Chapter 16: Shadows of Duty

*Gage Sullivan* I slumped back in my chair, feeling the heat of frustration simmer beneath my skin. The meeting room, with its heavy oak table and dark leather chairs, was closing in on me like a cage. If it weren't for the weight of family obligation keeping me in place, I would've bolted the second those rogues started jabbering about death and revenge like they were at a circus. The whole night had been nothing but a parade of chaos and nonsense. Tyron looked like he was about to join me in a blissful slumber right there, his head bobbing dangerously close to the table. I couldn't blame him, though; we were both dead on our feet after that interrogation. Steven, my Gamma, managed to keep his eyes barely open, but I could see his irritation rising with every second we wasted on this ridiculous meeting. My father, former Alpha Damian, was still red-faced and roaring about the rogue's cryptic message. Trust him to take everything personally. The older I got, the more I realized it was a family trait. We never let things slide. Every threat was a personal affront. "What does it mean, Gage? What does it mean?" he barked, his voice echoing off the walls. I didn't have a damn clue, and it was infuriating. Maybe the rogue had flipped a switch in his brain when he was turned. Maybe he was just loony. Revenge? Pacts? It all sounded like something out of a storybook, not the crap I wanted to deal with as dawn approached. Then Ariel's father pipes up, his thin lips curling in disdain. "Some cruel joke from the Moon Goddess. The same one when she thought it was funny to send us her wolfless disgrace of a daughter as a future Luna," he scoffed as if his firstborn daughter was just a bad punchline. My blood boiled, hot and wild. My wolf snarled in response, clawing at the surface, wanting to spring forth and silence that disrespectful prick. There was a moment where I faltered, the wolf threatening to break loose, but I dug my nails into my palms, desperately holding onto my humanity. Ariel deserved better than this. She wasn't a disgrace; she was my mate, a Luna who faced her own demons with bravery. I forced myself to take a deep breath, then another, trying to rein in the fury that wrapped around my heart, squeezing tight. 'Gage, keep your thoughts to yourself,' my mom's voice sliced through the mind link. Luna Elaine had the serenity of the moon, while my dad was the storm. In a matter of moments, she calmed the room with just her presence. It was as if life filled the air, easing the choked atmosphere. "Everyone, please take some time to rest. We'll gather again after we clear our heads." Finally, the adrenaline retreated as we all dispersed, leaving only the echo of frustration behind. My mother lingered, stepping closer, her expression softening. She reached out, patting the top of my head like I was still a child. "I had a dream, Gage," she said softly, her voice holding an ethereal quality. "In it, the darkness you face turned into light, and your struggles will soon be over." I let out a hollow breath. "What if the darkness has teeth, Mom? What if it bites?" She shook her head, eyes glinting with wisdom and belief. "Whatever form it takes, remember: you're not alone. Your mate is there with you. Have faith in her." Faith. That word hung heavy between us. It was easier said than done when every look I received from Ariel's father felt like a dagger, and the pack's unease loomed like shadows. I nodded, not wanting to let my worry spread further. "I'll try." With that, she stepped back, ensuring I had space to breathe. The moment she left, loneliness crept in, wrapping me in its cold embrace. The meeting's turmoil sank deep, curling around my heart. My wolf's head hung low, still simmering with the echoes of disrespect for Ariel. I pushed myself up from my chair, needing to move. The meeting room felt suffocating now—walls painted with expectations and failure. I made my way through the dimly lit halls, passing the scattered portraits of the Sullivan lineage. Each face silently whispered expectations of strength, of duty. The weight of it pressed heavily against me. Outside, the chill of the early morning air greeted me like an old friend. I stepped onto the pack grounds, absorbing the quiet that draped over the territory like a blanket. The moon hung low in the sky, a pale reminder of the chaos we faced. I thought back on the rogue's words, that bitter comment on revenge... It echoed like a clock's ticking countdown. I closed my eyes briefly, calling on the strength of my wolf, wishing for courage instead of anger as I tried to solidify my thoughts. The bond I shared with Ariel tightened in my chest. I would protect her. It didn't matter who said what, didn't matter what curses lay upon us. My wolf and I were fierce, and together we would rise to meet whatever darkness waited ahead. The cool breeze whispered promises as I turned, peering deep into the dawn, brushing my fingertips over the bark of an ancient tree, the source of countless stories. The pact of blood, of family, of love—it all coiled like a serpent within me, stirring something almost primal. The game was afoot, and I was ready. I just needed to find answers. "When the full moon bleeds crimson, and shadows stir forgotten oaths, a pact from the past beckons you, leading down the path of the fallen." The words of the loony rogue before he snapped his own f*****g neck resounded in my head again, stirring something in my chest. Letting out a heavy sigh, I headed back. I dragged my feet up the creaky stairs of the packhouse, my mind still spinning from the chaos of the meeting. The attack on the perimeter had been a jarring reminder of the thin veil between our world and the darkness lurking just beyond it, but I was determined to shove it aside. I didn't need to add more clutter to my already tortured thoughts, so I forced myself to focus on something equally important—sleep. As I slid beneath the frayed covers of my