My Alpha Bled Me for My Twin Chapter 08
I left Silas on the wrong side of the door, letting him be swallowed by the howling blizzard.
Barely a month passed before a monumental scandal tore through the lycan packs like wildfire.
The so–called “supreme pureblood” pup that Elara had desperately given birth to was forced into a grotesque shift on its first full moon.
Except, it didn’t transform into a majestic wolf. It degenerated into a foul–smelling, malformed abomination–the true manifestation of wild, rabid Rogue blood, complete with clouded, erratic eyes.
The truth was glaringly obvious. There was no noble border–guard lineage in that child.
Years ago, during her time in the kidnappers‘ camp, her bloodline had been irreparably polluted by a rabid Rogue. That dark taint had festered in her barren womb.
Now, despite her desperate attempts to breed a pure- blood heir, the child she finally produced was nothing but a corrupted mutation born from that ancient filth.
Her facade of the fragile, pure white wolf was utterly shattered.
Humiliated and enraged, her mate issued a brutalformal rejection, unilaterally severing their bond and tossing her onto the streets like soiled rags.
And my parents? The very people who had conspired with Silas, setting a trap to physically rip the wolf from my soul just to secure a “superior Alpha grandson“?
They stared at the monstrous rabid pup they had sacrificed everything to protect, realizing they had become the ultimate laughingstock of the High Council.
They felt zero remorse for what they had done to me. All they felt was the bitter sting of a failed investment.
To save face and salvage whatever political standing they had left, they banished Elara and her vile pup from the Crescent Territory, discarding her like a diseased stray.
But Elara was never going to get the chance to simply fade into the wastelands.
According to the Shadow Coven’s intelligence network, a thoroughly unhinged Silas charged into the wilds that very night.
He dragged Elara by the hair like a slaughtered animal, leaving a bloody trail all the way back to the ruined altar–the very slaughterhouse where they had gutted my wolf spirit.
To “prove his atonement,” Silas spent two agonizing weeks subjecting her to the most barbaric torture imaginable.
Using dark–silver blades to suppress her innate healing, he repeatedly cracked open her sternum and sliced her veins, meticulously draining the dirty blood that had thrived on my sacrifice.
Amidst her endless, mind–shattering screams, Silas plunged his bare hands into the depths of her soul, forcefully ripping out the wolf spirit they had grafted into her years ago.
The climax arrived a fortnight later, when the Coven intercepted an open, top–tier underworld bounty posted by Silas.
Because the pup had been exposed as a Rogue abomination, the original succession contract was rendered instantly void under pack law.
With the territory rights reverting entirely back to his hands, Silas attached a blood–signed transfer deed for ninety percent of the Obsidian lands to the bounty.
By the time I arrived at the freezing altar, flanked by heavily armed Coven mercenaries, Silas looked like a walking corpse.
At his feet lay Elara, bound in suffocating dark–silver chains. Her chest was a mutilated ruin of flesh and bone, her breath nothing more than the rattling gasp of a dying creature.
“Aria… you came.”
Silas stumbled toward me like a desperate fanatic, his scarlet eyes pleading. In his trembling hands, he cupped a blood–soaked orb radiating a faint, dying silver light.
“Look. I dragged it out of her. I got your spirit back. Everything can be fixed! Accept me as your mate again. We can leave the packs behind, cross the ocean, and start over. Please!”
I looked down at him from where I stood, my expression completely void of pity.
“Look closely at what you’re holding, Silas. It’s tainted. Drained dry by the filthy blood of a rabid Rogue. What you shattered can never be pieced back together.”
The moment the words left my lips, the dense forest surrounding the ruined altar erupted in blinding crimson runic light.
The heavy, synchronized thudding of armored boots shook the earth. The elite Enforcers of the High Lycan Council tightened their impenetrable perimeter.
I had already sealed his fate, handing over indisputable evidence of forbidden dark magic, unlawful torture, and high treason to the supreme pack authorities. My only intent was to pull him up bythe roots.
Hearing the Alpha Enforcers‘ roars closing in, Silas stared into my unflinching, remorseless eyes.
The horrific realization finally dawned on him: the mate he had deeply loved and profoundly wronged had chillingly orchestrated his execution.
An ocean of explosive regret and an agonizing, absolute despair finally snapped the last thread of his sanity.
“I’m sorry, Aria,” he whispered, a tragic, broken smile ghosting across his lips. “This is… my final atonement.”
Without a second of hesitation, Silas unsheathed his claws and drove them violently into his own chest.
With a sickening crunch, he crushed his wolf core.
Boom!
A catastrophic blast of raw, destabilized Alpha energy detonated at the center of the altar.
His massive body ruptured in a shockwave of blood and silver dust. Elara, clinging to her fragile last breath at his feet, was instantly incinerated.
Both of them were reduced to nothing but ash, swept away into the abyss by the biting winter wind, By the time the confirmation reached the hidden fortress of the Shadow Coven, I was standing on the balcony of the highest stone tower, overlooking the endless expanse of the Black Forest.
“Aria, the Alpha of the Obsidian Pack… Silas is confirmed dead by self–destruction,” my mercenary captain reported, handing me the blood–specked territory deed. “The Shadow Coven has validated the contract. The vast resources of the Obsidian lands are now under your absolute control.”
I gently swirled the warm red wine in my crystal goblet, my eyes tranquil.
“Understood,” I said smoothly. “Send the vanguard to secure the borders. Divert their resources to build the new sanctuary. Tonight, we grant entry to the next caravan of Omega refugees.”
“Yes!”
I tilted my head back and finished the wine in a single, elegant draft.
The freezing wind whipped my hair as I watched the golden rim of the sun break over the distant horizon, my fingertips lightly brushing the smooth skin of my neck.
No hypocritical mating mark. No parasitic family. Without them tying me down, this world of magic and power felt infinitely vast.
The era of the witch had only just begun.
THE END