My Alphas' Dark Desires

Chapter 373 373: Amber to Blue

"Mom?" he repeated, his small voice trembling. "Mom, what's wrong?"

She didn't answer.

Her face contorted in a way that was hard to recognize: her once-gentle eyes had turned hollow, and dark veins stood out under her skin.

Then, without any warning, she lunged forward and grabbed his throat with her hands.

I gasped, my own throat tightening in reflex. "Dristan…"

The boy beneath her struggled, clawing at her wrists. "Stop! Mom… please!" His small body jolted as faint sparks of lightning crackled from his fingertips, but the energy only made her scream louder. The sound was distorted, no longer sounding human.

"Please, stop!" he cried again, voice breaking.

Beside me, Dristan's hand clenched around mine so tightly it hurt. His jaw was set, and it was hard to read his expression. "She wasn't herself," he said in a low voice. "It was… like a curse… an old one. I didn't know then."

In the memory, his mother staggered back, clutching her head as she screamed. "Make it stop!" she begged, her voice flickering between her own and something darker. "Please, Dristan, make it stop!"

The young boy shook his head violently, tears streaking down his cheeks. "I can't! I don't know how!" He sobbed. "Mom, please…"

Her body spasmed, her eyes rolling back before snapping open again, glowing with that same unnatural black shimmer. She lunged forward.

I tried to grab her, to stop her, but my hands passed through her like mist. I couldn't touch anything here; I could only watch. Only feel.

"Dristan!" I shouted helplessly, but my voice was swallowed by the void.

His mother's hand shot toward the nightstand, grabbing a dagger. She screamed, tears mixing with rage. "Please, forgive me!" she cried, right before she drove it downward to kill little Dristan.

Instinct took over. The young Dristan caught her wrist midair, trying to hold her back… trying to fight her off.

He managed to twist her hand a bit to move the sharp edge away from him, but as he tried to push her off, she lunged again, pressing into him. And the blade…

Went straight into her chest.

I froze.

She let out a gasp.

The sound was small, almost gentle, compared to the chaos seconds before. Her body stilled, her eyes wide as she looked down at the dagger buried deep in her heart.

"No…" The word came out of him in a whisper. Then louder. "No, no, no, Mom! I didn't mean to… Mom, please…"

He caught her before she fell, his small body cradling her trembling body in his arms. Tears streaked his face as lightning flickered uncontrollably around them.

"Mom, please! I promise, I didn't mean to… I didn't… I was… I was just…" More tears streaked down his cheeks as he held her tighter. "Stay with me, Mom."

Her hand lifted weakly, smearing some blood as she brushed off tears on his cheek. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice suddenly becoming calm. "And I'm sorry."

Her fingers slipped away… and she went still.

There was a moment of silence, almost like the world paused for a few seconds. Then…

"NOOOOO!!!!"

Dristan's scream suddenly filled my mind through the memory. It was so raw and broken that it sent chills down my spine. It was terrifying.

The lightning around him exploded, shattering the small room into fragments of light. His eyes glowed a violent amber as energy poured out of him, wild and destructive.

"ARRRRGGGHHHH!"

I watched as the amber color of his eyes flickered like a dying flame and faded, lighting up and flickering. Then, when he closed his eyes and opened them again, they were… blue. Cold, icy blue.

He let out another roar, and then everything went silent.

The older Dristan beside me stood still, breathing hard. His hand was trembling slightly in mine, though he didn't seem to notice.

I could barely speak. My chest ached like the pain was my own. "You were just a kid," I whispered.

He didn't answer immediately.

His gaze stayed fixed on the fading image of his younger self kneeling over his mother's body. "I killed her," he said finally in a hollow voice. "By accident, yeah… but it doesn't matter. I still did it."

"You didn't have a choice," I said quickly. "She was cursed, you said it yourself…"

"She asked me to stop her," he interrupted in a sharp tone, then softened again. "And I couldn't. I didn't know how. I lost control. And that…" He exhaled shakily. "That's the day my power changed. My lightning turned blue. Dead magic, my father called it."

