Blade of Darkness

The air inside the mansion thickened with tension. The stone walls trembled with the weight of years and blood spilled across them. Derek stood in the center of the grand chamber, his breathing heavy, his body aching from the clash with the Rogues downstairs. His torn shirt clung to his damp skin, and blood seeped from cuts on his arms and knuckles, but his amber eyes were fixed on only one person.

Ronan.

He stood opposite Derek, tall and composed, as if the chaos of the night had not touched him at all. His long black coat billowed around him with the wind slipping through shattered windows. Behind him, bound to a post with chains laced in wolfsbane, was Diva. Her head hung low, strands of her hair clinging to her sweat-slicked face. Her wolf, suppressed by the poison, whimpered softly within her.

Derek's wolf snarled inside him, pushing to the surface, but Derek held it back. His fists clenched.

"Let her go, Ronan," Derek growled, his voice echoing off the stone walls.

Ronan gave a slow, mocking clap. "Bravo, Alpha Derek. You've made it past my Rogues. I'm impressed."

"This isn't a game. Release her."

Ronan tilted his head, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Still so noble. Still fighting for something that was never real."

Derek's brow furrowed.

Ronan stepped forward, circling him like a predator. "You don't even know, do you? That bond you feel for her, that pull in your chest? I created that."

Derek's chest heaved. "Liar."

"Oh, it’s true," Ronan said, dark eyes glinting. "You think the Moon Goddess gave you that bond? No. I manipulated it. A little magic, a little blood, and boom—the Alpha and the Luna. You were never meant to be."

Diva stirred weakly, her voice hoarse. "Derek... don’t listen to him."

"Shut up," Ronan barked, and she winced as the wolfsbane in the chains surged.

Derek's wolf surged forward again, roaring inside his chest. It took everything in him to remain in his skin. The betrayal, the lies, the sight of Diva in chains—it burned through his blood like wildfire.

Ronan spread his arms. "So here we are. You, the beloved Alpha. Me, the exile. Isn’t it poetic?"

"Why? Why do all this?" Derek snapped. "Why create a fake bond just to torment me?"

"Because you took everything from me!" Ronan snarled, eyes flashing with fury. "The pack, the respect, the future that should have been mine! You were always the favored one, Derek. Always the golden son. And I? I was cast out."

He pointed a finger at Diva. "I created that bond so you'd fall for her. So you'd grow weak. And now, I’ll sever it. Right here. Right now."

He shoved Diva to the ground.

Derek stepped forward instinctively, his eyes blazing. "Don't touch her."

Ronan chuckled. "Then come stop me, Alpha."

In a blur, he lunged. Derek met him mid-charge, their bodies crashing together with the force of a thunderclap. Fists flew. Claws raked. They moved like shadows, feral and fast.

Ronan was stronger than Derek remembered. Fueled by rage and dark magic, his strikes landed with bone-breaking force. But Derek, despite his wounds, held his own. His wolf fed him bursts of adrenaline as they collided, twisted, and slammed into walls.

Diva watched helplessly from the ground, trying to shift but unable to. The wolfsbane held her wolf in a vice, rendering her powerless. Her heart pounded with each blow Derek took.

Derek ducked a swing and delivered a punch to Ronan's ribs, then followed with a knee to his chest. Ronan staggered but grinned.

"You're slowing down, brother," he spat the word with venom.

Derek was slowing. His arms trembled from exhaustion. The fights with the Rogues had drained him. Blood poured from a gash on his shoulder, and every movement pulled at it.

Ronan’s hand disappeared into his coat. When it emerged, it held a blade—blackened steel, old, and cursed. It pulsed with an eerie red glow.

Derek's eyes widened. "That blade..."

"Forged with the blood of traitors and Alpha flesh," Ronan said. "Fitting for the end of you."

He lunged.

Derek twisted to dodge, but not fast enough. The blade plunged into his side, just shy of his stomach. Pain exploded through him, white-hot and blinding. He staggered back, the blade sliding free, crimson spilling across his abdomen.

Diva screamed. "No!"

Derek dropped to one knee, gasping. His vision blurred, but he held onto consciousness.

Ronan stood over him, breathing heavily. "I wanted it to be your heart, but this will do. The blood loss will take care of the rest."

Suddenly, a golden shimmer erupted from Derek's chest. A wave of energy pulsed from him, knocking Ronan back a step.

Ronan narrowed his eyes. "What... what was that?"

Derek's hand went to his chest. Where the bond mark was, it glowed faintly, golden and warm.

"That shouldn't happen," Ronan muttered.

Diva’s voice, trembling, cut through the silence. "Because the bond... it’s becoming real."

Ronan’s face twisted with rage.

Derek forced himself to stand, though blood ran down his leg. His gaze never left Ronan’s.

"You failed. You tried to break me with a lie, but you gave me something real."

Ronan growled, his claws elongating.

Derek wiped blood from his mouth. "Come face me, Ronan. No tricks. No magic. Just you and me."

The air crackled with power.

Ronan raised his head, teeth bared. "Very well. Let’s end this, Alpha."

Diva crawled toward the blade dropped on the floor, her fingers twitching toward it as Derek squared his stance.

The final battle had begun.