BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 27: DEEP MURKY WATERS

Chapter 27: DEEP MURKY WATERS

words surround you like fog and make you hard to see"}

One week had passed, and I still had not gone back to Hanka Island. Every time I worked up the courage to leave, something held me back. I would end up sulking and drowning myself in whiskey, too cowardly to face Alpha Tor. The thought of his piercing gaze, his presence, made my stomach churn in ways I did not want to admit.

Lord Marcel had not been patient about my delays. For the past week, he sent the royal guards to my door, checking if I had finally left for Hanka Island. Each time, I waved them off with some excuse.

But tonight was different. As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and purple, there was a sharp knock at my door.

I yanked it open, expecting another guard, but instead, I found Nessa Leora and Aurora Jade standing on my doorstep. Nessa’s piercing gaze met mine, while Aurora’s eyes darted everywhere except to my face.

Raising an eyebrow, I leaned lazily against the doorframe. "To whom do I owe this surprise?"

Nessa was the first to speak, her voice as sharp as ever. "Lord Marcel sent us. He wanted to check when you were leaving for Hanka Island."

I smirked and stepped aside, gesturing for them to enter. "Of course, he did. Come in, then."

They settled into my sparsely furnished living room, Nessa claiming the chair across from me while Aurora perched awkwardly on the edge of the couch, as though afraid of making herself too comfortable.

Leaning back into the worn cushions, I let my smirk grow wider. "So, tell me—why did he send the two of you?"

Aurora stayed silent, her hands fidgeting in her lap. Her eyes flickered to me for a moment before darting away again. Inwardly, I cried. It was obvious Lord Marcel had planted the ridiculous idea in her head that we might be mates.

Nessa, ever perceptive, seemed to notice my discomfort. She gave a pointed cough to disrupt my thoughts before answering smoothly. "Aurora came because I needed company on the journey," she said, her tone flat and unbothered.

"Of course," I replied with an exaggerated nod, unable to keep the sarcasm from my voice. "That explains everything."

I watched as Nessa’s sharp gaze narrowed slightly, but she did not bite. Instead, she changed the subject.

"So, when will you leave for Hanka Island?"

I shrugged, dragging out the silence before finally replying, "Tomorrow."

Aurora’s head snapped up, and for a second, her expression betrayed hope. I ignored it, turning my attention back to Nessa. "You can report back to Lord Marcel that his precious little plan is still in motion."

Aurora was the first to rise, a polite yet hurried "Thank you" falling from her lips as she avoided my gaze. Nessa followed her lead, throwing me one last assessing glance before they both headed for the door.

"Safe travels," I called after them, my tone dripping with mock sincerity. The door closed behind them, leaving the room heavy with silence. I chuckled softly to myself, shaking my head as I reached for the bottle of whiskey on the table. Tomorrow, I will face Alpha Tor. But tonight? Tonight, I will drink.

The whiskey burned my throat as I leaned back into the chair on the balcony, staring at the night sky. The soft breeze carried the scent of elderflower and cedar—a scent unmistakably tied to Elder Dante.

I did not bother turning around. "What now?" I slurred, the liquor loosening my tongue. "Did Lord Marcel send you, too? Seems I am quite the project lately." My words were laced with mockery, every syllable dripping with disdain.

From the doorway, a light chuckle rose, smooth and unbothered. "I came to see what kind of trouble you’re stirring this time," Dante replied. "Especially after Marcel sent Nessa and Aurora to ’motivate’ you."

I turned my head slowly, my vision swimming just slightly, to see Dante lounging in the doorway. His broad frame leaned casually against the frame, arms crossed, and a familiar smirk playing on his lips.

"Motivate," I repeated with a scoff, my words dripping with sarcasm. "Sure, let’s call it that." I stood up, the chair scraping against the stone floor as I reached for the bottle. Without a word, I handed it to him.

Dante shook his head but took the drink, anyway, tipping it back without hesitation. The amber liquid disappeared quickly, and when he lowered the bottle, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "You know," he said, his smirk widening, "Marcel’s got it in his head that you will take her as your long-life mate. Nessa’s here to keep you in line, but Aurora? She is his hope for you."

