Chapter 124
Gerald’s body ached from sitting too long in one position. His wrists throbbed beneath the coarse rope that bound him to the chair, and every shallow breath was laced with dread.
The blindfold pressed tightly across his eyes, cutting him off from the world around him. He had tried to steady himself, tried to reason with whoever these people were, but silence was the only response he had been given. And silence, in his experience, was far more dangerous
than words.
At first, he had thought this was a common robbery… people desperate for coin or supplies, thinking the former elder an easy target now that he had been stripped of rank and protection. His voice had wavered as he promised them everything he had. “If it’s ransom you want, I can tell you now, no one will pay for me,” he had babbled. “If it’s robbery, I’ll give you all I have. Please, just let me go. I’m no use to you.”
But no voice came to answer him. The stillness stretched like a blade over his neck, the weight of unseen eyes pushing him closer to despair. The silence was worse than blows–it made him imagine all the cruel possibilities that could be waiting for him. He panicked harder each time his pleas dissolved into nothing, until his throat grew raw and his chest
heaved.
Gerald had been spared once before. Alpha Alexander had sentenced him to exile instead of death. Stripped of his title, stripped of his place among the elders, stripped even of the dignity of belonging to Blood Crescent, he had been left to rot in the shadow of his former
power.
A lesser man might have been grateful to still be breathing, but for Gerald, every breath tasted of humiliation. Still, it was better than death. Better than the endless dark.
Now, as the blindfold dug into his face and the ropes cut deeper into his skin, he began to wonder if that mercy had only delayed the inevitable. He had taken refuge in a small property he had acquired years ago, tucked away from the heart of Blood Crescent.
It was little more than a token of foresight, a place he never thought he would actually need. And yet it had become his only shelter after Alexander cast him out. Even there, he had known he was not safe. The world beyond an alpha’s pack was a wilderness for every wolf- every stranger could be a threat, every shadow a reminder of enemies who remembered his face.
He hadn’t even heard them coming. Two wolves, swift and efficient, had broken into his home and dragged him from his meager safety. He had barely been given time to draw breath before the ropes burned against his skin and the world went black behind the blindfold. Since
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Chapter 124
then, he had been left to sit in silence.
Then, at last, something changed.
Claim
The blindfold was tugged free, light flooding into his aching eyes. Gerald flinched, blinking rapidly, his sight adjusting to the dim room. The ropes were cut, and his stiff limbs cried out as blood returned to them.
His first instinct was to bolt, to run without looking back, but fear rooted him to the chair. He had no idea where he was, no idea how many guarded the doors, no idea what punishment awaited if he tried.
And then his gaze fixed on the man before him.
The others…the wolves who had dragged him here…were shadows at the edges of the room. But this one stood out with terrifying clarity. He stood tall, his presence commanding without effort, his movements precise as he gestured for the others to leave. They obeyed without hesitation, slipping out of the room until only Gerald and the man remained.
Gerald swallowed hard. His instincts screamed that this was no ordinary wolf, no common raider or thief. This man carried himself like someone accustomed to power, someone who did not need to shout or threaten to be obeyed. He radiated authority the way the moon radiated light.
The man moved calmly, crossing the room to a low table. He picked up a bottle of wine and poured himself a drink, the sound of liquid hitting glass loud in the thick silence. He took his seat with an ease that made Gerald’s skin crawl. This wasn’t the posture of a man rushing toward business–it was the posture of a predator who had all the time in the world.
Gerald’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. He wanted to speak, to demand answers, to plead again for his life, but terror stilled his voice. He could sense the danger in choosing the wrong word, the wrong tone. His fear only deepened when his eyes dropped, almost unwillingly, to the man’s hand.
The ring.
It glinted faintly in the low light, but there was no mistaking the symbol carved into it–the three–eyed wolf. Gerald’s breath hitched. He knew that design. He had seen it once before, he had paid to have it forged. That ring was no imitation. This had to be the actual ring.
The man raised the glass to his lips, savoring the drink before he set it down again. Only then did his eyes meet Gerald’s. They were sharp, assessing, as though weighing every flinch, every breath. Gerald forced himself to remain still, though every nerve screamed to recoil.
The silence stretched, unbearable. Then the man finally spoke, his voice smooth, almost
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* Chapter 124
cordial, but edged with a power that made Gerald’s spine stiffen.
Claim
“Hello, Elder Gerald.” The words fell with so much weight. Whoever this man was, he knew
Gerald.
The man’s lips curved into a faint smile, though it never touched his eyes. He leaned back slightly, fingers brushing the ring as though reminding Gerald of its presence, of what it meant. His voice dropped lower, deliberate, stripping away the courtesy of the first address.
“Or should I say,” he murmured, each word slow and deep, “just Gerald?”
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