BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 206: THE CORE REMEMBERS, THE BLOOD BETRAYS

Chapter 206: THE CORE REMEMBERS, THE BLOOD BETRAYS

{ "The mountain core calls and I must go." }

The Core burned beneath my skin alive in me now, pulsing through my blood like a second heartbeat. Every breath came sharp, electric, as if I could taste the mountain’s power on my tongue.

Then my vision shifted, and I didn’t close my eyes as the core closed them for me. The world around me twisted, the red glow of the Core replaced by shadow and ash. I felt myself pulled, yanked through a thread of space and soul, until suddenly I saw.

Freyr and Tor.

They were lying close together on the rough stone floor of a cavern hidden just beyond the jagged mouth of the BloodStone caves. Freyr’s arm was slung protectively over Tor’s chest, his face pale and strained, as if he’d just poured the last of his strength into shielding them. Tor’s eyes were wide, breath ragged, like he was barely holding himself together.

And across the walls, Lord Marcel stood tall, cloaked in regal black, his expression unreadable, but his presence was a void. A terrible stillness radiated from him, the kind that makes even the dead tremble. Beside him hovered the creature, the black-cloaked horror from the Core, now fully formed, crackling with crimson energy that bled into the rock around it like mold on flesh. But it wasn’t just them. Behind them, shuffling forward with an unnatural grace was an old vampire. His robes were torn, soaked in blood that dripped from his lips, his jaw slack with madness. His eyes are gods, his eyes. Glowing red, ancient, wrong. He smiled, slow and crooked, as if he could already taste the end.

The Core’s voice returned, echoing through the vision.

"You see now what waits. The trap is not sprung. It is unfolding."

Freyr stirred in the vision, whispering something to Tor. I couldn’t hear the words, but I felt the ache behind them. There was desperation. But there was also... connection. The kind that could anchor someone in the dark. And still Marcel stood untouched, unmoving and the creature hissed beside him its head twitching, sensing, waiting. And that old vampire, He was ancient and He was once one of us. And now, he was something else entirely. The vision snapped, shattered like glass, and I collapsed to the Core’s floor, gasping, sweat soaking my skin. I pushed myself to my feet, trembling but focused.

I leapt from the Core’s chamber, the mountain wind slapping against my face like a wake-up call from the gods themselves. My boots hit stone hard, and I sprinted up the ridge where the light still flickers from our earlier battle.Rolan and Rou spun around the moment they heard me . They both staggered back. Rou’s hand went for his blade. Rolan’s jaw dropped.

"What—" I started, but then Rou pointed straight at me, eyes wide.

"Dante... look at yourself."

I followed his gaze, slowly lowering my eyes. Blood. So much blood. It drenched me from head to toe, slick, half-dried, crusted at my collar, dripping from my fingertips. My chest heaved as I turned my palms over, trying to remember if it was mine, if something had gone wrong when I fused with the Core, but I felt no pain. Just heat. And power. And something... old.

I stared back at them, blinking, and then, a breathless chuckle escaped me.

"Relax," I said, voice hoarse, lips twisting into something like a smile. "You should see the ancient evil Lord Marcel’s been breeding."

I looked down at myself again, raising my arms slightly as the red glistened in the fading light.

"This?" I motioned to the blood. "This is nothing. Just a preview."

They didn’t speak. Not right away. Rolan looked like he wanted to. Rou just studied me, warily like I was someone else entirely.

"I don’t have time to ease you into this," I said, my voice rough as gravel. "The Core, it’s alive. It spoke to me. Fused with me. And it showed me everything."

Rolan took a slow step forward, his eyes flicking over the blood still slicking my skin. "Everything... what do you mean?"

"I mean we’ve been playing checkers on a goddamn chessboard," I growled. "Marcel isn’t just corrupt. He’s a traitor to the blood. He’s been feeding the evil sealed in the mountain—feeding it Kayne’s blood. And the Rogourau’s. And now—" I met their eyes, "—now it wants Freyr and Tor."

Rou’s face twitched, the fury already burning behind his gold-tinged pupils. "Where are they?"

"I saw them. Just now through the Core. Hiding in the caves. They’re hurt. Holding onto each other like it’s the only thing keeping them from falling apart." I took a shaky breath. "And on the other side of the cavern... Marcel. The creature. And something worse."

