Chapter 232: The Mother of Wolves

Zahliver’s POV

I tilted my head slightly to the side and allowed a sharp smirk to pull at the corner of my mouth.

"There is not really much of a difference between the two titles... but you are deeply mistaken if you think it is me you will be fighting today," I took a slow step back, my gaze entirely unwavering. "Revenge does not always require my own hands to do the dirty work."

His broad brow pinched together in utter confusion, but I simply turned around toward Lexero, who casually lifted his right hand and gave a lazy wave a gesture that practically screamed pure mockery. Eccasto barked out a sudden, harsh laugh, placing both hands over his stomach like he genuinely found the whole thing hilarious. But the dangerous gleam in Lexero’s narrowed eyes said something entirely different.

He had just severely insulted a proud lion’s pride.

"Him?" Eccasto scoffed loudly and gestured dismissively toward Lexero, never even bothering to look directly at his face. "You expect me to actually fight that thing? A weak half-breed feline?" He sneered with absolute arrogance. "I will give you this much if it were you standing here, my chances would not be very great at all. But this pathetic creature?" He chuckled darkly, stabbing his finger through the air. "He cannot even manage to pull off a proper full shift."

I shook my head slowly, stepping completely out of the way of the coming storm.

Lexero’s chest rose and fell heavily, his breathing turning deep and ragged. I could clearly see the dangerous edge of his transformation beginning black claws erupted visibly from his fingertips, and his teeth lengthened rapidly behind a fierce, curled snarl. One side of his handsome face was already warping into that of a savage lion, his blinding rage distorting every single line of his features.

"Funny," I mused aloud, keeping my tone light. "I knew that your arrogant ass would never take anyone seriously unless it was me. So I simply did the one thing guaranteed to deeply get under your skin I let a very prideful lion step right into the ring. You honestly did the insulting part all by yourself." I folded my arms tightly across my chest. "And here is the kicker. He really, truly hates being told what he cannot possibly do."

I paused for a second, pretending to ponder deeply.

"As long as you had not said anything foolish about him being a half-breed, you might have actually been okay..." I clicked my tongue against my teeth. "Oh wait. Too late."

Eccasto’s cocky expression faltered instantly. I saw the exact moment that heavy realization struck him far too late. His face stiffened in shock as he whipped his head back toward Lexero, whose golden eyes were now glowing brightly with completely unleashed fury.

He whipped his head back toward me, pure rage burning hot through his gaze. "You little "

But he did not even get the chance to finish his sentence. Lexero launched himself forward with a deafening roar, hitting Eccasto so hard that both men crashed violently to the dirt in a wild blur of muscle, flashing claws, and raw, untamed power.

They tore into each other without a single moment of hesitation, but it was abundantly clear right away that Lexero had the upper hand. God or not, Eccasto simply could not match the primal fury that Lexero had just unleashed. He was not just fighting to win a simple match he was fighting to prove a point. To brutally bury every single arrogant word Eccasto had just thrown at him. To prove to the world that he was much more than just a partial shifter. That tender sore spot had been pressed far too hard.

I gave Fern a short nod, silently signaling him to stay right here and keep a careful watch over the fight just in case things got out of hand. But truthfully, I deeply doubted he would ever need to intervene. Lexero’s raw fury was going to leave Eccasto broken in ways that no formal punishment I could ever deliver would ever match.

Like I said true revenge does not always require your own hands.

Without sparing another glance back at the brawling pair, I turned around and made my swift way toward the towering temple, my senses sharply focused in case anyone else dared to block my path. The massive double doors stood slightly open, revealing smooth, cream-colored marble walls beyond and branching corridors that stretched like dark veins through the sacred, quiet space.

I stepped inside silently, my eyes scanning the shadows for any movement.

That precise moment was when her familiar scent suddenly hit my nose.

Warm. Mischievous. And entirely familiar.

Vivian.

A sudden surge of hot heat raced straight through my chest, my protective instincts chasing closely behind it. I followed her distinct scent down a long, dimly lit corridor, my heart pounding hard with a heavy mixture of dark anticipation and fierce fury. I did not bother to knock politely when I finally reached the heavy, dark-wood door at the end. I kicked it open forcefully without a single second of hesitation, stepping into the room like I owned the gods-damned place.

Because I did. Or I very soon would.

And nothing not even fate itself was going to keep her away from me.

There she was, lounging lazily on a plush couch like she owned the entire cosmos. Her silver hair cascaded like liquid silver down her back, and her pitch-black eyes gleamed with that ageless, cryptic amusement. A large bowl of white popcorn rested comfortably in her lap, her dainty fingers picking lazily at it as if the entire universe outside was not currently unraveling into total chaos. Mother Luna graceful, poised, and frustratingly unbothered by everything happening around her.

Her delicate facial features were so pristine they almost felt entirely unreal, like fragile porcelain kissed softly by moonlight. If she stood up right then, I had no doubt her striking curves would instantly command complete attention. But I did not care about any of that. I was not here to admire her divine beauty or engage in polite small talk.

I actually had no personal grudge against her. She had wisely kept her safe distance all those long years I served in agonizing silence down under the Council. But if she was hiding Fate right now if she even dared to stand in my way I would not hesitate for a second. Family or not, divine or not, she would not be spared my wrath.

"Where is he, Luna?" I asked, my tone sharp, cold, and entirely direct.

She blinked slowly at me, her pitch-black eyes remaining completely unreadable. Instead of answering my urgent question, she reached lazily into the bowl, popped a few fluffy kernels into her mouth, and chewed them with an exaggerated, maddening slowness. The simple motion... it strangely reminded me of someone else. Someone far too close to my heart.

When she finally chose to speak, her voice sounded light and almost amused. "Well, hello to you too, Zahliver. It has been quite a while, has it not? How have you been doing?" Her dark eyes swept slowly over my armored body like she was examining a dusty old painting in a museum. "Never mind. There is really no need for you to answer that you look... slightly occupied."

She rose to her feet with fluid, effortless grace, casually brushing some imaginary dust off her fine skirt. I did not bother letting her annoy me. Even my inner beast stayed surprisingly quiet, totally disinterested in playing her endless mind games.

"Luna," I repeated, my voice dropping lower into a dangerous tone edged with a heavy warning. "Where is he?"

She exhaled softly through her nose, then gestured with her hand for me to follow her. "Come along then. And just for the record, I am simply not choosing sides in this stupid war. But you should just remember for next time when people you cannot stand try to warn you about something, it might actually be worth your time to listen."

My dark eyes narrowed sharply down at her. "What on earth are you talking about?"

But she just cut me off with a soft mutter and another mouthful of popcorn. "Now he suddenly wants to listen to advice."

I followed her steps deeper into the ancient temple, the heavy air growing noticeably thicker and warmer with every single step we took. The ambient energy here shifted strangely. It felt vaguely familiar yet... deeply unsettling. We were officially entering Fate’s private, restricted wing. I instantly recognized the polished obsidian walls and the faint golden runes glowing softly along the stonework. He never let a single soul into this private area. Ever. There were always heavy guards, complex magical barriers, and deadly seals protecting it but right now? Absolutely nothing. Not even a faint whisper of magical protection.

That eerie silence only made me feel much more suspicious.