Stealing the Alpha’s Heritage

Chapter 21

"Thirty wolves stand at our gates, demanding the return of what's theirs."

Jules bursts into the medical wing, his scarred face pale with something that looks dangerously close to fear. The morning sun streaming through the windows does nothing to warm the ice forming in my veins.

The mark on my neck erupts into searing heat, as if responding to Evander's proximity. My hand flies to it instinctively, and I feel it pulse with a summons so powerful my knees buckle.

"Mama?" Kael reaches for me from his bed, his green eyes flickering with concern. "Your neck is glowing."

"The mark calls to its maker," Finn says from beside his brother, his gray eyes seeing too much as always. "The shadows say you're being pulled in two directions. They wonder which way you'll tear."

"I'm not going anywhere." I force myself to stand straight, fighting against the compulsion that screams at me to run to Evander. "Neither of you needs to worry about that."

"Assemble our warriors," Thorne commands Jules, his eyes never leaving my face. "If Evander wants a war—"

"He's not here for war." I grip the bedframe as another wave of compulsion hits, stronger this time. "He's here for me."

"Then he's going to be disappointed." Thorne moves closer, and his scent—pine and danger—momentarily drowns out the mark's pull. "You signed a contract. You're under my protection now."

"Your protection?" I laugh, but it comes out strained. "Like when you locked me in a basement?"

"That was before—"

The door crashes open. Evander stands there, and the mark on my neck burns so hot I can't suppress the gasp. He looks different—harder, his brown eyes carrying none of the warmth I remember. Behind him, I glimpse other wolves.

"Hello, Aria." His voice wraps around me like chains, and my body takes an involuntary step toward him. "I've come to take you home."

"She is home," Thorne snarls, positioning himself between us. "This is where she chose to be."

"Chose?" Evander's laugh cuts like glass. "You know the rules, Blackwood. A marked mate belongs to their Alpha."

"She rejected that mark when she ran to save her children from your inability to protect them." Thorne's accusation lands like a physical blow.

"My inability?" Evander's controlled facade cracks. "I trained for weeks to face you in combat for those boys. She's the one who couldn't wait, who had to play hero."

"Stop talking about me like I'm not standing right here!" My voice rings out sharper than intended, but it breaks through their posturing. "Evander, I'm not leaving my sons."

"Then bring them." He extends his hand toward me, and the mark pulses in response. "All three of you can return to Moonveil."

"Those are my heirs," Thorne growls. "They'll be raised in their birthpack."

"Then we have a problem." Evander's eyes flash dangerously. "Because I'm not leaving without what's mine."

"Try to take her." Thorne's claws extend. "See how far you get."

"I don't need to take her." Evander's smile turns cruel. "She'll come willingly. Won't you, Aria? The mark compels you. Fight it too long, and the pain will drive you mad."

As if to prove his point, another wave of compulsion crashes through me. This time I can't stop the whimper that escapes, my hand clutching the mark as it burns like acid.

"Mama!" Both boys cry out simultaneously. Kael's eyes flash red while shadows gather around Finn.

"I'm okay," I lie through gritted teeth. "Just give me a moment."

"You're torturing her," Thorne snarls at Evander.

"I'm calling what's mine." Evander doesn't even look at him. "Aria, stop fighting. You know you want to come to me."

"I want my children safe," I manage between waves of pain. "That's all I've ever wanted."

"Then you know what needs to happen." Evander's voice drops to something almost gentle. "Ancient law, Blackwood. I formally challenge you for rights to Aria and her offspring."

"My offspring," Thorne corrects with deadly emphasis.

"Semantics." Evander shrugs. "Do you accept the challenge or forfeit your claim?"

"Papa, what's happening?" Kael asks, his small hands clenched into fists.

"Nothing you need to worry about, little wolf." Thorne's voice gentles for a moment before hardening again. "I accept your challenge, Evander. Ancient rite of dominance. The winner takes everything—Aria, the boys, everything."

"No!" The word tears from my throat. "You don't get to gamble with my children's lives!"

"It's already done," Evander says, backing toward the door. "Three days hence, neutral ground. Bring your seconds and say your goodbyes."

He leaves, but the mark continues burning, a constant reminder of his claim. I stumble from the medical wing, needing space, needing air, needing something other than two Alphas treating me like a prize.

My feet carry me to the detention level before I consciously decide where I'm going. The guards step aside without question—Thorne must have authorized my access.

Rowena sits in her cell, looking older than I've ever seen her. Her silver hair hangs limp, her proud shoulders curved with defeat. When she sees me, something flickers in her eyes—surprise, perhaps, or hope.

"Come to gloat?" Her voice carries only exhaustion.

"I came for the truth." I grip the bars. "The real truth about this curse. All of it."

"Why would I tell you anything?" She doesn't move from her cot.

"Because despite everything, you love those boys." I study her face. "And if there's even a chance of saving them both, you'll take it."

Silence stretches between us before she finally stands, moving to an apparently empty corner of her cell. She pulls out a leather journal hidden behind loose stones.

"This belonged to my great-grandmother." She passes it through the bars. "She was the first to document the curse properly, to understand its true nature."

"Why didn't you show this before?" I open the journal carefully, its pages brittle with age.

"Because knowing the truth makes it worse." Rowena returns to her cot. "The curse isn't random, Aria. It's designed. Engineered by something ancient that feeds on Blackwood power."

"What do you mean, feeds?" My fingers trace the delicate script on the pages.

"Every generation that produces twins, one dies to fuel the curse's continuation." Her voice drops. "The surviving twin becomes unnaturally powerful, but that power comes from consuming their sibling's potential."

"There has to be a way to break it." I scan through pages of observations, testimonies, death records.

"If there is, it's not in that journal." Rowena lies back on her cot. "But the main library has other texts—older ones, from before the Blackwood line was cursed. Maybe something there could help."

I leave without another word, clutching the journal like a lifeline. The library stretches before me, three floors of accumulated pack knowledge.

For two days, I barely sleep. Every spare moment not spent with the twins is devoted to research. I pull books on bloodline curses, ancient rites, and twin bonds. The mark burns constantly, Evander's call growing stronger as the challenge approaches, but I push through the pain.

"You haven't eaten since yesterday." Thorne appears beside my table, setting down a tray of food.

"I'm not hungry." I don't look up from the text I'm translating. "This manuscript mentions something about balanced energy between twins—if we could find a way to equalize their power—"

"Aria." His hand covers the page. "You're going to make yourself sick."

"My boys are cursed to kill each other." I finally meet his eyes. "Being sick is the least of my concerns."

"The challenge is tomorrow." His jaw tightens. "Afterward, whoever wins, we'll have time to figure this out together."

"Together?" I laugh bitterly. "You mean after you or Evander own me like property?"

"I meant as parents trying to save our sons." He pulls back, and for once, I see genuine hurt in his eyes.

"Thorne—"

"Keep researching." He turns away. "I'll make sure you're not disturbed."