The Alpha's Blind Fate
Chapter 92: Fulfilling An Age Long Promise

Chapter 92: Fulfilling An Age Long Promise

DAEMON

Dear son, if you’re reading this letter, then know that must mean I no longer breathe nor live in this world for that matter....

Daemon never understood parental love. How could he understand something that he himself never received? But he understood what it meant for one’s despair to bleed through the pages of a piece of letter... even if that person was dead.

So as he stood before his uncle and protector while the pieces of his son lay strewn a distance away, the tangy metallic smell of blood caressing their nostrils—in the look they both exchanged, they said the same thing.

Finally, the time of reckoning is here.

Daemon himself was bathed in blood, his hair stuck on his forehead, glued by his sweat. He was shirtless, exposing muscles that were even broader than it originally was, courtesy of the ordeal he had just gone through.

His uncle coughed violently, blood staining the white handkerchief in his hands. When the violent fits of cough were temporarily over, he spoke. "He was never a true son of mine, do not beat yourself over this if it helps."

Daemon simply narrowed his eyes at the man before him. "Either way it doesn’t matter much to me. You should have waited inside for me, uncle."

The man smiled shrewdly, and Daemon saw in him the startling features they both shared. They weren’t exactly prominent, but still enough for Daemon to see that he was truly his mother’s son, even if he had never seen said mother before.

"Look behind you Daemon," his uncle wheezed, "the pack kneels before you. They wait for you to become their Alpha. They can already see your strength, and I can see you are already evolving to become the Supreme DireWolf of our ancestors."

Daemon didn’t look behind him. He also didn’t acknowledge the fire that burned through his veins in a manner akin to a shift about to happen.

He had felt that fire when he had first shifted when he was ten. He had felt it next when he evolved to a Fernani Shifter, and then last when he had become a Lycan Shifter.

And now, he was feeling it again as a different wolf called to him.

"It is not for them I am here," Daemon said in response, still looking straight at his uncle and ignoring the thousands of the DireWolf Pack that knelt behind him in a strewn of the Tiger Wolf corpses... corpses that were the courtesy of Yaren and Marcus’ careful ministeration.

The man started coughing again, and this time, dark clotted blood followed. "It is true. You’ve come for the promise we both made to each other when you were just ten." He managed to wheeze out through a dry throat.

Daemon took a step forward, blood dripping from his pants to the sandy ground. "I have fulfilled my part as I promised you back then. I have risen as you wished. Now will you fulfil your part?"

As Daemon spoke to his uncle all he could remember was the events that happened ten years ago during his birthday when his uncle had visited the Arctic Castle to take him away.

Of course, Daemon’s father had found the idea preposterous. For even though the man wasn’t exactly present as a father should be in Daemon’s life, he still could not muster it in him to allow another man raise his only son of his fated mate.

So his uncle had been turned away. But before the Alpha of the DireWolf pack left the Arctic Castle, he promised Daemon come one day, he would tell him how his mother had passed, so Daemon could avenge the gaping hole that had always existed in his childhood due to a loss he never witnessed for himself.

But in return, Daemon must raise to heights unimaginable. He must gather enough power for whatever it was that he would eventually face was also an unimaginable power... a power so vast that the Arctic North alone couldn’t fight against it.

Young Daemon, confused boy he was back then, wondered what sort of power was so mighty that even his father’s kingdom could not surpass it. But his uncle had been unsmiling as he spewed those words, which meant the man was hardly joking.

In return for Daemon’s rise, his uncle promised that he would finally tell Daemon what was the great power he was to fight against... the same power that killed his mother.

So uncle and nephew thus exchanged a promise; one that was binded in familial blood.

In Daemon’s pursuit for his eventual rise, he didn’t know whether it was a web of emotional entanglements that he couldn’t understand that propelled him, or if it was just a technical drive for vengeance. Perhaps it was a combination of the both, but it didn’t matter to him. No, all that mattered was that this was a vengeance that he would take come rain come sunshine. It was afterall a vengeance that he had lived and breathed for for twenty-eight years of his existence.

He had done many things to fulfil his quest for vengeance; whether it was to act like a mindless puppet to his late father, or whether it was to accept his banishment from the Arctic North and endure a war that wasn’t his to fight for in the first place.

"All of the Arctic North will soon be mine... actually, it’s already mine... has always been," Daemon said while taking careful steps towards his uncle whose frail body was thrusted on a chair. From his peripheral vision, he saw Shadow slither into sight, and the man stood rooted in place, not taking a step forward.

"I’ve control over the Red Sisters of the East, the Night Mages of the North, and a vast network of spies that runs through all the five regions and seven seas. And now, I shall possess one of the biggest Pack in the whole of the South."

It was merely a summary of his accomplishments, but enough to let his uncle know how seriously he had taken the promise they made to each other all those years ago.

His uncle coughed again, and when his coughing fits receded, a smug smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "You have admirable connections to the North, East, and South I agree. But what of the Iron Coast of the West? And the Central dominated by the Matriarchy?"

"I agree I have no deep connections to the West which is a failure on my own part. But as for the Central, I at least possess a woman who is invaluable to the Matriarchy."

His uncle managed to curve an eyebrow at him in askance. "And who is that woman?"

"Zina WolfKnight, the Theta of the NorthSteed Pack, and my fated mate."

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