Chapter 199
FREYA
Of course I have his child.
Ο
Ο
Did Deckard really think he could cross me? Break our deal and walk away like it meant nothing? He thinks I didn’t notice… thinks I didn’t see through his charming lies and hollow promises. But I did. I saw everything—and I’ve been waiting for this moment.
Patiently. Obsessively.
The oath he swore to me when he lay broken and bleeding, begging for life… he never intended to keep it. He used me, like they all do Like all these arrogant, snarling beasts who call themselves Alphas. They think their howls are louder than fate. They think their pride
in protect them from consequences.
can
But they are wrong.
Deckard is the worst of them all. He played the part so well–noble, brave, fierce–but beneath all that is just another coward. Another liar.
So no, I won’t beg for his affection or fight for his attention anymore. If I can’t have the man… then I will have his blood.
And gods, what a beautiful boy he is.
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He’s quiet now, tucked safely against my chest, eyes barely open. But I feel his power already. I feel the storm inside him, just waiting to awaken. He carries Deckard’s fire–and mine. This child will be everything I was denied.
And when he comes of age… when the moon finally calls his wolf forward… he will know the truth. He will feel the pull between us. Not that of mother and child.
Fated mate.
Yes, he will understand that I am his destiny. I will raise him. Shape him. Bind him to me in ways Deckard never could have imagined. And when the time is right, we will create a legacy so powerful the gods themselves will kneel.
This is my revenge.
Not with blade or spell… but with time.
Let Deckard burn the city if he wants. Let him rage. Let him tear Blackwater to the ground, searching for a son he’ll never find. He had a chance to choose me–he chose her instead.
Now I have everything I need.
And I am willing to wait a lifetime if I must.
As for Amica… she thinks she’s won. She believes her love, her title, her position beside Deckard makes her untouchable, But she has no idea who she’s dealing with.
I am not the typical woman. I don’t fight with claws and tears like the rest. I don’t scream and scratch for a man’s attention. No–1 study. I wait. I strike where it hurts most. And if I can’t have Deckard, then I will have something far more valuable.
Her son
When I first arrived in Blackwater, I made it my mission to learn the ins and outs of the city. Every corner. Every shadow. I whispered to those in the slums, smiled at those in the markets, and where no one would dare look.
And once the battle was over and we moved into the Manor, I started to notice… him.
Astrange man. Always lingering beyond the walls. Watching, but never approaching. At first, I thought he was just another rogue. But instincts never lie–and mine screamed that he was more.
One day, I took a stroll outside the Manor, to gather herbs for a potion I was making. The manor is surrounded by thick vegetation and silence–fitting for the great Alpha of Blackwater. Of course he owns land that stretches beyond what eyes can see,
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1:04 PM ·
Chapter 199
As I wander further into the green, to be harmless, I spot a narrow, road. The bushes around it don’t look like weeds. No, they look purposeful.
And if they hold the rare herbs I’m looking for, then surely, they’re worth the risk.
I step in.
The deeper I go, And just like that, I find it. Not just the herbs I seek, but something else. Something more…
This path is hidden, And it amazes me–truly amazes me. Rare, beautiful herbs and flowers that would cost a leg back in Red Valley… they’re just here, growing wild and free, untouched, thriving in this forgotten stretch of land. No one seems to know their value.
I walk deeper into the woods, and that’s when I spot it–a narrow path hidden behind a curtain of thick leaves. It looks like it leads somewhere.
So I follow it.
What I find is… A small hut, old and crooked, nestled in the embrace of trees as though the forest is trying to swallow it whole. Curious, I approach. The door is slightly ajar. It doesn’t seem locked, and there’s no scent of danger–yet.
Cautiously, I push it open and step inside. The space is dim, cloaked in shadows. And then–I hear it.
Cautious
Footsteps.
Slow. Like someone’s tiptoeing behind me.
“Hello?” I call out gently, trying not to sound threatening. “I’m sorry for invading. I just wanted to know if you’re the gardener who planted these herbs? I found some rare plants out there and was hoping you had dry seeds I could-”
But I don’t get to finish.
Something slams into me from the side–hard.
I hit the ground with a thud, breath knocked out of my lungs.
A werewolf.
I can tell instantly from the weight, the scent, the wild energy that crackles off him like a storm. He moves fast, pins me with his presence before I can even react.
He’s shirtless, muscles taut, chest heaving with fury as he looms above me. His eyes burn with suspicion.
“Who are you,” he snarls, voice low and sharp like a blade, “and what the hell are you doing here?”
Before he utters another word, I hurl a quick spell under my breath, flicking my wrist with precision.
He flies back like a ragdoll, landing flat on his back with a groan–pathetic, like a child with no motor control. I rise slowly, stepping forward, standing over him with a wicked tilt to my head.
“Well, who the hell are you?” I demand,
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