Chapter 209
In Chains
Night and day seemed to stretch longer than they should have as Zander followed the spell he had placed on Rett, tracking him effortlessly wherever he went.
Dark clouds smothered the sky above the ravine where Cain and Rett had built their hideout, a jagged nest of stone and shadow carved into the mountainside. The low hum of ancient magic pulsed through the air, thick and oppressive, as if the mountain itself was holding its breath.
Zander stood at the mouth of the cavern, his cloak fluttering faintly despite the still air. His eyes glowed as he surveyed the place. He had expected resistance. He had expected traps.
But he had not expected this.
The magic layered across the hideout was old. Older than most covenants. It crawled across the walls like living veins, pulsing slowly, greedily, feeding on something buried deep within the stone.
“Interesting,” Zander murmured under his breath.
Behind him, his men moved silently, forming a wide arc around the entrance. They were seasoned warriors and mages, loyal not just by oath but by belief. Each of them could feel it too. The wrongness. The corruption clinging to this place.
“This isn’t ordinary dark magic,” Arlan said quietly, stepping beside him. “It’s ancient. Rooted. Like it was summoned and then… fed.”
Zander nodded once. “Cain never had the talent for this on his own.”
That realization sharpened his focus.
With a single gesture, Zander raised his hand. The air trembled. Light flared. The protective barrier around the hideout cracked like glass, splintering outward before dissolving completely. A deep, guttural roar echoed from within.
And then chaos erupted.
Cain’s followers rushed out first, weapons drawn, eyes wild with desperation. They fought viciously, recklessly, as if they knew there would be no escape. Zander’s men met them head-on, spells and steel colliding in flashes of light and shadow.
The battle raged for hours.
Rett was the first to fall.
He emerged from the inner chamber roaring, his body warped by dark enchantments that twisted his limbs and eyes into something barely recognizable. He fought like a beast, unthinking, consumed by rage. But rage alone was never enough.
Zander faced him personally.
With calculated precision, he dismantled Rett’s defenses, unraveling the magic stitched into his flesh. One binding spell. One severing strike. Rett collapsed onto the stone floor, screaming as the dark magic abandoned him, leaving nothing but a broken man behind.
Cain lasted longer.
Much longer.
He stood at the heart of the hideout, surrounded by symbols carved into the ground in blood and ash. His eyes glowed an unnatural red as he hurled spell after spell, drawing power from something unseen. The mountain groaned under the strain.
Zander felt it then.
Something was answering Cain’s call.
“Where did you get this power?” Zander demanded, deflecting a blast of shadow with a flick of his wrist. “Who taught you?”
Cain only laughed, a sound cracked with madness. “You think I’d tell you? You think you deserve to know?”
Zander’s expression hardened. He struck. The fight between them shook the cavern. Light and darkness collided again and again, neither giving ground. But Cain was unraveling. His magic lashed wildly now, uncontrolled, tearing into the walls and ceiling. His breathing grew ragged.
By morning, it was over.
Cain lay shackled on the cavern floor, wrists bound with enchanted restraints that dulled his magic to a whisper. His followers were either dead, unconscious, or captured. The ancient symbols around him flickered and died, leaving the stone cold and empty.
Zander stood over him, unmarked, calm, eyes sharp.
“You built a pack,” Zander said flatly. “Not just followers. A true pack bonded through dark rites. Where?”
Cain turned his face away.
Silence.
Zander crouched, gripping Cain’s chin and forcing him to look up. “That kind of magic leaves scars on the land. It does not hide forever. Tell me where.”
Cain spat blood onto the stone. “I said nothing.”
Zander studied him for a long moment, then released him.
“Very well,” he said coolly. “We’ll find it without you.”
Cain laughed again, weaker this time. “You won’t matter soon anyway.”
Zander turned to leave, then paused as Cain’s voice rang out again, raw and desperate.
“I want to see my daughter.”
The words hung heavy in the air.
Zander slowly turned back.
“Althea,” Cain said firmly. “Bring her to me.”
Zander’s eyes darkened. “That is not your decision.”
“She is my daughter!” Cain shouted, straining against his restraints. “My blood. My flesh. You cannot deny that!”
Zander stepped closer, his voice dangerously calm. “She is not.”
Cain shook his head violently. “You’re lying. You’re all lying. She is mine!”
“For the Alpha King to decide,” Zander replied. “And for the truth to finish unraveling. Not you.”
Cain’s breathing turned erratic. “She must see me. She must hear me. She belongs to me!”
Zander straightened. “She belongs to no one.”
The denial broke something inside Cain.
He screamed, thrashing against the restraints, eyes blazing with delusion and refusal. “I raised her! I protected her! I gave her a name!”
“And you lied to her,” Zander said coldly. “You used her. You endangered her. And now you dare demand her presence?”
Cain fell silent, chest heaving.
The sun finally broke through the clouds, casting pale light into the ruined cavern.
Zander turned away.
“Bring them,” he ordered.
Chains rattled as Cain and the remaining prisoners were hauled to their feet. Rett was dragged behind them, barely conscious. Zander led the procession through a shimmering portal that opened at his command.
The palace courtyard was already awake when they arrived.
Uriel stood at the center, staff planted firmly against the stone, his expression the moment he caught sight of Cain. That man caused a lot of harm in their kingdom especially with his cousin Riela whom he loved as a sister.
Gamma Simon and the royal guards flanked the traitor and his followers as whispers rippled through the gathered crowd.
When the portal closed and Zander stepped forward with Cain in chains, silence fell.
Uriel’s gaze locked onto Cain. “You will await judgment here.”
Cain lifted his head, eyes wild, still searching. “Where is the Alpha King? Is he enjoying the presence of my daughter that much that he’s absent in my presence? Was he already getting rusty letting others and even magic users to hunt me down instead of him doing so?” he mocked
Uriel did not answer.
Zander spoke instead. “He will come. And when he does, this ends.”
Cain’s shoulders sagged, yet his eyes still burned with stubborn denial. “Hah? You’re an outsider,” he scoffed hoarsely. “So don’t speak as if you know anything. Althea is my daughter.” He repeated it again, like a mantra, like a shield he could hide behind. “She won’t let you harm me.”
Zander stopped. Slowly, he turned back, his expression unreadable. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t even look angry. That calm was far worse. “You speak far too freely for someone in chains,” Zander said quietly.
With a subtle flick of his fingers, magic surged. Cain stiffened as invisible pressure wrapped around his body, crushing inward. Pain slammed into him all at once, sharp and unforgiving, stealing the breath from his lungs.
Cain cried out, collapsing to his knees as the magic forced him down, his muscles locking, his veins burning as if fire ran through them. The restraints glowed faintly, amplifying the spell, ensuring he could neither fight it nor escape it.
Zander stepped closer, his voice low and cold. “You do not speak her name as if you still have a right to it.”
Cain gasped, teeth clenched, sweat breaking across his brow as the pain pulsed through him in waves.
“Remember this,” Zander continued calmly. “The only reason you are still breathing is because judgment has not yet been passed. Test that patience again… and I won’t wait for the Alpha King.”