he reigned his vampire beast in.

Tor stepped up beside me, his voice a low murmur. "This is no longer just a fight against what is in the mountain, Freyr. This is a battle for their minds. For all of us."

I nodded, the weight of his words settling on my shoulders. "We push forward," I said, turning to the others. "We need to get to the core of Bloodstone Mountain as soon as possible, or we shall be losing it one by one.

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