Rolan’s face paled, then hardened like ice. "What’s worse than that thing?"

"An old vampire," I said. "One of ours. Twisted. Drenched in blood. He looked at Marcel like a prophet looks at his god. Like he’d do anything for him."

"We go now," Rou said, his voice gravel and thunder.

"No plan?" Rolan asked, cracking his neck.

"There is no time," I snapped, already turning. "If we don’t get there before that thing touches Freyr or Tor, it’s over."

Using vampire speed, I rushed, the wind screamed past me as we tore across the ridge, the cave’s jagged mouth rising in the distance like a wound in the mountain’s side. Every step hammered one thought deeper into my skull. The mountain blurred around me as I sprinted, heart pounding like a war drum in my chest. The Core’s power still surged beneath my skin, but it wasn’t adrenaline; it was purposeful. Every step slammed into the rock like an oath.

Behind me, claws scraped against stone, fast and relentless as Rou and Rolan in their Rogourau beast more followed.

"They’re sleeping," I called out over my shoulder, barely catching my breath. "That’s what the vision showed me. Kayne and Tor were worn down, maybe drained. I don’t think they even know Marcel’s this close."

Rou growled low behind me. "Then they’re vulnerable."

Rolan’s voice was clipped, urgent. "How far?"

"Just past the redstone ridge. There’s a split in the mountain’s narrow mouth, hiding the entrance."

They surged past me then, Rou a blur of muscle and shadow, Rolan just behind, his eyes sharp and glowing with barely restrained panic.

"Dante," Rou called back as he ran, "you’d better not be wrong."

I wasn’t. I couldn’t be. The scent of blood was in the air now, faint, but unmistakable. My heart stuttered. Please, gods... let me be on time.

The entrance to the cave loomed before us, half-swallowed by shadow, its jagged edges crusted with blackened moss and dried blood that shimmered faintly in the mountain’s dying light. I skidded to a stop, my boots scraping against loose gravel, my lungs heaving as I stared into the dark.

The scent hit me first. Not just blood.Rot.

Thick and cloying, like the world had decayed inside this place and then been stitched back together wrong. It clawed down my throat, sour and rancid, and buried itself deep in my gut.

"Do you feel that?" I rasped, my hand bracing against the stone.

Rou stepped up beside me, nose wrinkling as his lip curled into a snarl. "It reeks of death."

Rolan closed his eyes for a second and then flinched. "No... not death. Corruption. Something old."

I nodded slowly, my eyes locked on the black beyond the mouth of the cave. "They’re close."

"Kayne and Tor?" Rou asked.

I shook my head, every hair on my body rising. "No. Marcel. And whatever he’s summoned."

A pulse of dread coiled around my spine as I stepped forward, deeper into the dark. My hand gripped the jagged stone wall as I led the way, the Core’s power within me flickering like a warning flame.

"That smell," I muttered, "it’s not just the monster. Marcel’s not alone."

Rolan’s voice was low behind me. "The ancient vampire?"

"Yeah." My voice was almost a whisper now, caught somewhere between fury and fear. "I saw him in the vision. Covered in blood, eyes glowing like hellfire. He was behind Marcel. Waiting. Watching."

A faint sound echoed deeper inside something that didn’t belong. Not rock shifting. Not wind.

Breathing. Heavy. Wet. Wrong. I was just about to charge in, blade ready, when a hand clamped down on my arm.

I spun, instinct flaring, ready to strike—

But it was Rolan and His grip was firm, eyes locked on something just beyond me.

"There," he said, voice low but urgent. He pointed toward the edge of the cave wall—a patch of jagged rock that didn’t quite match the others, shadows clinging to it too tightly, like they were protecting something.

I followed his gaze— And there they were. Freyr.

Kayne.

Pressed against the stone, half-hidden in the crevice, cloaked in dust and blood and silence. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, sharp and shaky, full of everything I couldn’t say in that moment.

"They are okay," I muttered, my voice thick.

Rou stepped up beside me and let out a low breath that almost sounded like a laugh. Not a mocking one, just pure, stunned relief. He smiled. Actually smiled.

"Well," he said with a shrug, "I guess we’re not too late after all."

My heart was still racing, but I nodded. "Fuck yes."

Search the lightnovelworld.cc website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.