Betrayed by Blood, Claimed by the Alpha-Chapter 153

Betrayed by Blood

Chapter 153

Cain sat in his office, his fingers drumming against the table, tongue poking his cheek as he listened to what Lydia had to say. He nodded, scanning the list Lydia had passed to him. Lydia stood nearby, arms crossed, waiting for a response.

"Nathan and Xander should be able to send these over within the next few days," Cain muttered, scanning the list once more. "The extra weapons and medical supplies will be necessary in case we run into further trouble. Make sure they understand the urgency."

Lydia nodded, "I’ll send it to them immediately."

Cain nodded, getting right into the other things he needed to do. He looked up when he noticed Lydia still standing around. Cain leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temple before exhaling sharply. "What else?"

Lydia hesitated for a moment, then straightened. "Kendra is awake."

Cain’s gaze flickered up to her, unreadable.

"And?" he asked, his voice level.

"When will she be returning to the dungeon?" Lydia asked, her expression impassive, though he could see the expectation in her eyes.

Cain opened his mouth to respond, but before a single word could leave his lips, the door to the office burst open with a loud thud. A guard rushed in, breathless, eyes wide with urgency.

"Alpha Cain," the guard panted, bowing his head briefly. "King Alaric is at the border."

Silence stretched for a beat before Cain slowly straightened in his chair, his jaw tightening.

Lydia stiffened beside him, exchanging a glance with Cain, who exhaled through his nose, irritation flickering across his face.

"Of course he is," Cain murmured, standing smoothly. He turned his sharp gaze to the guard. "Gather my men. We’ll go welcome him."

Lydia nodded and followed Cain out of the office. "Just so you know, this is happening because you refused his summons," Lydia whispered as they walked towards the door.

Cain arched an eyebrow, glancing back at Lydia. "So this is my fault?"

Lydia didn’t reply; she only glanced back at him, shrugging. "Well, it’s not like I was expecting the man to jump through all hurdles and come here."

"You’re taking over the Silvermoon pack, Cain. He would jump through seven fires and oceans to get here if need be," Lydia replied quietly as they finally made it to the door. All the men had gathered, ready to welcome the unwelcome guest.

Cain stood at the entrance, tall and proud. Lydia stood a few feet behind him. They could see the king’s entourage coming in, and soon they stopped right where Cain and his people were waiting.

The king got down from the car, dressed in a navy blue regalia. The cold air swooshed against his face, he took a step forward, a small smile on his face.

"Alpha Cain of Vehiron," he announced.

Cain stepped forward as all his men, including Lydia, bowed to the king. "No prior notice, your majesty?"

At this, Alaric frowned slightly, and then it was gone like it was never there. He looked around for a second before his gaze settled on Cain again. "Ah, I was passing by and thought what good would it make to pass by the wealthiest and largest pack in the region without visiting." He paused, his gaze flickering around the people behind Cain. "I didn’t cause too much of a ruckus, now, did I?"

Cain’s lips curled slightly, a smirk just shy of mocking. "Of course not. We’re always prepared to receive the king," he replied.

Alaric’s expression didn’t change, but something in his eyes glimmered—subtle amusement. "Are you?"

Cain didn’t look away. "Of course." Cain shifted his stance, nodding toward the packhouse. "You’re welcome inside. We can speak there."

Alaric exhaled through his nose, a sound almost like a chuckle. "No. This time, I’d like to see your pack properly."

Cain stilled. It wasn’t an insult, not exactly, but it was something. Cain’s jaw ticked once before he gave a single nod. "Very well." He turned slightly. "Bring the horses."

His men moved quickly, the steeds brought forward, and within moments, the horses were before them. Cain got on his while Alaric did the same, settling onto the horse.

And so they rode—side by side.

They rode in silence for a while, the only sounds the rhythmic thud of hooves against the dirt and the distant hum of the pack going about its day.

Then Alaric spoke, his voice smooth. "I got your message."

Cain didn’t react, keeping his eyes forward, but he felt the weight of the king’s gaze settling on him.

Alaric exhaled sharply, glancing at him. "Matt’s head, really?"

Cain shrugged, his grip on the reins loose. "It was a gift."

A scoff left Alaric’s lips, almost like he was amused. He then nodded, as if making peace with it, before shifting the topic. "Silvermoon Pack?"

Cain’s fingers twitched slightly. "What about it?"

Alaric’s eyes flickered with something keen, something knowing. "It’s good that your vision extends that far." He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle. "But you can’t have Silvermoon."

Cain turned his head slightly, meeting the king’s gaze head-on. His lips curled, not in a smile. "I didn’t ask for your permission."

Alaric’s smirk didn’t waver, but there was a glint in his eyes now, something colder. He tilted his head slightly, as if considering Cain’s words, as if he were amused by them.

"You’re bold," Alaric said, his tone almost thoughtful. "Always have been." He glanced away, taking in the land around them, the people who stopped to bow as they rode by. "That’s why your pack thrives. Why it’s the largest, the strongest."

Cain didn’t reply. He wasn’t interested in empty praises, especially not from a man like Alaric.

"But," Alaric continued, his gaze flicking back to Cain. "Silvermoon is a different matter. Its lands, its people, its resources—those are mine to oversee. You stepping in without my blessing?" He exhaled sharply. "That’s a problem."

Cain’s jaw tightened slightly. "Silvermoon is leaderless. Weak. I took it because no one else was strong enough to. It’s not just mine because I got rid of the snake that is Matt but because I earned it."

"And yet you did it without speaking to me first," Alaric mused. "That’s not how this works."

Cain chuckled, low and humorless. "I don’t recall pledging my pack to your rule, Alaric."

The king pulled his horse to a slow stop, turning fully to face Cain now. The air between them shifted. Cain had now dropped the title he called him.

"No," Alaric admitted, his voice quieter now, almost too calm. "You never did."

Cain met his gaze, unyielding.

The silence stretched between them, until finally, Alaric exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "I expected this from you."

Cain arched a brow. "And yet, here you are."

Alaric’s smirk returned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Here I am."