I swallowed hard. "Dead magic?"

He nodded. "It feeds on emotion. Pain. Grief. It's the only kind I have left."

I didn't know what to say. The void around us was starting to dim, the memory fading like smoke, but the ache in my chest stayed.

"She saved you," I said quietly.

His eyes flicked to me. "What?"

"She saved you," I repeated. "She asked you to stop her because she didn't want to hurt you. Even dying… she thanked you, Dristan."

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he turned away. "You shouldn't have seen this."

"Maybe I should," I said, stepping closer. "Because now I finally understand why you are the way you are."

His gaze snapped back to me, emotion flickering in those mismatched eyes. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"That you're not cold, Dristan. You're terrified."

His jaw tightened. "I'm not…"

"You are," I said softly. "Terrified of losing control again. Terrified of hurting someone you…"

He stepped closer, cutting me off. "Don't."

"Someone you care about," I finished anyway.

For a second, neither of us spoke. The silence was heavy, charged. The flickering memories around us had dimmed completely, leaving only us in the vast emptiness.

His breath brushed against my face when he finally spoke. "You shouldn't look at me like that."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like you see something worth saving."

Before I could respond, the world began to blur again. The light around us twisted, the void spinning faster until everything went white.

I gasped and opened my eyes to see that I was back in his room, lying on his bed, clothes soaked in sweat, heart pounding.

Dristan was standing at the edge of the bed, head lowered, hands clenched into fists. The blue in his left eye still faintly glowed.

I sat up slowly. "Dristan…"

He didn't move.

"Now you know," he said finally.

I swallowed, the ache in my chest tightening. "Dristan…" My voice came out soft and uncertain. "I didn't know. I'm sorry you had to go through all that."

His head lifted slowly, his eyes catching the dim light. "Don't," he said. "Don't apologize. You didn't do anything."

"I just—"

"It wasn't your fault," he said again, this time more firmly. "It was his." His jaw flexed, a muscle ticking at the side of his face. "My father."

I frowned slightly, sitting up straighter. "Your father?"

He nodded once, bitter amusement curling at his lips. "He wanted me to be stronger. Always. Said weakness would destroy me one day. He started training me before I could even control my magic. Every bruise, every scar, it was a lesson. Every loss was fuel. He thought pain would make me unbreakable." His voice grew quieter. "Guess he got what he wanted."

"Why?" I asked, though the question came out more like a whisper.

He exhaled, finally looking at me. "Because he believed a war was coming. Between the packs… the species… everything. He said I'd have to be the kind of weapon that couldn't hesitate." His gaze dropped again. "But I did hesitate. When it mattered most."

The guilt in his tone made my throat tighten. I slid closer, the sheets rustling under me. "You were just a child," I said gently. "No one should have expected that from you."

He didn't say anything; he just stood there, tense and distant, as if he were afraid to make a move.

I reached for his wrist, fingers brushing against his skin. His pulse was fast, uneven. "Come here," I whispered.

He hesitated.

"Please, Dristan."

After a few seconds, he finally moved. Slowly, cautiously, like someone stepping into unfamiliar territory.

I guided him until he sat beside me on the edge of the bed. Then, without giving him a chance to pull away, I wrapped my arms around him.

He froze.

His body was tense at first, but I held on tighter, resting my cheek against his chest. "I'm sorry," I murmured again. "For what happened. For what it made you."

His breath hitched faintly. "You don't have to…"

"I know," I said, cutting him off softly. "But I want to."

For a long moment, he didn't move.

Then, slowly, his arms came around me. His hand rested on the small of my back, the warmth of his palm bleeding through the fabric of my shirt.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward. It was heavy, yes, but not unbearable. It was full of everything neither of us could say.

I felt him exhale against my hair. "You shouldn't see me like this," he muttered. "Weak."

I pulled back just enough to meet his gaze. "You're not weak, Dristan. You're only surviving."