My Alphas' Dark Desires
Chapter 217: Memory Home

Chapter 217: Memory Home

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Chapter 217

~Davion’s POV~

Sunblaze stepped aside, silent as a shadow, leaving the doorway open.

Xander glanced at me, still confused—but he didn’t speak.

Once the door locked behind us with a soft, final click, I led Xander deeper into the Memory Home as our soft steps echoing against the ancient polished stone floors.

The scent of history filled the air, old parchment, forgotten magic, and bloodline secrets that had been sealed for centuries.

We climbed the staircase in silence. My son followed closely behind, his eyes darting over the grand architecture and ancient symbols etched into the walls, carved by ancestors long gone.

At the top floor, we turned left into a narrow corridor. The air here was colder, stiller—like the past refused to be forgotten.

We walked all the way down until we stood at the end, facing a blank wall. It stared back at us, plainly, cold, unyielding.

Xander’s brows furrowed. I noticed the tension oozing from him, beside me.

"What is it, Father?" he asked, keeping his voice low as if not to disturb me. "I thought we’d be using one of the rooms."

"Shh..." I lifted a finger to my lips.

He fell silent instantly.

Then slowly, I called upon the energy within me. A deep violet glow began to curl around my right palm, glowing brighter with every heartbeat. I raised it to the center of the wall.

The moment my hand touched stone, a symbol burned into existence beneath my palm—an interlocking crest of House Draco and the Elder Flame.

A mechanical hum echoed around us and the wall rippled, gears shifted and magic moved.

Then, as though pushed by unseen hands, the wall slid backward and vanished entirely, revealing a massive chamber which was dark at first.

"Light," I commanded.

Runes burst to life across the ceiling and walls, casting soft golden radiance over everything.

Xander gasped audibly and rightfully so.

The room was enormous, layered with platforms and balconies like a library but instead of books, every level was filled with portraits. Painted memories.

There were tapestries of my childhood. Paintings of my parents, the previous Dragon King and Queen. Our ancestors, dragonlords of old, the royal line in its full regality.

The weight of legacy was full established everywhere yoyu looked.

And on the floor where we stood, the closest level—there were dozens of portraits of me as a prince, moments captured with brush and magic—court events, battle memories and coronation trials.

But then... his gaze fell on it.

I watched as his steps slowed. His eyes widened.

I moved toward it without a word, stopping before the painting. My hand hovered near the edge of the golden frame.

The painting depicted me and her.

"Is that...?" Xander asked, his voice rough behind me.

"Yes," I said quietly. "Zara Gold. Before she and Snow Zephyr remarried."

"She... was beautiful," he murmured.

A small, wistful smile tugged at my lips. "Yes... she was."

In the portrait, she stood beside me in a ceremonial robe I gifted her—radiant, proud, untamed. The glow in her eyes, the confidence in her stance... it had been unlike anything I’d ever seen.

I still remembered how hard it was for her to take that with me before I returned back to my kingdom for my crowning.

But it was the next painting that stole the breath from Xander’s lungs.

I stepped aside, revealing it.

Myself, Zara, Snow Zephyr and between them, a baby girl—nestled protectively in their arms.

"The Southern Werewolf Royal Family," I announced softly. "Zara. Snow. And their daughter."

Xander stepped closer, hesitantly. As though afraid the image might vanish.

"She has..." His hand reached out, fingers tracing the painted strands of the baby’s hair. "Three-toned silver hair. With blue and purple streaks at the tips... just like us."

"Yes, she does."

"And her eyes are heterochromia, blue and violet. But... how? And does that mean this Valerie... the one I know... is my sister?"

My smile was sad. "Yes. And no."

He turned to me, confused.

"Come," I said, nodding to the left. "There’s more."

We crossed the chamber to another portrait—smaller, but no less vivid.

A birthday scene.

Little Violet stood in front of a glowing cake, surrounded by a few chosen guests. Her mother by her side. Snow just behind. And myself... standing quietly beside Zara.

"She looks so much older here," Xander whispered.

"She was turning eight," I replied. "The southern heiress wasn’t always publicly known. Few ever saw her outside royal gatherings. Only the other kings, Alpha rulers, and our trusted circles knew her by face."

"But why?" he asked.

"Because," I exhaled slowly, "like her mother, she was hidden. Not for tradition—but for safety. After all, Zara made many enemies... and there were threats against the bloodline even before the girl was born."

Xander studied the portrait again, brows drawn. "But Snow doesn’t have our hair colour, just the mysterious blue streaks at the tips. How did she—?"

"Because when Zara used my golden scale to save Snow Zephyr from death, it did more than cure him," I said. "A portion of my essence was transferred. My blood. My power. My traits. And when Violet was born... she inherited it."

Xander turned slowly. "So you never cheated on Mother?"

My brow lifted. "Why would I lie about that?"

He looked away. "Because... I feel things when she’s near. Deeper than friendship. Not romantic, not entirely. But... her pain reacts in me. Her aura... it sings to mine."

"That’s because of the bond you’re sensing."

He looked up, startled. I continued.

"She shares a unique bond with me as her godfather and her father, Snow. Our connection lingers—perhaps deeper than even I realized."

I turned toward him, raising a hand. "Show me her," I said.

Xander nodded and stood straight. I summoned a memory gem, but instead of handing it over, I directed the pulse toward his forehead. The magic responded at once.

Xander closed his eyes and a bright light flared before opening a memory.

And then she appeared... Valerie Nightshade.

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