BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 224: ELIMINATING LORD MARCEL

Chapter 224: ELIMINATING LORD MARCEL

I took a sharp step back, breath caught in my throat and my heart was thundering, not from fear no, not exactly but from something rawer. More exposed. My instincts screamed to run, to cloak myself again in the illusion I had worn like armor for years.

But she moved before I could and she stepped forward and placed both firsthand my chest, not harsh, not forceful, but firm. Grounding. Her fingers curled slightly in my shirt as she looked up at me, and the vampire in her eyes had quieted. What was left was just her. That impossible, wild woman who saw through everything I had built.

I stiffened. "Qadira, don’t—"

She held me in place, eyes searching mine, and shook her head gently. "I will not tell a soul, "She said softly. "Your truth stays with me."

I stared at her. No judgment in her gaze. No fear. Only understanding. And something else I was not ready to name. My hands twitched at my sides. The Rogourau inside me pressed forward, restless and waiting. So, I gave it breath and I inhaled deeply and then let go.

The shimmer of illusion around me dropped like shattered glass. The subtle tweaks I had kept over my face, my eyes, and my voice were gone. I felt the air hit my skin differently. I saw the way her eyes shifted as my real self emerged: taller, broader, features sharpened by bloodline and battle. My hair longer, my jaw rougher, a scar visible on my cheek I’d long hidden. And my eyes glowed faintly with that molten-gold heat that marked my kind. The air between us thickened. Qadira’s hands remained on my chest. She looked at me like she had seen me a thousand times already.

"I wondered," she said, voice like a breeze over a blade. "There was something too perfect about the way you moved. Too dulled."

I gave a dry laugh. "Takes effort to look harmless."

"You’ve never looked harmless," she murmured.

For a moment we just stood there, the silence heavy with all the things we were not saying and then I reached for her hands, gently uncurled them from my chest, but I did not let go. I kept hold of them; fingers laced with hers.

"I didn’t show anyone," I said quietly. "Not since I left the Shifter lands. Not even Rou."

She nodded, eyes never leaving mine. "Then I will carry this for you. With you."

A strange kind of peace settled in my chest, and we stood together in that meadow, the last light of the evening casting long shadows across the grass, the cave behind us, the Mira house far enough away to feel like another world. And for the first time in years, I stood as me with no mask, no illusion, just skin, breath, and blood.

Qadira squeezed my hands once, firmly. "Come on," she said. "Let’s stand in it." I nodded, and we stood holding hands as the wind carried the scent of pine and dusk and something else neither of us dared name just yet.

We must have sat there for hours with no words, no need. Just her breath beside mine and the soft rustle of night slipping over the meadow like a velvet curtain. Her presence, steady and sharp, was the only thing keeping the beast in me at bay. The moon had arched high overhead by the time I shifted, reluctantly, and said, "We should head back." My voice sounded rough, like it had been buried in the dirt with my truth.

Qadira looked at me, eyes gleaming with quiet knowing. "You sure?" she asked, as if she could sense the storm building behind my ribs.

I hesitated, gaze fixed on the soft lights still glowing from the Mira house beyond the trees. "Yeah," I said eventually. "They’ll be wondering if I ran off or got eaten by something worse than myself."

She snorted softly, but her smile did not reach her eyes. She knew what I was about to do. So, I turned to her, standing still in the pale moonlight, the illusion still peeled away, the truth still visible on every scar and shadow of my face. "Qadira," I said quietly. "I’m going to put it back."

She blinked, surprised. "Why?"

I exhaled, and it felt like surrender. "Because there is still a fight ahead. And once we walk back into that house, every distraction will cost us." Her jaw tightened, but she did not argue.

"I’ll show them who I am after," I added. "When Blood Stone Mountain is dust and whatever dark thing lives inside it is ash beneath our boots. That is when I will stop hiding. But not before."

I stepped closer, my voice low, for her alone. "They need the Rolan they know right now. Not the one I buried years ago."

"I understand," she whispered. "But do not hide from me. Not even when you wear that mask."

A beat passed between us. Then I let the illusion slide back into place with a pulse of will. My body shifted subtly face smoothing, eyes dulling to a safer hue, scars vanishing beneath a false, clean surface.

She stared for a long moment, her brows drawn, but then she said, "Alright. Let us go."

The forest was quiet around us as we made our way back to the Mira house; only the occasional whisper of night birds or the crunch of leaves beneath our boots broke the silence. Still, something about walking beside her made the shadows less suffocating.

"There’s something about Bloodstone Mountain," Qadira said, her voice thoughtful, eyes flicking toward the dark horizon where the mountain loomed like a sleeping beast. "It is not just the energy. It is... layered. Veiled. As if it is hiding more than just rot and blood."

I glanced sideways at her. "You think there’s something under the surface?"

"I know there is," she said sharply. "And it’s connected to Lord Marcel." She continued, her tone lower now. "When I was there last, when I passed through the outer ridges felt a pull. Like the shadows were whispering, drawing me toward something.

"When I was imprisoned there, I always felt that it was more for Lord Marcel," I responded.

She shook her head. "A secret. Even a bond he is tied to. Something anchoring his power." And she went quiet for a second. "If we find it," she said, voice tight, "we might be able to take him down faster. Break the spine of whatever is holding him up."

I stared ahead, processing. "Then we will need to locate the inner chambers. The place he keeps guarded the most."

Qadira nodded. "Exactly. If I can get close, I might be able to sense the source again."

"And if it’s what you think it is," I muttered, "we won’t just weaken him, we’ll gut his entire foundation."

She looked over at me, her expression unreadable. "It’ll be dangerous."

I let out a dry laugh. "Wouldn’t be worth it if it wasn’t."

We walked the rest of the way in silence, thoughts sharpening into strategy. The scent of pine deepened as we neared the edge of the tree line. The Mira house stood just ahead, warm light spilling out from its windows like a quiet promise.

The front steps of the Mira house creaked softly beneath our boots as Qadira, and I approached. The warmth of the lantern light glowing through the windows should have felt comforting but something was off. The air was too still. The night was too quiet.

I reached for the door, pushed it open.

Rou stood just inside the foyer, arms folded across his chest, jaw tense. The second he saw u, he straightened like a wire pulled taut.

"Where the hell have you two been?" he muttered, not even trying to mask the edge in his voice.

I raised a brow. "Walking. Talking. What happened?"

He exhaled sharply. "Tor and Freyr are gone."

That stopped me cold. "What?"

"Missing," Rou clarified, stepping toward us. "They left earlier, did not tell anyone where. I thought they went to scout something near the cliffs, but they have not come back. No contact, no word."

My gut clenched, the beast inside me rising to full alert.

"And Dante?" Qadira asked, voice cool and focused.

Rou’s eyes flicked to her. "Went after them about an hour ago when it got too quiet. He was worried they ran into something. I told him to wait for you two he did not listen."

I dragged a hand down my face. "Shit."

"Do you think it’s Marcel?" Qadira asked Rou, stepping further into the house, already scanning for signs.

He shook his head slowly. "Maybe and maybe not. But we need to be sure that they are safe."

"They wouldn’t go in alone," I said firmly. "Not without at least telling one of us."

Qadira looked at me, brows furrowed. "Unless they didn’t get the chance."

"I understand that it’s dangerous, but for now-" Rou spoke up.

"We wait?" I finished, voice tight.

Rou met my eyes. "Yes"

My hands curled into fists. I did not like waiting. I did not like knowing. And I did not like the sudden silence where Tor and Freyr should have been laughing or arguing or throwing ideas across the room.

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