Chapter Forty-Nine

The Awakening of Wolf's 

The pain had become part of him.

Every breath Derrick took burned like fire in his veins — the echo of Mona’s magic twisting through his blood. Her command lingered in his bones, forcing his body to obey even when his mind screamed in defiance.

He hated it.

He hated her.

But above all, he hated himself.

The throne room was quiet now, filled only with the hum of her crimson energy. Mona stood near the shattered windows, her arms outstretched toward the bleeding moon. Her wolves — no, her creatures — knelt in perfect stillness, their eyes glowing faintly red.

Derrick stood among them, a puppet in a war he no longer believed in.

His thoughts, however, were his own again — barely. Every hour that passed, the mark she had placed on him weakened, flickering when her focus drifted elsewhere. He had learned to hide behind the cracks, to think in silence, to move when her power wavered.

Tonight, it was flickering again.

Mona’s voice broke through the stillness. “The moon nears its peak. Soon the veil will split. Then she will fall.”

She didn’t look at him when she said it, but he felt the barb in her tone. Kimberly.

Even the name burned when he thought it. His chest tightened — guilt, memory, love twisted into something bitter.

Once, he had loved her.

Once, he had chosen Mona to spite her.

Now, he was nothing but the consequence of both.

“Luna,” one of the crimson wolves murmured from beside him. “The pack waits for your command.”

Mona lowered her arms slowly, her crimson aura pulsing. “Prepare them. The Shadow King and his little moonlight pet think they can stand against me. We’ll show them what a real god looks like.”

The wolves howled in unison, the sound echoing like thunder.

Derrick kept his head bowed, his fists clenched.

She turned to him then, smiling faintly. “And you, my king,” she said mockingly, “you’ll stand beside me when the worlds burn. Won’t you?”

He forced a smirk. “Where else would I be?”

She studied him for a long moment — suspicion flickering behind her crimson eyes. Then she reached out, her fingers tracing his jaw. The touch burned, but he didn’t flinch.

“Don’t betray me, Derrick,” she whispered. “You know what happens to traitors.”

He met her gaze, his voice low. “You’ve already killed everything worth saving.”

Her expression darkened, but before she could respond, one of her wolves rushed into the hall, breathless. “My Queen — the light has gathered at the eastern ruins. The Shadow King is calling his army.”

Mona’s lips curved. “Good.”

She turned, her gown of blood flowing behind her as she strode toward the doors. “Then the war begins now.”

Her army followed in unison.

Derrick waited until she was gone — until the crimson mist that followed her faded into the air — before he let his knees buckle. He leaned against the wall, breathing hard, the control around his heart loosening for the first time in days.

The mark on his chest still glowed faintly red, but it was dimmer now — weakening as her distance grew.

He pressed his palm against it, grimacing. “You may have my power,” he muttered, “but you’ll never have my will.”

He looked toward the open window. The horizon was red, pulsing with energy. He could feel Kimberly’s presence — faint, far away, but strong.

The bond between them, broken long ago, still thrummed faintly under his skin. Not love — not anymore. Something deeper. Regret, maybe. Debt.

“She’s going to kill you,” he whispered to the wind. “Or die trying.”

He pushed himself up, his muscles trembling. “Not this time.”

Derrick crossed the ruined hall, his steps uneven but sure. He moved through the corridors like a ghost, past wolves who bowed to him without seeing the defiance burning in his eyes.

He reached the old council chamber — one Mona never entered. Its walls were lined with ancient runes, protection sigils left over from the first Alpha bloodlines. Here, her influence was weakest.

He knelt by the cracked stone table, pulling out a small blade from his belt. The silver edge glimmered faintly.

He pressed it to his palm. Blood welled up instantly — not red, but streaked with faint black threads. Her corruption.

He gritted his teeth. “You took everything from me, Mona… but you forgot one thing.”

He dipped his fingers in his blood and began tracing a rune on the stone — an old mark of rebellion, one his ancestors had used when they fought the gods themselves.

The mark pulsed, faintly at first, then brighter. The air around him thickened, the sigils responding to the ancient magic.

He closed his eyes and whispered, “Lucien… if you can hear me… she’s coming. And she’s bringing hell with her.”

The room trembled, the blood rune burning briefly before fading. The message was sent — carried through the same shadows Mona had corrupted.

He exhaled shakily. “That’s all I can give you.”

A sharp sound made him freeze.

Footsteps.

He turned — and saw Rowan, the young Beta, standing in the doorway. His eyes glowed faintly crimson.

“Alpha?” Rowan said softly. “What are you doing?”

Derrick straightened slowly, meeting his gaze. “Taking back what’s mine.”

The boy hesitated. “The Queen—she’ll know.”

“Let her,” Derrick said. “If I’m damned, then at least I’ll burn for the right reason.”

For a long moment, Rowan stared at him — and then, to Derrick’s surprise, the red light in the boy’s eyes flickered. “Then I burn with you, Alpha.”

Derrick felt something in his chest stir — pride, maybe. Or the ghost of it. “Then we start by freeing the rest.”

Outside, the air howled as the blood moon climbed higher.

Mona was moving toward the ruins.

And Derrick, for the first time in a long while, was done following.

He was a wolf again — and he would fight to the last breath to make things right.

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