bed, I couldn't shake the gnawing feeling that something monumental was brewing. The visions of crimson moons and the loony rogue's dark prophecy clawed at the back of my mind, but I drowned them out with a powerful sleeping pill that felt more like a sledgehammer to my racing thoughts. I needed to escape, even if just for a few hours. When I awoke, the sun was slouching low in the sky, casting long shadows over the packhouse. The meeting was about to resume, and I could already sense the electricity in the air—a mix of unease and anticipation. As I made my way back to the meeting room, I steeled myself to voice my resolve. I was ready to call for backup, ready to seek out whatever help we needed to quell the storm gathering on our doorstep. Walking into the room was like stepping into a live wire. All eyes turned to Luna Elaine, my mother, who commanded the floor. I could see the interplay of apprehension and reverence among the pack members. She had always been the heart of our community, a strong thread woven into the fabric of our pack's identity. "It's done," she announced, her voice steady yet filled with an underlying tension. "I've contacted an old friend who will help us deal with the recent disturbances." Curiosity buzzed around the room like a swarm of bees. My father was visibly uneasy. He paced up and down, his furrowed brow making him look a decade older. "Are you sure about this, Elaine?" His voice was low but soaked with concern. "That man has a reputation… You really think it's wise to reach out to him?" There it was. The ominous air shifted again. Whoever this "friend" was, he wasn't merely a casual acquaintance. Something heavy clung to the mention, something that made my pulse quicken against my better judgment. "Relax, Damian," she assured, her eyes glinting with determination. "There's no threat from him. He's not the devil some people claim him to be—but he may turn dangerous if provoked." She paused, gauging the room's breath as she dropped the name: "He's known as a Soulstealer. His name is Vador Blackthorn, and he owes me a favor equivalent to a saved life." The room fell into stunned silence, and my heart flipped—a warning bell sounded inside my chest. Not just a defector of some nebulous danger, but a Soulstealer. The very name conjured up tales wrapped in shadows and myth, dangerous and dark. My skin tingled at the thought of such power swirling around my mother's circle of friends. "Do you really think he'll help?" Steven piped up, eyes wide. "What's his incentive? That kind of man doesn't just step in for free." "Because I saved his life once," My mother replied, her tone softening, revealing a glimmer of their history. She continued, "Vador understands the balance of the world, and right now, our problems may just align with his own interests. But we must receive his help with gratitude—not as a threat." Questions and tension hung heavy in the air. As my thoughts whirled, a single sliver of curiosity began to take root: what sort of bond had my mother forged with such a persona? The name sent a shiver through me, for it felt steeped in golden threads of ancient magic and worrisome shadows. And then, there was that gnawing feeling within me—a mixture of intrigue and dread, as if a door I couldn't see was creaking open in my mind. I recalled old tales told under full moons, tales of forbidden romances and bittersweet pacts, of restless souls caught in dimensions unseen. The room buzzed around me, but I felt detached, crumbling under the weight of my own spiraling thoughts. What kind of man was this Vador Blackthorn? I had to know. Not merely for the pack's safety, but for the whisper curling through my heart, enticing me forward, unraveling with each mention—what child of fate had crossed paths with my mother, and what darkness had she chosen to embrace? I stepped into the tense atmosphere of the meeting room, and my voice cut through the murmurs, steady and reassuring. "If Vador Blackthorn is a friend of my mother, then the Silver Valley will welcome him with kindness and respect." I glanced around at the pack members, their faces a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "I am grateful for the help he's provided, and I ask you to arrange everything with him. Let me know when we can expect his arrival." The slight nod from my mother, who had spoken on Vador's behalf, showed her approval, but I could feel the weight of my own emotions simmering beneath the surface. This was no ordinary visitor; he was a thread linking me to the mother I barely knew, to a past tangled in shadows. Then I turned my attention to Tyron, who leaned against the wall, his expression a mix of determination and concern. I reached out through our mind link, feeling the familiar rush of connection. 'Plans have changed,' I told him, my thoughts clear and urgent. 'We leave for Sanguis Luna after Blackthorn arrives. Until then, the mission to bring back Ariel is suspended.' His gaze sharpened, a flash of understanding igniting in his eyes. 'You think he holds information about her?' 'Something tells me he does—more than just her whereabouts.' In my mind, the whispers of my mother's words swirled, teasing the edges of my resolve. 'There's something I need to confirm.' Tyron nodded slightly, acknowledging the weight of the decision. 'Alright, Alpha, but don't let your guard down. I will pass on information to the scouts.' I released the mind link and returned my focus to the room, where my high-ranking members awaited further direction. The air crackled with tension and a flicker of hope. "I trust my mother, our Luna, and if that man is our solution, we will accept whatever he offers with open arms. Let's hope that by then we won't have to deal with any further attacks." With that, I felt the stirrings of my resolve solidify. This was about more than just our safety—it was about uncovering the truth stitched into the fabric of our history, embracing the shadows that had long lingered in my heart.