Moonlit Vows Of Vengeance

Chapter 35: Elira’s Proposition

Chapter 35: Elira’s PropositionAthena

The Next Morning

Elira sent an invite to Lucas to "show him something important." I followed at a distance. Well I didn’t want to come but Lucas spent hours asking me to go along with him.

The place was dimly lit, high-arched, and silent save for the muffled tap of their footsteps.

"The colors are from bloodroot," she was saying, guiding him to a hanging that stretched across the far wall. "They fade over time, unless renewed."

"Impressive," Lucas said, eyes on the threadwork.

She stepped closer. "Do you believe in fate, Lucas?"

He blinked. "Excuse me?"

"I believe our kind are woven into patterns far older than we understand. You and I" Her fingers brushed his wrist again. "we’re born to be together."

Lucas took a step back, careful, measured. "I don’t really believe in fate."

She tilted her head. "You should. You should also know that wolves don’t always have the luxury of choice."

His eyes darkened. "I make my own choices."

"I wasn’t referring to you," she said softly, stepping even closer, "In fact I want you to choose me, willingly."

I stepped into the light then, arms folded. "This is quite strange, I thought you invited him to see threadwork, not threaten him with an arranged mating."

Elira didn’t flinch. "Of course, he’s here to see the thread work. I was only confessing how I felt to him. Nothing more"

Lucas looked at me. "I can give you an answer right now. ."

Elira’s eyes narrowed. "Careful, Lucas. Take more time to think about it. I really expect a positive answer from you."

I smiled coldly. "I really wouldn’t keep my hopes up if I were you."

Elira exhaled, amused. "You said you don’t want him. So why guard him like a wolf in heat?"

"A wolf in heat?" I said, stepping closer, nose to nose with her now. "Now that just sounds out right insulting.."

She snarled quietly, a flicker of fang showing, but Lucas stepped between us, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Enough," he said.

Elira’s eyes glittered like knives. "Just think about it, properly Lucas."

She turned and left, her perfume lingering like smoke.

Lucas turned to me. "I would rip out her heart for saying those words to you after getting the Kurd."

"There’s no need for you to," I said flatly.

He watched me for a long moment, then nodded. "Okay."

The moon hung high when we returned to the quarters, the cold stone beneath our feet heavy with warning. I could still hear Genrik’s arrows in my memory, each whistle a message, each strike a threat. Wolves hunted on their own.

Hiss eyes were fixed on the dark corners of the room, still alert even in rest. We couldn’t afford to let our guard down—not here.

"We can’t overpower it," I said finally. "You saw how fast it heals. It won’t part with the Kurd unless it thinks it’s obeying its master."

Lucas grunted. "And Genrik will never let go of the Kurd"

"No," I said. "But we don’t need him. We just need something of his. His scent."

Lucas’s head turned slowly. "Go on."

"You know that," I continued, "we’re guided by scent more than sight or voice. The beast is monstrous, but it still recognizes loyalty to its creator. That loyalty’s built on scent. If we trick it into thinking we are Genrik..."

"We could ask for the Kurd directly," Lucas murmured, catching on. "Make it, give it to us willingly."

"But we’d need the right trigger," I said. "And the scent has to be bloodline-deep. Not just his clothes. It has to come from his body."

Lucas narrowed his eyes. "Hair."

I nodded. "Exactly. Just a strand should do."

Lucas straightened from the wall. "And how exactly do you propose we get that?"

"Elira."

He froze.

I waited.

"She’s his daughter," I said softly. "Same blood. Same scent. You said it yourself, bloodline carries through the skin."

He made a low sound in his throat. "So how are we going to get her hair without her suspecting us."

I smirked. "She already thinks you’re hers. You could just go somewhere with her or visit her and get close enough to get a hair strand from her hair."

Lucas looked away sharply, pacing once before facing me again. "No. I’m not doing it."

"Lucas—"

"No."

"It’s the only way."

"I’d rather wrestle that thing again."

I rose, stepping into his path. "This mission is more than us. You know that. You know what’s at stake. The Moon Goddess is fading. If we don’t get the Kurd—"

"I know what’s at stake!" he snapped, then exhaled and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I know. Damn it, I know."

I lowered my voice. "Then do what needs to be done. Get close to her. Charm her. Just enough to get a hair strand."

Lucas looked at me,