The Alpha Mate

Chapter 99

[POV: Draven]

My heart was still pounding violently, every beat fueled by rage and fear.

Images of Atlas beneath Evan's claws replayed endlessly in my mind, making my vision blur red with fury. I had come so close to losing him—too close.

The echo of his terrified cry still rang in my ears, tearing at something deep inside my chest that I couldn't name and couldn't silence.

When I'd sensed his fear and pain through our bond, my world had shattered. I'd relived a nightmare I thought I'd buried years ago.

The night Annabeth was taken from me. The same panic with the same helplessness. The same sickening certainty that I was going to arrive too late.

The sight of Atlas pinned beneath another wolf's paws had ignited a primal fury I didn't know existed. I'd ripped into Evan with everything I had—teeth tearing through flesh until he collapsed motionless to the ground.

I'd been certain I'd ended him. But his wounds had knitted shut with impossible speed, and by the time I'd turned back to Atlas, Evan had vanished into the shadows like smoke.

I cursed myself bitterly. I should have pursued him, hunted him down, ensured he never drew breath again. But Atlas's cries had stopped me cold. My mate's safety came first. Evan's punishment could wait.

I'd sent my most trusted spies into Midnight Crest territory, determined to discover Evan's next move. Tonight, finally, they returned.

I stood silently, jaw clenched so tight the muscle ached, as my lead scout reported.

"The Midnight Crest pack's Alpha Julius and his mate Minerva are dead," the scout announced grimly. "Dominic and Evan have taken control."

The words landed like stones. I had expected treachery from Dominic, but this—murdering his own parents—this was something else entirely.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, Alpha. Dominic and Evan rule Midnight Crest now, and wolves who resisted were killed. The rest knelt." He paused. "There's more. Dominic was seen entering Damian's territory. He met with the Alpha directly."

Damian.

The name alone made my vision darken. The Alpha who had orchestrated the attack four years ago that took Annabeth from me. The man whose wolves had torn through my border patrol and killed the woman I loved before I could reach her.

If Dominic had formed an alliance with him, the threat multiplied beyond anything I'd anticipated.

Damian's numbers and Dominic's dark magic. Evan's unnatural regeneration.

Together they could destroy everything I'd built.

"Double our patrols," I commanded. "No one enters or leaves without being accounted for."

The scouts bowed and left. I sank into my chair and pressed my palms into my eye sockets, breathing hard.

Then I went to find Atlas.

He was sitting on the edge of our bed, staring at the wall when I entered. I sat beside him and said it plainly, because Atlas deserved the truth delivered with care, not overheard through thin walls.

"Your parents are dead. Dominic killed them. He's taken control of Midnight Crest."

Atlas didn't move. For a long time he just sat there, hands resting on his knees, perfectly still. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat and quiet.

"They were terrible people, Draven."

"I know."

"They chose Dominic over me every single day of my life. They let him torment me. They planned to throw me away." His jaw tightened. "So why does this feel like someone carved a piece out of my chest?"

I had no answer for that. Grief didn't follow logic. It didn't care whether the people you'd lost deserved your tears. It came anyway, uninvited and merciless, and all you could do was sit with it.

So I pulled him against me, and he pressed his forehead into the curve of my neck, and he didn't cry, but his breathing went ragged and his fingers fisted in my shirt like he was trying to hold himself together through sheer grip strength.

I held him tighter—reathed him in. Said nothing, because nothing I could say would fix what Dominic had broken in him long before tonight.

After a while, Atlas straightened, wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Set his jaw.

"Call the council," he said quietly. "We need to prepare."

I studied his face—the steel in it, the grief still swimming beneath—and nodded.

Within the hour, they were assembled in the war room. Aaron stood at my right, broad-shouldered and steady, his Beta authority radiating calm competence.

Kobe leaned against the far wall with his arms crossed, sharp eyes already calculating. Levi sat beside Piper, who was sharpening a blade with the focus of someone who intended to use it soon.

Theo stood near the window, unusually quiet. Ava had spread a rough map of the surrounding territories across the table before anyone asked.

I briefed them about the scope of what was coming. The room absorbed it in grim silence.

Aaron spoke first. "Timeline?"

"Unknown. But Damian doesn't wait once he commits. We have weeks at best."

Kobe straightened. "Our eastern border is the weakest point. If Damian's forces—"

"There's something else," Aaron interrupted, his expression troubled.

He glanced at me, then at the rest of the council. "The border patrols reported inconsistencies over the last few days. Ward stones along the northern perimeter have been tampered with—weakened, not destroyed. Someone has been disabling our defenses from the inside."

"A traitor," Levi said flatly.

"We don't know that yet," I said, though Sirius was already growling in the back of my mind. "But I want it investigated. Aaron, Kobe—take it. Trust no one outside this room until we know who's responsible."

They both nodded.

We continued strategizing, but I noticed Atlas growing quieter as the hour wore on.

He stood near the edge of the table, one hand braced on the wood, and at some point his other hand drifted to his left side again. The ribs. The place Evan had bitten him.

"Atlas?" I said.

He blinked, refocusing. "I'm fine. Just—dizzy for a second." He flexed his fingers, frowning at them as though they'd done something unexpected. "Hyde's been unusually quiet today."

Piper looked up sharply. "How?"

"Like he's… distant and muffled." Atlas shook his head, forcing a thin smile. "Probably just exhaustion. It's been a long week."

The crescent mark at his brow, usually a steady glow, seemed dimmer than usual—its silver light flickering faintly, like a candle in a draft.

Something cold and formless coiled in my gut. Sirius stirred, uneasy.

"We'll pick this up in the morning," I said. "Everyone get rest while you can."

The council filed out. Atlas lingered, still pressing his hand to his ribs, staring at the map without seeing it. I crossed the room and took his face gently between my palms, tilting it up until his pale eyes met mine.

"We'll get through this," I told him.

He nodded. But his skin was cooler than it should have been, and when I kissed his forehead, the crescent mark pulsed once beneath my lips—weak, uncertain—and then went still.