Chapter 672 - I’m still interested in your underground fortress

Chapter 672: Chapter 672 - I’m still interested in your underground fortress

The silence stretched between them, thin and brittle as a spider’s web. Ravyn waited, his patience a blade held in check. Then Battal’s voice returned, slower now, as if each word had to be dragged from some deep, reluctant place.

"You werewolves live in packs, so you assume it’s the same for other creatures."

Ravyn kept quiet, offering no interruption, no encouragement. Just the weight of his silence pressing against the line, demanding more.

"We Lycans love to live normal lives as humans the moment we complete our training, and due to our ruling the mafia, our strength becomes an advantage to us," Battal continued. "But don’t get me wrong. We still return to perform our duties to our root. We move between both worlds"

Ravyn’s brow furrowed. He leaned against the rough stone wall of the training ground, the cool surface a sharp contrast to the heat still radiating from his skin.

"Instead of a pack, we live in an underground fortress." Battal’s tone turned confident, something almost proud threading through the words. "It would take you months to learn your way around. But before you even enter, there’s a protector at the entrance. The moment he lets you in, that protector would never let you out."

Ravyn’s eyes narrowed. The words settled into his gut like stones. "Why so?"

Battal started to answer, but Ravyn pushed on, his voice hardening. "Your people visited my pack. Some also visited the Silver Moon pack. What you’re telling me now makes me feel like I’ve been cheated."

"You have to understand," Battal cut in, his tone defensive, "I never forced my men into your pack. King Jaron asked for my help, and I offered it with a clean conscience."

Ravyn’s teeth ground together at the mention of that name. The sound was audible even through the phone. "Well, he’s gone back to the title of an Alpha."

"Thanks for reminding me." A dark edge crept into Battal’s voice. "Do you know what your new king did to him?"

Ravyn’s grip on the phone tightened, his knuckles bleaching white. He knew exactly what Battal was doing, trying to stoke the embers of hatred in his chest but too bad it wasn’t going to work. "What did he do?"

"Right in front of me, he dismembered his own kind. An elder, and left him to rot. I won’t be surprised if he does the same to you, and that’s why I need your loyalty. I can send you a protector, and with our powerful wolf, that king would not be a match," Battal’s voice dripped with revulsion, each word a careful jab.

"I had to send one of my men to deliver the remains of Alpha Jaron to his pack. He wasn’t allowed to enter, though. The warriors took him at the border. That’s when I understood. The new king is tightening security around the packs."

Ravyn said nothing. He knew what Voren was capable of and wasn’t surprised.

"I have no problem with that," Battal added, his voice smoothing into something almost reasonable. "All I want is the crown that was ours to begin with."

Ravyn’s lips pressed into a thin line. But his curiosity burned hotter than his disgust. "I’m still interested in your underground fortress. Can’t I visit? Like a tour?"

"You can," Battal answered.

A grin tugged at the corner of Ravyn’s mouth, but it was short-lived due to Battal’s next words.

"But that would be our human pack. We call it the factory. That’s where we manufacture weapons. It’s open to the public for excursions because it’s a legal business with permits from the human government."

The grin vanished from Ravyn’s face, and his jaw tightened. Of course. Nothing with these people was ever simple.

The silence that followed was heavy, suffocating. Battal seemed to feel it, because his next words came quickly, almost anxious. "If you don’t want the title of a don, I can think of another compensation. But I’ll have to meet with my elders first."

"Do that." Ravyn’s voice was cool, controlled even. "And I’ll be thinking about your offer too. But knowing the identity of the witch in question would make me decide whether or not it’s worth it."

He pushed off the wall, pacing now, boots crunching against the gravel. "Besides, the Grimroot pack isn’t like ordinary packs. If she isn’t a werewolf, she won’t be allowed into the pack even if she shows up with me. And if she is..." He let the implication hang. "I’m wondering how she’ll succeed at it."

He ended the call before Battal could respond.

For a long moment, Ravyn stood there, phone clutched in his hand, breath coming in slow, measured pulls. Then he scrolled to Voren’s name and pressed call.

The conversation that followed was clipped, efficient. Ravyn laid out everything, Battal’s offer, the underground fortress, the witch, the risk. When he finished, there was a beat of silence on the other end. Then Voren’s voice came through, warm with something that sounded almost like relief.

"Thank you for the information." A hint of a smile colored his words. "And just as you said, let’s find out the identity of the witch. Sera might be the only one to recognize her if she’s the one we’re looking for."

Ravyn’s chest tightened. Voren used to be transparent with him but now, there were walls where there used to be bridges, and Ravyn could feel the distance stretching between them like a widening canyon. He couldn’t allow himself to be kept in the dark. Not now. Not with so much at stake.

"Can you tell me about this witch?"

"Yeah." Voren’s voice was steady, but there was something beneath it, something sharp and cold. "She’s the one your sweet Daisy used to wipe Sera’s memories of me."

The silence that followed was deafening.

Ravyn stood frozen, the phone pressed hard against his ear, his heart thudding against his ribs. The world seemed to tilt beneath his feet.

Voren knew how to strike the right nerve.