CHAPTER 41: AMBUSH YOUR PACK

"Didn’t you hear what Delia said?" Malrik’s sharp gaze locked onto his brother’s. "This—this is exactly why you’re unworthy. You want me to surrender to Lucien? You really believe I’m not strong enough to defeat him?" His voice rose with each word while Simon kept his head low.

"Alpha Malrik, please," Delia interjected gently. "Your brother isn’t trying to undermine you. He simply despises unnecessary bloodshed and violence."

Malrik exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing just a little. "Simon, go to your room," he said in a softer tone now.

Without protest, Simon turned and left the room in silence. Once inside his quarters, he reached into the pocket of his trousers and pulled out his phone.

After a brief pause, he typed a message and sent it to someone. As he lowered himself on the bed, Simon got the reply.

’Here is Lucien’s Beta’s number: 5671XXXX31. His name is Caleb Walter.’

Simon smiled and quickly messaged Caleb, telling him that Delia was in their pack. Resting the phone on the mattress, next to him, Simon thought, ’But the question is how I will take Delia to Lucien. This witch is adamant to have a war for some reason. Malrik can’t see or think of anything, except for defeating Lucien.’

Running his fingers through his hair, he went to the washroom to freshen up.

Moments later, when Simon stepped out of the washroom, he was startled seeing Malrik in the room, sitting on the recliner comfortably.

"Did you need something?" Simon asked.

"No," Malrik refused. "Where did you go in the day?" he questioned. "I want you to tell me the truth."

Malrik remained quiet, but he knew his brother had found out. But, how? He had been careful.

"Speak!" Malrik growled at his younger brother this time. His nails elongated into vicious claws, twitching at his sides as if moments away from ripping into flesh.

"I—I wanted Lucien to stop the war," Simon admitted. "I thought if I spoke to him, maybe he would reconsider."

Cold sweat gathered on Simon’s temples and even on the spine. His palms turned clammy, yet he forced himself to meet Malrik’s furious gaze. He knew showing fear now would only make things worse, but standing firm before Malrik felt just as dangerous.

And the next second, Malrik held the throat of Simon. The nails dug into his skin, leaving bruises with blood on its wake.

"Please... Let me go," Simon urged in a low voice as he writhed under his brother’s fierce grip.

"You went to my sworn enemy to beg him!" Malrik snarled at him. "You’re such a filth. I told you if you couldn’t be of any help, then stay out of my mouth. Then, why the fuck did you go to the Darkmoor Pack? You even dared to hide it from me!" He shoved Simon toward the bed. It came crashing down because of the brutal force Malrik used.

Simon crashed to the floor while whimpering in pain.

"Forgive me, Malrik... I—I only wanted to stop the war," Simon pleaded, his voice trembling as he squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the worst.

Malrik glared at him and spoke, "This is the last time you’re being spared, Simon. The next time you defy my orders, no matter the reason, I won’t hesitate to kill you."

Without waiting for a response, Malrik turned on his heel and strode out, leaving the door wide open behind him.

Simon stood frozen, his chest heaving. He brought a shaky hand to his neck, and gasped when he saw blood smeared across his fingers.

His breathing grew ragged because of the panic attack. He tried calming himself by taking deep breaths. Finally, after a struggle of more than a minute, Simon was able to calm himself down.

His eyes were brimmed with tears, and he knew what he had to do next.

Simon stood up and picked up his phone. Caleb had replied him. He locked the screen without replying him. The next moment, he quietly left the pack house.

~~~~

"Alpha, Simon is here to see you," the house butler informed Lucien, who was strolling through the moonlit garden, a cigarette resting between his fingers.

Lucien didn’t pause. "Bring him here."

The butler gave a curt bow and disappeared. Moments later, he returned with Simon in tow before quietly excusing himself, leaving the two men alone.

Lucien’s gaze fell immediately on Simon’s disheveled appearance. His blood-stained t-shirt, the claw marks etched into his neck, it didn’t take much to piece together the story. He took a slow drag from his cigarette as his eyes narrowed.

"What’s this?" he asked, gesturing toward the torn shirt and injuries.

Simon didn’t meet his eyes. "Delia is working with Malrik," he began. "When I returned, I found them speaking in private. She’s confident she can defeat you... and getting her out to bring her to you, was impossible for me."

Lucien exhaled a long puff of smoke and lowered his hand, the glow of the cigarette tip dimming.

"I can see that," he murmured. "But then why are you here, Simon? If you’d succeeded in bringing her, our negotiation would’ve already begun."

"I know," Simon admitted, shame creeping into his voice. "I failed in that. But I can still help. I know of the secret passageways leading directly inside the pack borders. You can use them to get in undetected."

Lucien studied him in silence for a moment, then asked, "And why should I trust you? What proof do I have that you’re not playing both sides, helping your brother from within?"

Simon lifted his eyes and met Lucien’s stare with surprising steadiness. "If that were true... I wouldn’t have come back at all. Malrik found out I was here before. He tried to kill me. The only reason I’m alive is because he gave me one last chance. But I know, I’m already dead to him."

He didn’t voice the plea that hung in his eyes, but Lucien could read it clearly: ’Please trust me. Give me a chance to prove my loyalty.’

Lucien took another thoughtful drag of his cigarette. "What if we ambush your pack tonight?" he asked, watching Simon closely. "Will you help me then?"

Without hesitation, Simon nodded. "I will."