Chapter 795 Our community is safe now
Pain, shame, rage, and bitterness churned inside Battal, threatening to consume him in a storm of emotions. For decades, he had remained undefeated, a force of nature, a king who had never known defeat. And now, a mere werewolf was going to bring him down?
Battal refused to accept such a fate. He knew he couldn’t return to his underground fortress in this broken, diminished state. His people would immediately deem him unfit to rule, and another power struggle would erupt over who should take the throne until his grandson was old enough to claim it.
But that wasn’t even his biggest concern. There were far more important things he needed to protect, people he held dear and had been forced to stay away from for far too long. Their faces remained etched in his heart, reminding him of everything he still had to live for.
Deception had never been his style, but this time, it was his only chance of survival. How could he let a barbaric werewolf King kill him when he still possessed enough black magic to protect himself, save his life, and pull him back from the brink of death?
The moment his eyes were gouged out, he knew Voren intended to keep his word, just as he had with the former Alpha King, Jaron.
Battal remembered how Voren had rendered the middle-aged former king useless, but now he understood that what Voren had done to Jaron had been a form of mercy.
With Battal, Voren wanted nothing less than his life. And Battal would rather be branded a coward than hand it over.
’Initiate the disappearing spell. Now.’
He mind-linked his shadow protectors, desperation bleeding into his command. For one terrifying moment, he thought they wouldn’t make it in time as Voren raised his sword again, the blade glinting menacingly in the light.
The sword was dangerously close to Battal’s chest. In fact, it had already pierced his flesh when the disappearing spell finally took effect, the blade sinking deeper before his body began to vanish.
It wasn’t just Battal who disappeared. His entire Lycan army vanished with him, their bodies fading into nothingness until the only evidence of their presence was the blood they had spilled.
“Fuck!” Voren cursed, driving the tip of his sword into the ground as his teeth clenched and his jaw tightened with fury.
He had come so close to ending his greatest enemy, only for Battal to escape at the last second. The coward!
Knowing the Lycans, Voren couldn’t afford to underestimate him. Even without an arm, a leg, and an eye, Battal would remain a threat if he managed to recover. And if he did, he could once again threaten everything Voren held dear.
But Voren had learned one important lesson in life. Never trust a Lycan. Not even a king. Not even one bleeding at your feet.
Despite his frustration, the moment Seraphine wrapped her arms around him, warmth spread through his chest. Her embrace was a soothing balm to his battered soul, grounding him when his anger threatened to overwhelm him.
“You won, V. We won.”
Her words reminded him of what truly mattered. He might not have killed Battal, but the Lycans, the arrogant creatures who believed they were superior to every other species, had been forced to retreat.
They had won, even if Battal was still alive.
For once, Voren was learning to appreciate a victory for what it was instead of dwelling on what he hadn’t achieved. Perhaps that was how he would finally find peace. By accepting what they had accomplished rather than obsessing over what remained unfinished.
“Yeah, but I wanted him dead,” he admitted, his voice heavy with disappointment.
Seraphine pulled back and smiled at him, her eyes filled with love and pride.
“His life is going to be miserable anyway. Even if he gets prosthetics, they’ll never be the same as his original limbs.” She paused, her smile widening. “Besides, our community is safe now. Can you imagine how the Lycans are going to live with a king who lost an arm, a leg, and an eye to a werewolf king?”
Her voice dripped with mockery and satisfaction. Voren couldn’t help smiling as some of the tension eased from his shoulders.
He couldn’t imagine leading other Alphas without an arm, a leg, or an eye. The shame alone would be unbearable, especially when the deformity was not from birth or an accident, not to mention the humiliation and the inevitable loss of respect from those who once feared him.
“Thank you, Voren,” Jasmine said with a smile, her face noticeably brighter and her eyes shining with gratitude. “The Lycans cheated, but at least we know they won’t be attacking our pack lands anymore.”
Voren nodded as Seraphine helped him into a fresh set of clothes provided by the outlanders. He took the clothes from her, then bent down and kissed the top of her head, letting his lips linger in her hair.
“Thank you, babe.”
The smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth hinted at what he had in mind for them once they were alone in the bedroom. It was a promise of passion, a chance to release all the tension that had built up inside him.
Seraphine smiled shyly, about to respond, when Oriana’s ancient voice interrupted them, carrying the unmistakable weight of her power.
“It’s done. They won’t be able to access the outlands or the packs anymore.”
A collective sigh of relief escaped them as the tension finally began to drain from their bodies.
But their relief was short-lived.
The leader of the outlands stepped forward, his expression grim. “There’s something you all need to know,” he said, his voice cutting through the momentary peace.
Voren’s smile vanished. After everything they’d endured, he had a bad feeling about what was coming next.
“What is it?” he demanded.
The man hesitated, his gaze sweeping over everyone before settling on Voren.
“Battal’s escape wasn’t the only problem we faced today,” he revealed. “Before he disappeared, he managed to—”
He stopped abruptly, as if struggling to find the right words.
Voren’s fingers tightened around his wife. “Managed to do what?”