With a smug bounce in his step, he descended into the dungeon—only to freeze in place the mont he caught sight of the open cell gate from a distance. His heart skipped a beat. At first, he assud the guards had simply forgotten to close it in their panic while rushing the healer to the pack hospital. After all, Addison was bound in silver and far too weak to move, let alone escape.
But then—Gamma Levi’s face flashed in his mind.
Greg’s eyes narrowed, and his casual pace turned into a sprint. He stord into the cell, only to be greeted by the sight of broken silver chains and fresh blood staining the floor. He crouched down, dipped his fingers into the blood, and brought them to his nose.
The scent confird his worst suspicion.
He snarled—and then let out a furious roar that echoed through the entire pack via the mindlink: "The prisoner has escaped! Find her—NOW!"
He had rushed out of the dungeon, determined to trace Gamma Levi’s path. Since Levi had been carrying Addison, his steps would surely leave imprints in the dirt, making it easier to track. Beta Greg followed the trail diligently—until a familiar voice echoed through their mindlink.
"Greg, how is Addison?"It was his Alpha.
At that mont, Greg’s heart skipped a beat, and he froze in his tracks.
Zion, who had closed his mindlink to everyone, remained unaware of what was happening. He was still pacing anxiously outside Claire’s room, his thoughts consud by her condition. The royal convoy was on its way, and anyone watching him would think his worry was natural. After all, Claire was carrying his child and was his future Luna.
’But they were wrong.’
Zion’s true concern was Addison.
He feared that once the royal convoy arrived, her situation would beco dire and her life would be in danger. Even his status as a hero and his many rits might not be enough to shield her from capital punishnt.
That was why he had sent her to the dungeon—not out of cruelty, but to treat her wounds quietly and buy so ti. He wanted the arriving royal convoy to see that he was handling things with the necessary authority and punishnt, hoping it would make them less inclined to push for the harshest judgnt against Addison.
He had everything planned. All that was left was to ensure Claire and the pup were safe. Once the healer finished tending to Addison, he intended to send her to Claire’s side as well. That way, when Claire eventually woke up, he could appeal to her—ask for her understanding.
As shaless as it sounded, Zion hoped that the act of saving her life might soften her heart. Perhaps she would still insist on so form of punishnt for Addison, but if she could at least spare her life, that would be enough. That was all he dared to hope for.
With that thought, he reached out to his Beta, who he had entrusted with Addison’s care. But after a mont, Greg’s presence in the mindlink fell silent.
Zion halted, a frown knitting his brow.
’Sothing wasn’t right.’
"Is sothing wrong?" Alpha Zion asked through the mindlink, his voice calm but alert.
"No, Alpha," Beta Greg replied after a pause. "Everything is going smoothly. It’s just... the healer fell ill after treating Luna Addison."
Zion’s brows furrowed. Greg’s tone was stiff and sounded off, but Zion was too focused on what he’d just heard about the healer falling ill to question it.
"The healer fell ill?" Zion repeated, his voice rising. "Was Addison’s condition really that bad?"
Without waiting for a response, he said quickly, "I’ll go check on her myself—"
But before he could move, Beta Greg interrupted. "Alpha, please wait."
Beta Greg felt his heart drumd in his chest, terror rippling through him. His chest tightened with dread. If Alpha Zion discovered that instead of treating Addison’s injuries, he had taken it upon himself to whip her within an inch of her life, Greg was certain he wouldn’t live to see another day.
Zion’s cruelty—sharpened and forged on the battlefield—was legendary. And Greg had seen it firsthand. He never doubted how ruthless Zion could be when enraged. Just recalling those monts made Greg’s hands shake and nightmares claw at the edge of his mind.
The first ti Zion had unleashed that terrifying side was after witnessing the aftermath of a vampire raid on a defenseless pack. Vampires, capable of flight, had lifted their werewolf victims high into the air, only to drop them onto sharpened stakes that had been cruelly prepared in advance.
Werewolves, resilient as they were, didn’t die easily. But the scene that haunted Greg most was of a pregnant she-wolf.
While soaring through the night sky, a vampire had drained the blood from the terrified woman mid-air. Then, without remorse, he dropped her from a height of fifteen ters.
She fell straight onto a waiting stake, which pierced through her heart. And just as death approached, the vampire descended—ripping open her belly and pulling out the unborn pup.
He devoured it right in front of her, as the mother died with her eyes wide open, unable to close them in peace.
That incident shattered sothing in Zion.
Because in that mont, Zion didn’t just see a stranger—he imagined that the pregnant woman was Addison, carrying their pup. The horrifying thought of her suffering the sa fate sent him into a blind rage.
All he could see was red. By the ti he ca back to his senses, Shura had fully lost control, transford into a beast driven only by fury. He tore through the battlefield with no sense of reason until the bloodlust finally subsided.
His chest heaved with painful, ragged breaths. It had taken hours to calm down, and only once the threat had completely vanished did his mind begin to clear.
Even then, Zion didn’t understand why he’d thought of Addison in that mont—or why the idea of her being hard had unhinged him so deeply.
He felt like the Moon Goddess was punishing him.
Maybe it was the mate bond ssing with his emotions, he reasoned. So he did everything he could to push thoughts of Addison away.
’But it kept happening. Ti and again, whenever soone was in danger... it was always her face he saw.’
The rage it ignited was so overwhelming that even he couldn’t control it. His wolf, Shura, broke free and ran rampant for an entire day and night.
Shura’s fur bristled with fury, his crimson eyes wild and unseeing—unable to distinguish between ally or foe. He attacked blindly, a storm of claws and fangs, tearing through anyone unfortunate enough to be in his path.
But his true wrath was reserved for the vampire responsible for the pregnant woman’s death.
When Shura found him, he didn’t just kill him—he obliterated him. With a snarl that shook the forest, Shura ripped the vampire’s spine straight from his body, then shredded what remained until it was nothing but mangled flesh, unrecognizable and torn to the point of resembling minced at.
And that was only the beginning.
Consud by vengeance, Zion hunted every vampire in the area. But death would’ve been a rcy.
Zion didn’t grant that.
He knew vampires had healing abilities rivaling that of werewolves—so he made sure they’d suffer. One by one, he severed their limbs, rendering them helpless. Then he would claw into their insides, tearing through organs and sinew, only to stop just before death could claim them.
He waited—watched them regenerate—and then did it again.
Over and over, he dragged them through agony so profound that death beca a distant hope they were never allowed to reach.
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