The Alpha's Blind Fate
Chapter 54: Who Abandoned Her?

Chapter 54: Who Abandoned Her?

DAEMON

Daemon had returned to the sorry state of affairs that awaited him at the border of the GreenLands.

Marcus Direwolf, his cousin and his third-in-command was barely holding onto the reins of sanity at the camp and Daemon could understand why. Horny werewolves were one thing, horny werewolves that faced the danger of immediate death were entirely another thing.

"We must eliminate those who tried to desert the army." Marcus said, ever his serious and stern self. Daemon liked the man for that. Despite the fact Marcus was just twenty-two, one could hardly notice as he acted way older.

"We should." Daemon casually said, plopping into a seat and massaging his stiff neck and shoulders. His wolf had been growing particularly antsy of lately, and the conclusion Daemon arrived at was that he was in dire need of good sex.

When was the last time he got laid? Four weeks ago? Or was it four months ago?

The more he thought about it, the more it would seem as though the greens and greenery of the GreenLands was sucking away at his life force. He desperately needed a change of environment... and strangely, he remembered how good it was to be in the Arctic North.

Albeit how briefly it had lasted.

"Give the order and I will do just that." Marcus growled just as Yaren sauntered into the tent they were in.

"I second him." His brother said, standing beside Marcus. Side by side they looked formidable enough just how Daemon wanted them to appear. Marcus was lean muscled with dark features that did little to nothing to conceal the shadows and lethal intent that lurked in his eyes.

Whereas Yaren was all muscles and blocks. Over the last six years, he had transformed from the lean lanky boy with a chip on his shoulders, to a man of little words and more action.

While Yaren took care of their information network and ran necessary messages, Marcus was more like a commander who directed the affairs at the camp. Daemon had more people who worked closely with him, but these two were the people he trusted enough to let in into his true desires.

"I do not think executing more werewolves is the way to go now with what is coming for us." Daemon said, knowing that it only served to disgruntle them.

Marcus stared at him with those crazed dark eyes, smacking his lips together he said. "We can’t exactly have them thinking that it is okay to desert the army. We need to set an example as we’ve always done. And believe me when I say I do not think what is coming for us is worth preparing for. Give me the order and I will intercept this so-called diplomatic mission and I will serve you their heads."

Marcus was a different kind of mad bull in comparison to Yaren. While Yaren did have a vengeful streak alright, it was well tied to his emotions. With Marcus, words like emotions were a foreign to him. Taking life and giving one was all a matter of logic for the man... and truly, it was a fact that Daemon always appreciated.

At least, he would have appreciated it if Marcus wasn’t being incurably stupid at the moment.

"That is exactly what Eldric wants. For Zina WolfKnight’s death to be in our hands." Yaren said, the surprising voice of reason. Daemon could see how much the man struggled to say those words, after all no one wanted the Theta’s life more than his brother did.

"Which is why we should kill them before they reach here. That way that devious plan of your half-wit brother won’t succeed." Marcus protested. Daemon wouldn’t deny that there was reason in his words. The only flaw was that while Daemon didn’t mind the rest of Zina WolfKnight’s transport retinue being dead, the woman in question couldn’t die yet.

Not when Daemon had grown even more curious of her of late.

"It would be best if I received my brother’s goodwill in good health. Marcus, you’re to stand down on this matter." Daemon said matter-of-factly.

No matter how hot headed Marcus was, he was still someone who respected ranks and not even Daemon’s blood ties with him was enough for him to commit insubordination. There was also the fact that Daemon would not tolerate such whether from a brother, or from a cousin.

"Fine. What about the spy? How are we going to deal with the mess that the so-called incorruptible Theta has caused us?" Marcus seethed, saying just the words that Daemon had been thinking about.

"Bring the man in." Daemon ordered Yaren, and he left to do as said.

"She impressed me." Daemon mused, flipping open a random book on the table without checking the title.

"Impressed you?" Marcus said coolly, "I would say I have never seen anyone as audaciously foolish as the so-called woman who is the reason for your banishment. What ever in the world made her think it was remotely okay to contact the Matriarchy Pack?"

