novelraw Chapter 116: The Threat
Chapter 116: The Threat
Leon’s POV
I sat in the dark of my study, the only light coming from the glowing embers in the fireplace. The smell of expensive bourbon and stale grief hung heavy in the air. For a week, we had lived in a waking nightmare.
The woman standing across from me was the sixth seer we had brought to the mansion. We had flown her in from the northern mountains—a woman rumored to see things even the Moon Goddess tried to hide. I didn’t care about the cost. I didn’t care about the laws of the pack. I just wanted one of them to tell me a different story.
"Tell me again," I pleaded, my voice sounding like broken glass. "Look deeper."
The Seer, a blind woman with silver hair, shook her head slowly. Her milky eyes were fixed on a spot somewhere behind me. "Alpha, I have walked through the shadows of the spirit realm for hours. I have searched for the golden thread of the girl you call Scarlett."
She paused, and the silence felt like a physical weight pressing on my chest.
"The thread is gone," she whispered, her voice filled with a pity I wanted to rip out of her throat. "The soul has crossed the veil. There is no spark left in this world. Scarlett is dead."
I threw my glass against the wall, watching it shatter into a thousand sparkling pieces. The same thing. Every single one of them said the same thing.
For seven days, we had torn the North Woods apart. We had sent out three hundred warriors to comb every inch of the ravine. We found more evidence—more blood-soaked fabric caught on thorns, a silver locket she used to wear crushed into the dirt, and the undeniable scent of her that lingered in the damp earth. Every piece of proof was like a fresh blade to my heart.
Liam hadn’t slept. He was out there now, probably digging through the mud with his bare hands, refusing to come inside. Leo was worse; he had locked himself in her room, surrounded by her scent, barely breathing.
I looked at my hands. They were trembling. The bond... that empty, hollow void where my mate used to be... it was still there. It was a constant, aching reminder that I was half a man. I had spent two years treating her like a traitor, pushing her away to protect my feelings, only to realize too late that she was the only thing worth protecting.
"You can go," I told the Seer, waving a hand toward the door. "My Beta will see that you are paid."
As she shuffled out, my father, Sir Lennox, stepped into the room. He looked tired—honestly tired—but there was a sharpness in his eyes that made my wolf growl.
"The sixth one, Leon," my father said softly, walking over to the decanter to pour himself a drink. "How many more do you need to hear it from? The mourning period must begin. The pack needs to see their Alphas lead, not crumble over a grave that isn’t even dug yet."
"She isn’t just a girl, Father," I snapped, standing up. My Alpha aura flared, but it felt weak, drained by the constant agony. "She was... she was everything."
I couldn’t say the word. I couldn’t tell him she was my mate. Not while Liam and Leo were suffering the same way. I still believed they were just hurting because they loved her, or because they were mirroring my own mate-loss pain through our triplet connection.
"The warriors found her scent near the border again today," my father continued, ignoring my outburst. "It’s fading. Soon, there will be nothing left of her but the memory. You have to accept it."
I looked out the window at the rain-soaked grounds. Somewhere out there, my brothers were dying inside, just like me. We were Alphas of the Full Moon Pack, the strongest wolves in the region, but we had been brought to our knees by a handful of rogues.
"I’ll never accept it," I whispered, more to myself than to him.
My father’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, it turned to stone. He stepped fully into the room, his shadow stretching across the floor.
"You will accept it, Leon. And you must," he said, his voice dropping into that deep, commanding tone he used when he wasn’t just my father, but a former Alpha. "I have already given the order. The warriors are going to the North Woods to force Liam back home. Tomorrow morning, at sunrise, we are holding her funeral."
The word hit me like a physical blow. "No!" I roared, slamming my fist onto the mahogany desk. "Never! No funeral! She isn’t dead!"
I knew I was lying. Every scrap of blood-stained cloth, every silent second of the broken bond, and every word from the six Seers shouted the truth at me. But if we held a funeral, it was over. If we put a casket—even an empty one—into the ground, I was admitting that the light of my life had been extinguished.
"Leon, look at yourself," Father said, walking toward me. He didn’t look angry; he looked determined. "You are a ghost. Liam is losing his mind in the woods, endangering his life, and Leo hasn’t eaten in days. This pack cannot survive three broken Alphas."
"We aren’t broken!" I hissed, though my shaking hands betrayed me.
"You are shattered," he countered sharply. "And the Elders are watching. They are already whispering that the triplets have lost their grip on reality. They are pushing for extreme measures, Leon. Either we accept her death and start the mourning period tomorrow, or the Council will force all three of you into the Lunar Asylum temple."
My blood ran cold. The Asylum wasn’t a place of worship; it was a place of isolation. It was where they sent Alphas who had lost their minds to grief or bloodlust—a high-security fortress designed to ’rest’ the mind until the wolf was suppressed. It was a cage for the mentally broken.
"Father, you wouldn’t dare," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs. "You wouldn’t send your own sons to that hellhole."
He looked me dead in the eyes, his face showing no hesitation. "Watch me. I would rather have you locked away and safe than see you three tear yourselves apart or let this pack fall to ruin because you’re chasing a dead girl’s ghost. Tomorrow. The funeral happens. You will stand there, you will wear the black, and you will say goodbye."
He turned on his heel and walked out, the heavy door slamming shut behind him.