I froze for a moment, and then the sound of my laughter rang out, loud and uncontrollable. It echoed across the quiet night, startling even me with its force. "Me? Aurora?" I finally managed, clutching my sides. "That is rich, Dante. Hilarious."

His smirk faltered slightly, his brow lifting in confusion. I waved a hand at him, catching my breath. "Let me save Marcel the trouble. I am not interested in women. Never have been, never will be."

Dante blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then, he chuckled again, low, and deep. "Well, that’s going to shatter a few illusions back at the Coven."

"Good," I replied, my tone sharp. "Let them shatter. Let Marcel stew in his miscalculated fantasies." I grabbed the bottle back from Dante and took another swig, the burn of the whiskey grounding me for just a moment.

Dante shook his head, stepping further onto the balcony. "You always have to make things difficult, don’t you?"

"Difficult?" I repeated, smirking as I leaned against the railing. "No, Dante. I am just honest. Something this Coven could use more of." He sighed but did not argue, and for a while, we stood in silence, the weight of unspoken truths settling between us like a heavy fog.

The bottle lingered in my hand as I leaned against the balcony railing, watching the night. I turned my gaze to Dante, his figure still framed by the doorway. "Dante," I began, my tone even but laced with curiosity, "did my father approach the Bay Shifter pack before his death?"

Dante’s hand, mid-motion as he reached for another drink, froze in the air. His sharp gaze locked onto mine. "What are you getting at, Freyr?"

I straightened, the weight of my thoughts pressing heavily on my chest. "I suspect Pa was working with the Bay Shifter pack to broker peace. And I suspect that is why they killed him." My words hung in the air like a curse, thick and inescapable.

Dante took a step forward, his calm demeanor slipping into something far more guarded. "This isn’t the time or place for such accusations," he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "And you shouldn’t speak of this to anyone else."

I took a deliberate step closer, narrowing the gap between us. "It was Ma who told me," I whispered, my voice steady, though my heart pounded in my chest.

Dante’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he staggered back as if I had physically struck him. "Sierra... she told you this?" he stammered, his usual composed nature unraveling.

I nodded, watching him closely. "Yes. She did not tell me much, but it was enough to make me question everything. It is time you visited her. She might say more to you than she did to me."

Dante stared at me, his expression unreadable, but the flicker of conflict in his eyes betrayed him. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled sharply, as though trying to steady himself. "If Sierra mentioned it, then there’s more to this than I thought."

He straightened, the faint tremor in his voice disappearing as he regained his composure. "You are right. I will speak to her."

I smirked, swirling the drink in my hand as the moonlight caught the amber liquid. "So, Dante," I began, leaning casually against the railing, "will you take my advice and date her?"

His reaction was immediate, a slight shake of his head accompanied by a dry chuckle. "Freyr, you never miss a chance to meddle," he said, his tone laced with exasperation.

"I’m serious," I pressed, raising an eyebrow. "It’s about time you stopped lurking in the shadows and made a move. The man deserves someone who—"

"Enough," Dante interrupted, holding up a hand. His face softened, but his voice remained firm. "It’s too soon. Your mother needs time to heal. She’s been through more than anyone should ever have to bear."

I studied him for a moment, noting the tension in his jaw and the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. "And you? How long will you wait, Dante? Until everything around, you fall apart again?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair as he stepped closer to the balcony railing. "There are matters within the Paradise Coven that demand my focus right now," he said, his voice lower, more serious. "This isn’t the time for personal entanglements."

I shrugged, feigning nonchalance, though I could not hide the hint of amusement in my tone. "Always the noble one, aren’t you? Putting duty above all else."

Dante glanced at me, his lips curving into a faint smile. "Someone has to. And if I may remind you, you have your mission to worry about. Perhaps you should focus on that instead of playing matchmaker."

I chuckled, raising my glass in mock surrender. "Fair enough. But do not think for a second that I am letting this go, Dante. Ma deserves happiness, and so do you."

Without another word, Dante disappeared in a blur of speed, leaving the balcony eerily still. The faint scent of elderflower lingered in the air, and I was left standing alone under the moonlight, the weight of unanswered questions settling heavily on my shoulders.