Chapter 338 I Found His Stone of Duality

I told myself to stop thinking the worst.

Riley would be fine. She had to be fine.

But no matter how many times I repeated it in my head, that snowy night would not leave me. I could still feel the cold ground beneath me, the sharp sting when Silas drove the blade into my side, the smell of iron thick in the air. I had never imagined betrayal would come from within our own circle. In our world, enemies were supposed to stand outside the pack borders not sit at the same table.

The front door creaked open, pulling me back to the present. Harlan stepped out first, his scent sharp with agitation. His gaze swept the yard like a restless guard on patrol.

“Where’s Janice?” he asked.

“She went back,” Lewis answered calmly.

“Back? That woman left me again!” Harlan stomped his foot, frustration rolling off him in waves.

He was on edge. We all were. When someone bonded to you starts to change when their scent shifts, when their heartbeat doesn’t match yours anymore you feel it in your bones. Harlan must have sensed it too.

Without another word, he stormed off down the driveway. Lewis followed him, steady as always, like an Alpha who refused to let cracks show in his armor.

I was left alone in the house.

The leftovers from last night’s takeout sat on the table. Cold. Untouched. Pointless.

Riley’s words echoed in my head.

“May you guys live long and happy lives.”

She had said it like a farewell blessing.

Like someone already prepared to die.

She knew the danger waiting at the Blackwells’ territory. She understood the risks better than anyone. Yet she still walked straight into their den. Not because she was foolish.

Because she wanted to clear the threats for me.

My fists clenched without me realizing. My nails dug into my palms until pain bloomed, sharp and grounding. Something dark stirred in my chest hot, furious, territorial.

Why was the world so twisted?

The cruel thrived. The wicked built empires. And the good… the good kept bleeding for everyone else.

Whitney was still trapped in her nightmare, controlled like a puppet. I had barely survived Amber’s attempt to end me. Lewis was carrying a bloodline he refused to claim. And Riley

Riley was walking toward death with her head held high.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Lewis wanted to rewrite fate. Riley was ready to take a fatal blow in my place. But the ones who deserved to fall were Amber and the Blackwell brothers. They were the poison in this city. The rot beneath the polished surface of Jaford’s elite circles.

The resentment spread through me like wildfire.

I could not stand behind them anymore and let others protect me.

If I was bonded to Lewis if I carried the strength of our pack in my veins then I had to act like it.

I started going over everything in my mind. From the night I “died”… to the strange second chance I had been given. Every lie. Every half-truth. Every missing piece.

The Morrigans family was being used as leverage. That was clear. They were pawns.

First, I needed to relocate them somewhere safe, somewhere outside the Blackwells’ reach. Then I had to speak with Grandma. The Blackwells claimed things about our bloodline, about ancient debts and curses. I needed the truth.

Second, Lewis’s biological mother. Who was she really? Was she dead? Or hidden?

Why did Yael refuse to call Amber “mom,” yet Amber treated her nephew with calculated kindness? What kind of bond had Lewis’s mother shared with his father? Was it love… or something darker?

And Whitney.

The chip implanted inside her body was a leash. Taylor could detonate it anytime. I had to find where it was hidden and remove it before he even thought of pressing that button.

As I cleared the table, my mind raced. I would not be a burden. I would not be the fragile Luna everyone shielded.

“I’ll take care of this. You should rest. I’ve arranged for a doctor to check your throat later.”

Lewis’s voice came from behind me.

I turned. He had returned after seeing Harlan off. His presence filled the room instantly steady, controlled. The wild, grief-stricken look from last night was gone. In its place was cold focus.

Noticing my tension, he added, “I’ll make sure Riley stays safe. Don’t worry too much. Everyone knows Mrs. Pearson adores Whitney. If anything happens to her at the Blackwells’ place, suspicion will fall on them immediately. Their base is likely in Jaford, and they’re more afraid of exposure than we are.”

He paused, studying my face carefully.

“Riley’s identity makes her the least suspicious. She might pull off something extraordinary.”

He tidied the table quickly, then walked over and gently patted my head.

The gesture was soft.

Claiming.

“Don’t be afraid, Elena,” he murmured. “I’ll always stand by you. No matter whose blood runs through my veins, I will never acknowledge them as my family.”

His words carried weight. In our world, bloodlines mattered. Legacy mattered. But bond mattered more.

I gestured quickly, my voice still fragile. “You’re not dirty. You’re purer than anyone.”

His jaw tightened slightly, as if my words touched something deep inside him.

“I’ll make you breakfast,” he said, picking up the trash bag and heading into the kitchen.

The house grew quiet.

Too quiet.

It felt like the stillness before a territorial war. Like the air right before a storm breaks over pack lands.

Sooner or later, we would face the Blackwells openly.

I needed air.

I stepped outside into the garden. Jaford’s endless spring wrapped around me like a warm blanket. Flowers bloomed in bold colors. The breeze carried sweet scents that calmed the restless instincts clawing inside my chest.

Then my eyes landed on a small potted plant.

The Bodhi tree.

It was still in the same pot.

I remembered the day Lewis brought it home. He had insisted on placing it in the garden himself. I had watered it a few times, teasing him about treating a plant like a sacred relic.

Why had he brought it all the way to Jaford?

The thought struck me suddenly.

My heart skipped.

I rushed toward the plant and knelt down. The climate had been kind to it. Tiny fruits had begun to grow, their green skins tinted faint pink.

Carefully, I pushed aside the soil with my fingers.

The earth was damp.

And beneath it

There it was.

A pitch-black Stone of Duality.

Hidden right under my nose.

My breath caught.

I thought about the small cuts on Lewis’s hands over the past few weeks. The ones he dismissed as accidents. The faint scent of iron that sometimes lingered around the plant.

He had been feeding it with his blood.

Using his own essence to nurture the stone.

In our world, blood carried power. Oaths. Identity. Dominance. To pour it willingly into an object meant sacrifice.

He had been planning something.

Something dangerous.

If Amber had not interfered, I might never have discovered this before it was too late.

My fingers hovered over the stone. I should bury it back. Pretend I had seen nothing. Confront him later.

But before I could move, I felt it.

A presence behind me.

Strong. Controlled. Cold.

Lewis’s voice fell over me like shadow.

“Elena,” he said quietly, “what are you doing?”

My heart slammed against my ribs.

He had caught me.