Chapter 164: The Unfolding Truth XLIV

Third Person POV

The two girls scrambled wildly to their feet and sprinted away into the smoke.

Helen stepped directly into the heat of the battle.

She moved across the courtyard like the wild blue fire dancing on her weapon.

The kusarigama spun, flew through the air, and returned directly to her palm like a living creature that obeyed her every thought.

She threw it out wide, the flaming blade cutting clean through three enemy soldiers in a single swing before she yanked the chain to pull it back.

She swung the heavy links again, wrapping the chain tightly around a man’s neck before giving a sharp pull that brought him crashing to the hard ground.

Before his body even hit the earth, she was already moving on to the next target.

She didn’t scream out in rage, nor did she taunt the men she was fighting.

She refused to give them the satisfaction of seeing her anger. She just killed them.

One after another, she cut them down.

The brilliant blue flame illuminated the dark battlefield, casting strange, dancing shadows against the pack house walls, making her look like a terrifying creature that had crawled straight out of an old bedtime legend.

The enemy soldiers who saw her walking toward them turned and tried to run away in fear.

The ones who were not fast enough to run simply died where they stood.

She did not feel the heavy weight of the iron weapon in her hands. She did not feel the physical strain of the intense fighting.

She felt absolutely nothing at all except the cold, steady purpose that had taken deep root inside her chest.

These monsters had taken her daughter away from her.

They had destroyed her peace. They had shattered the beautiful, simple life she had built with her own two hands.

She would not let them take anything else.

She was so focused on the enemies in front of her that she did not see the massive explosion coming from behind.

It happened directly at her back, a sudden, blinding blast of heat, shattering stone, and agonizing screaming.

She felt the extreme heat rushing toward her skin, felt the heavy shockwave tearing across the courtyard, and knew in her mind that she would not have enough time to turn around, run away, or do anything at all to brace for the impact.

But then, something massive hit her from the side.

It was not the blast of the explosion. It was something much softer, something incredibly huge, warm, and moving faster than anything she had ever seen in her life.

The heavyweight tackled her straight to the hard ground, wrapping itself completely around her body to shield her from the debris.

The fiery explosion tore through the exact patch of air where she had been standing just a second ago.

She heard the deafening roar of the blast, felt the entire ground shake beneath her stomach, and heard the rain of broken stone crashing down all around them.

But she was not hurt at all. She was completely protected from the danger.

Something incredibly fluffy and warm was pressed tightly against her cheek.

It was a breathing, living weight. She slowly raised her head from the dirt.

A massive wolf was looking directly into her eyes.

The creature was gigantic, its thick fur as white as fresh winter snow, though it was currently matted with dark dirt and red blood that clearly did not belong to it.

Its large eyes were a brilliant, bright green color, not grey like her own, and not gold like the other shifters, but a deep green she recognized instantly.

It was the same shade of green she had woken up to see every single morning for the past six years of her life.

She had never once seen this white wolf before today.

Kai had always hidden his animal form from her.

He had been completely terrified, she realized in that sudden moment. He had been afraid that his wolf spirit would reject her because she was a different creature.

He had been terrified that the mate bond between them was not completely real because she was not his fated mate chosen by the moon.

But the magnificent white wolf was staring down at her right now.

And the wolf was not rejecting her at all.

"Kai," Helen whispered, her voice trembling as she reached a hand out to touch the soft fur.

The white wolf’s green eyes held her gaze tightly. They were soft, incredibly familiar, and filled with a deep devotion that words could never fully describe.

But then, the wolf’s massive body suddenly began to twist and contort strangely.

This was not the smooth, natural shifting process she had witnessed a hundred times before in the pack.

This looked entirely wrong. It looked like pure, unadulterated pain.

The wolf’s large legs jerked violently, its spine arched upward at an impossible angle, and its jaw opened wide as a harrowing howl tore out of its throat.

It was not a fierce battle cry, and it was not a warning to the enemy; it was a pure scream of absolute agony.

Helen scrambled wildly to her feet, her heart slamming against her ribs.

But then she saw him, stepping through the thick smoke. Across the bloody battlefield, walking slowly toward them through the fire and the bodies of the dead, came a single figure.

An old man.

He walked with slow, deliberate steps, but it was not because his old body was weak.

He walked slowly because he knew with absolute certainty that he had nothing in this world to fear.

His back was perfectly straight, and his shoulders were incredibly broad under his dark robes.

His thin, silver-grey hair was swept straight back from a high forehead that had watched centuries of history pass beneath it.

His face was heavily lined with deep wrinkles, the pale skin around his jaw sagging slightly where it had once been tight and youthful.

His eyes were a flat, cold grey color, the exact shade of heavy winter clouds right before a massive storm hits.

He looked incredibly ancient.

He looked as old as the mountains surrounding the pack lands, as old as the primitive magic that had created the very first shifters.

This was the Alpha King. This was Lysander.

Old, terrible, and powerful beyond any human measure.

He held his right hand outstretched toward the white wolf, his long fingers curled tight as if he were gripping an invisible rope that no one else in the courtyard could see.

The massive wolf convulsed violently on the ground again, letting out another high-pitched howl of pain.

Helen watched in horror as dark blood began to seep from the wolf’s ears, from its nose, and from the very corners of its green eyes.

"Let him go right now!" Helen screamed, raising her heavy kusarigama in the air, the blue flames flaring up hot.

Lysander did not stop his slow walk.

He did not lower his outstretched hand even an inch.

He simply looked over at her with those cold, flat grey eyes, and a cruel expression that looked almost like a smile tugged at the corner of his wrinkled mouth.

"Go ahead and try it, little girl," Lysander said, his voice sounding dry and grating, like rusted metal scraping against stone.

"Take one step toward me, and I will snap his spine in two pieces before you can blink."

Helen’s hand froze instantly in mid-air.

The spinning blade stopped its movement completely.

The brilliant blue flame flickered wildly, dying down to a low simmer along the chain.

"Put the weapon down on the ground," Lysander commanded, still walking forward slowly.

She did not move.

The old king stopped his steps just a few feet away from where she stood.

The massive white wolf lay directly in the dirt between them, whimpering softly now, its great body shuddering uncontrollably as its green eyes remained fixed entirely on Helen’s face.

"Put it down right now, little fox," Lysander said, his voice soft, ancient, and entirely terrifying.

"Or your beloved mate will die in the dirt before you can ever say his name again."

Helen looked down at the suffering wolf.

She looked at her Kai. She saw the dark blood staining his beautiful white fur, saw the absolute agony filling his green eyes, and watched the way his entire body was breaking under the sheer weight of the Alpha King’s invisible mental power.

Slowly, her fingers unclasped from the handle.

She lowered her arm.

The heavy iron kusarigama dropped uselessly to her side, hitting the dirt with a dull thud.

The brilliant blue magic flame guttered out completely and died, leaving the metal cold and dark.

"Good girl," Lysander said, a wide smile pulling the sagging skin around his mouth tight and ugly.

He finally stopped walking.

Helen stood entirely still in the middle of the rising smoke, the crackling fire, and the sudden, terrifying silence of the battlefield.

Her pale eyes were locked onto his ancient grey ones.

He looked back at her, completely calm and patient, like a powerful man who had already seen every single trick she could possibly try and was not impressed by her magic in the slightest.

The white wolf let out one last, fragile whimper against her boot.

But Helen did not look down. She did not look away from the king.