CHAPTER 186: _ AMIAS AND LUNA INES

The drive back to the Alpha’s estate is a hollow pilgrimage. The cold of the night air rushing through the vents doesn’t have an effect when it comes to the burning acid of grief that fills Amias’s throat and sinuses. He is numb, yet every inch of his skin feels raw, sensitized to the point of screaming. The rhythmic thump-thump of his tires on the pavement sounds less like travel and more like a dirge marking the burial of his last shreds of hope.

He drives past the iron gates, which swing open with a silent, imposing reverence. The Alpha’s estate stands ahead, a sprawling structure of dark stone and polished timber smelling of power, expensive whiskey, and old, entrenched secrets. This is the house that holds their titles, their wealth, and the twisted geometry of the Bellamy family: one father, three mothers, two daughters, and four sons (all rivals).

He parks his unassuming car amidst the pomp and circumstance of his father’s fleet, ignoring the valets. He doesn’t bother with the main entrance, instead taking a discreet side door that leads directly toward the residential wing, hoping to vanish into the solitude of his room without incident.

The interior of the estate is vast and silent, dimly lit by chandeliers that cast pools of cold, diamond light on marble floors. The silence, however, is a lie. This house always pulses with unseen tension like a low-frequency buzz of judgment and ambition.

He heads straight toward the stairs, his mind a battlefield where Vark is still fighting a losing war.

"We should have fought! We should have marked her!’ the wolf wails. It’s a wounded, possessive sound. "Coward! You let them take what was ours!"

Amias clenches his fists, focusing on the simple, physical task of putting one foot in front of the other.

"I respected her choice. It was the only way to retain my damn integrity," he argues, but the word integrity tastes like bitter justification now that it has cost him everything.

He reaches the landing and turns down the corridor leading to the Alpha sons’ suites when he encounters the witch of the Alpha’s estate. Luna Ines.

Darien’s mother. The Alpha’s second wife. The Queen of Sugar-Coated Venom who has reigned over this house since Amias’s own mother, Clarissa, messed up. She is about to head to Darien’s room, likely to fawn over her perfect, uncomplicated son.

Ines is dressed in silk, smelling of gardenias and relentless social climbing. She looks immaculate with that dark hair of hers which Isolde inherited pinned in a style that manages to be both classic and intensely intimidating. She radiates the kind of hypocritical sweetness Amias has learned to despise, the kind that promises comfort while sharpening the knife.

Today, he’s too drained for politeness, and too furious for performance. He stops, barely pausing his stride.

"Luna Ines," he grumbly greets her, the title dropping from his lips like a lead weight.

She turns with a smile snap into place like a perfectly calibrated mask. It’s wide, blindingly white, and utterly hollow.

"Amias! My dear boy. You’re home early," she chirps, her voice soaring with fake concern. She approaches him with an unnerving slowness. "Tell me, how was your week at the Academy? And that long awakening ceremony. Were you not exhausted?"

Amias manages to keep his face blank, but the air around him is starting to thicken with repressed aggression.

"It was fine, Luna. Everything was fine."

She pauses, placing a soft, cool hand on his forearm. The touch feels less like maternal warmth and more like a patrol officer checking his papers.

"And the most exciting part, Amias. Did you finally find her? Did my stepson find his true mate?" She beams, the implication being that of course, he must have, because Alpha-blood males like him always get what they want.

However, she’s just reminded him of something he’s trying to forget.

His mate.

His mate is currently in a midnight-black sports car with Morgan and Grayson, choosing them. They, whose marks are visible on her throat, are sealing him out of their circle.

The composure Amias had guarded so fiercely in front of Corvin and the twins snaps.

He pulls his arm away from her touch as though he’s been burned. He turns his head slowly, his eyes locking onto hers, and he lets all the cold, bitter disappointment of the night bleed into his gaze.

"Why don’t you go ask Darien, your son? I’m sure he has much more interesting details to share about the entire ritual. He seems to be having quite the time with the whole Moon Blessed scenario." Amias retorts.

Ines’s smile doesn’t just fall, it shatters. She hates when dirt is associated with her precious son and there’s nothing the woman considers more filthy than poverty and lack of power.

Her eyes widen, and a faint, angry color rises on her neck. She understands the venom beneath his words, the implication that Amias knows about Darien’s fling with someone to whom she has no idea herself. The subtle threat to Darien’s carefully crafted public image.

She recovers almost instantly, turning her defensive anger toward the safest target: Amias’s cheating mother.

"Amias Bellamy!" she gasps, her voice dropping to a theatrical whisper that nonetheless carries through the silent corridor. "Clarissa has not taught you any better than herself, has she? You speak to me with such rudeness? She must be such a poor example if her son has no respect for his elders and his Luna."

That word ’Clarissa’ uttered with Ines’s fake pity and real spite, is the final insult. It’s an attack on the only true love Amias ever knew, no matter how twisted and complicated it is. He and his mother might not have the perfect relationship, but he’ll be damned before he lets someone as rotten as Ines spit over her.

A wave of sheer, blinding infuriation washes over him, so hot it cancels out the grief. Amias turns fully to face the devilish woman who holds all the power in this house—besides the Alpha—the woman who pretends to be sweet while poisoning the family from the inside.

He fixes her with a death gaze, Vark, shortly forgetting Heidi to snarl at the enemy directly in front of them. The instinct to challenge her, to use the raw, dominating power of his Alpha blood to force her into silence, is almost overwhelming.

"Slap her face. Knock the entitlement out of her perfect teeth. Make her kneel." Vark urges angrily.

They’ve both had enough of Darien’s wicked mother.

He takes one furious step toward her, the sound of his shoes on the marble echoing loudly. Luna Ines, for all her composure, instinctively flinches back, recognizing the pure, unfiltered predator sheen in his eyes.

But then, the chilling reality of their situation floods his tactical mind.

She holds the power. All of it.