Daemon stilled at flipping the book, anger coursing through his veins. But decades of well honed control meant that he hardly looked like the tornado happening in his insides.

"More than that," He said, tossing the book aside. "I am surprised that the Matriarchy reached back to her. They’re normally recluse, invisible, and prefer their inner world to the outer one. And yet when Eldric’s Theta reached out to them, they answered as sharp as lightning. Why?"

Marcus shared the same curiosity as him. His brows were bunched together as if he was deep in thought. "It might have something to do with her lineage. I mean the reason why they eagerly answered her. Remember that while trying to trace back who could have possibly dropped her at the GreenLands after her birth, the trail came up at the East-Central borders. The exact place where the mountain abode of the Matriarchy is situated."

That information would have been ordinarily extremely hard for any good spy organization to acquire. But Daemon’s information network of the ’Unnamed’ was very good at what it did, and that information had been very pricey.

But the trail had gone cold. Zina WolfKnight’s origins stopped squarely at the East-Central borders which was a vague clue in itself.

Daemon stood, circling the stone table that possessed a detailed map of Vraga engraved on it. The stone table was literally a table made out of five stones that depicted the North, South, East, West and Central of Vraga.

For example, the North was caricatured with intricate crystals like ice that showed the various high ranked packs and their positions. While the greenlands were shown with greenstones that was an imitation of green grass—each of its regions was nailed and carved into it.

Daemon’s eyes went to the East-Central, observing the lands surrounding it. There was the Mountains of the Central lands alright, and while not only the Matriarchy occupied it, they possessed a vast majority of the lands. Almost ninety percent of it.

Daemon studied them intently. The other packs situated by the Matriarchy were remote packs that knew little to nothing about civilization. They barely summed up to members of more than thirty so it was far-fetched to think they could be tied to the WolfKnight woman.

Especially since the information they had said that the WolfKnight’s received a monthly sum of money from the person who could have been left her in the forest.

The Matriarchy on its own was a blazing city on the map. Depicted by a caricature imprint of gleaming Mountains molded as part of the table in the same manner crystals and greens were embedded on it.

Just then, something caught his eyes. At the West-Central was a part of the territory of the White Monks originating from the West itself—the Iron Coast.

The White Monks?

The possibility was there glaring at him just the possibility that it was the Matriarchy glared at him. But the two possibilities were nothing short of funny. While the Matriarchry were not wholly incapable of procreation, it was true that performed genital mutilation in order to prove the might of their vows of chastity.

The White Monks were an entirely different matter as they were castrated.

Daemon had never met a game he couldn’t solve. Soon, very soon, he would understand this game and play it in kind.

Many thought that Daemon’s awakening started six years ago. But they were wrong for it started twenty-eight years ago when Daemon was born. Or more like when he had clawed out of his dead mother’s stomach. The same night when Shadow had lost his wolf mysteriously.

Many said there was something that lurked in the Arctic Palace that night. Between a Lycan and a monster. On shadow’s part, he didn’t have the opportunity to see the thing that ruined his life, but Daemon didn’t need to see it. He only needed to destroy it before it came back and destroyed him instead.

The peculiar scar on his back and lower limbs began to tingle. He groaned internally, resolved to end the tiring war already and get laid.

Yaren came back at the same time, dragging the man Daemon awaited.

"This is him, Daemon." Yaren said, dropping the body on the ground.

Daemon observed the man before him impassively. He was dressed crudely and was openly glaring at him. Daemon almost admired that about the man. Most people cowered before him despite the fact that he didn’t exactly look as menacing as Marcus, nor as gruff as Yaren.

He supposed that he looked something far more terrifying for he hardly cared to express any emotion on his face. He preferred his expressions bland.

"I shall go straight to the point. I know you work for Zina WolfKnight. I am hardly interested in why you followed Yaren. Just tell me why she was meeting with the Matriarchy, and I might just forgive this stain and let you go."

The man spat at Daemon, although luckily for him, his spittle hardly touched him. "It is Theta to you!" He growled.

Ahh, they had a loyal one here? Was this not getting insufferably interesting?

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