The assassin said nothing. His jaw clenched, sweat beading down his face.
Lucien tilted his head slightly, studying him like a predator does prey. Then, with a flick of his hand, he motioned to one of the guards. The man stepped forward, drawing a dagger laced with wolfsbane.
Rowan raised an eyebrow. "You're not going to kill them, are you?"
Lucien's gaze flicked up briefly. "Not unless they make me."
He turned back to the prisoner. "Tell me who sent you, and your death will be quick."
Silence.
Lucien gave a faint, humorless smile, the kind that promised pain rather than mercy. "No? Then let's see how long your pride lasts."
He nodded once, and the guard pressed the wolfsbane blade against the assassin's shoulder. The man hissed in agony, his skin blistering where the blade touched. The smell of burnt flesh filled the chamber.
After a moment, the assassin choked out, "You… you don't understand…"
Lucien's expression didn't change. "Then help me."
The man coughed, trembling, his voice hoarse. "We were… ordered to retrieve the boy. Not kill him."
Rowan's eyes narrowed. "Retrieve?"
The assassin nodded weakly. "Alive… the employer wanted him alive. Said the Ravenmoon heir carries something… valuable. Something that doesn't belong to your pack."
Lucien's jaw tightened, his expression unreadable. "Who gave that order?"
The man hesitated.
"We never saw the client. Everything was through a masked handler. But… the payment..." He gasped as the poison burned deeper. "The payment bore the crest… of Redstone Pack."
The room fell utterly silent.
Rowan straightened immediately.
"Redstone?" His tone was sharp, disbelieving. "The same pack that exiled that omega boy?"
Lucien's eyes darkened. "Yes."
He stood slowly, his towering frame casting a long shadow over the bound men. His voice dropped lower, quiet, but heavy enough to crush the air itself.
"Burn the bodies. I want their handler found. Redstone wouldn't dare act openly unless they were desperate… or hiding something."
Rowan nodded grimly. "What about the rogue? Devon?"
Lucien paused. His expression softened just slightly, a rare flicker of thought behind his otherwise impassive face.
"Keep him under watch," he said finally. "If Redstone's name is involved, I want to know why he ended up in our forest that night."
Rowan's brow furrowed. "You think the attack and his arrival aren't a coincidence?"
Lucien looked toward the cell door, the torches reflecting in his cold silver eyes.
"No," he said simply. "In my experience, fate rarely wastes effort on coincidence."
He turned, the command final. "Double the guard around my son. And make sure the rogue lives. I have questions only he can answer."
As Lucien left the dungeon, Rowan stayed behind for a moment, staring down at the branded corpses of the assassins. He couldn't shake the feeling that everything was connected, the exiled omega, the heir's strange attachment, and now this.
"Redstone," he murmured under his breath, frowning. "What in the goddess's name are you playing at?"
The torches guttered, and the air grew colder, as if the shadows themselves were listening. When consciousness returned, it came in fragments, muffled sounds, dull pain, and the faint smell of herbs and smoke.
Devon blinked slowly, his vision swimming into focus. The ceiling above him was unfamiliar, carved wood, dark and polished, with faint runic symbols etched along the beams. He tried to sit up, but a sharp ache tore through his arm and chest, forcing him back onto the bed.
His breathing was shallow. Every muscle throbbed. Then he noticed them, two guards standing near the door, their hands resting on their weapons. Their eyes were not hostile, but alert. Watchful.
Guarded.
Devon's heart sank. He was in one of the manor's guest chambers, but the air felt heavy, tense. His mind flashed back to the night, the assassins, the light, Elias's cry. The strange power that had flared through his veins like wildfire.
He swallowed hard.
"The boy…" His voice came out rough, barely a whisper. "Elias… is he..."
One of the guards shifted slightly.
"The young master is safe," he said curtly. "Rest. The Alpha will see you soon."
Devon's shoulders slumped in relief. He leaned back, staring at the ceiling again. But relief quickly turned to unease.
The Alpha.
Lucien Hale.
Of all people, why would he come personally?
The thought gnawed at him, but he didn't have long to dwell. Moments later, the door opened, quietly, but with unmistakable authority.
Lucien entered.
He was dressed in black, his usual composure wrapped around him like armor. His eyes, cold and unreadable, swept across the room before landing on Devon. The faintest trace of exhaustion marked his face, but it did nothing to dull his commanding presence.
The guards immediately bowed their heads. "Alpha."
Lucien gave a short nod. "Leave us."
The men obeyed without question, stepping out and closing the door behind them. Silence followed.
Devon's throat went dry. He forced himself to sit up, wincing slightly. "Alpha… forgive me, I..."
Lucien raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence. "You should be resting, Devon Albert."
The sound of his full name startled him. The Alpha's voice carried it with unsettling precision, like a weapon carefully drawn.
Lucien crossed the room, stopping by the foot of the bed. He regarded Devon quietly, eyes sharp, searching.
"You nearly died protecting my son," he said after a pause. "Again."
Devon looked down, unable to meet that piercing gaze. "It was nothing, Alpha. Anyone would've done the same."
Lucien's tone cooled. "No. Not anyone."
The words hung in the air. Devon glanced up, confused, but Lucien continued before he could speak.
"My guards found four assassins in your room. Three dead, one barely breathing. You were bleeding out, yet they tell me you were the one who stopped them. Alone."
Devon's lips parted, but no words came.
Lucien took a slow step closer. The faint scent of pine and steel filled the air.
"You were seen wielding something… unnatural," he said quietly. "A light that burned through their blades and sealed you and my son in a barrier. Wolves do not possess such abilities."
Devon froze.
Lucien's gaze hardened. "So tell me, Devon... what are you?"