Chapter 148: Assassins Wolves

Words : 1488 Updated : Sep 17th, 2025

Chapter 148: Assassins Wolves Zane~ This morning had been nothing short of a wild emotional ride. From the moment I woke up, everything felt like it was teetering on the edge of unraveling. Natalie still had a death grip on her handbag, clutching it like some invisible thief was about to snatch it from her. Honestly, it looked ridiculous—but I didn’t say a word. I trusted her. Whatever she was hiding in there, I knew she’d tell me when the time was right. Natalie didn’t play games, not with me. So, I let it go and focused on the real issue staring us in the face. She finally peeled her attention away from the bag and locked eyes with me—those sharp, fiery eyes of hers burning with expectation and barely contained rage. "So what now?" she asked, her voice tight but steady like a blade being held to someone’s throat. "You stopped me from teleporting into Darius’s territory and ripping his damn throat out. Fine. But what are you going to do now, Zane? What’s the plan?" I ran a hand through my hair, exhaling slowly as I tried to think straight. "Now?" I echoed, my voice low, grounding. "Now... we go back to the drawing board. We can’t just crash into Silverfang and take Darius down, not with Dexter standing in his corner." Her jaw tightened. I saw it before I heard her bitter reply. "Shadow," she hissed like the name itself was poison. "The god of darkness," I confirmed grimly with a nod. "If he’s really thrown his lot in with Darius and Nathan, then this isn’t some petty power grab anymore. We’re looking at something a whole lot bigger. Divine warfare." I stepped away, needing a few feet of space just to breathe. My thoughts were colliding with each other, and for a moment I just stood there, staring at nothing. Then I turned back to her. "Jacob’s original plan? Useless now. No one could’ve predicted the god of darkness making an entrance. We need a new approach. One where Jacob and your other brothers take the lead. They’re the only ones with enough power and experience to even think about going up against something like this." She crossed her arms, her voice softer now but still carrying that determined edge. "Okay. I’ll get them. Tonight." I nodded, feeling a swell of relief. I’d half-expected her to fight me on that, to demand a front-row seat to the chaos. And honestly, she was powerful enough to end Darius and his crew on her own. But I didn’t want that rage inside her to consume her. Darius wasn’t worth her soul. If it were up to me, she wouldn’t be anywhere near this war. But I knew better. Natalie wasn’t the type to sit things out. "In the meantime," I said, shifting my tone, "I need to speak with my father. I have to tell him what I’ve found out about your mother’s case." But then—I froze. A voice crashed into my mind like a hurricane slamming into glass. "Zane. ZANE. I need you. Now. My chambers. Come." My chest tightened. It was my father. And he sounded... wrong. Strained. On the edge of panic. I snapped my head toward Natalie. "My father—he just called me through the link. Something’s wrong." Her eyes widened immediately. No hesitation, no questions. "Focus on him," she ordered. "Go. Now!" Before I could even reply, she spun around like a commander on the battlefield, her voice cutting through the air like thunder. "Everyone, grab hands—NOW!" Abel and Roland didn’t waste a second. They obeyed immediately. I reached for Natalie’s hand, gripping it tightly. The moment we were linked, I felt the surge of magic rush through her. The world around us cracked like glass under pressure and spun into a new reality. Then—blinding light. Searing heat. Explosive noise. And we landed, breathless, in the King’s private chambers—right in the heart of chaos. My father—King of the Lycans—was already in full shift when we arrived. He was a towering mass of fury, his wolf form colossal and commanding. Midnight-black fur shimmered with streaks of silver down his back, like lightning etched into darkness. His fangs were bared in a vicious snarl, amber eyes glowing like twin suns as he fought off a pack of massive assassin wolves. Claws scraped against stone. Shattered furniture lay in heaps. Blood streaked across the once-immaculate marble floor. Every roar from my father shook the palace down to its bones, a sound carved from wrath and desperation. There was no time to think. Instinct slammed into me like a boulder. I shifted. Bones cracked. Muscles twisted. Pain and power collided as Red, my wolf, burst from within me, howling into the chaos. My senses sharpened in an instant—the air smelled of blood, sweat, steel... and betrayal. Abel and Roland were right behind me. No hesitation. Their wolves hit the battlefield like living missiles, snarling with unfiltered rage. We didn’t hesitate. We lunged. The clash was immediate—feral and brutal. Claws raked. Jaws snapped. The air was filled with the sounds of war. One of the assassins tried to flank the king. I slammed into him mid-charge, the impact sending him hurtling into the stone wall. His skull cracked with a sickening thud. I didn’t wait—I tore into his throat before he could so much as twitch. Another attacker made the mistake of coming at my father from behind. He didn’t last long. My father spun around and struck him with a swipe so forceful, I actually heard his ribs shatter before the wolf went flying. A third tried to make a run for it. Roland intercepted him mid-air and ended him with a single, brutal snap of the neck. But they kept coming. More than a dozen. Fast. Trained. Coordinated. Too trained. Too strong. Something was off. And then—I noticed it. One of them paused mid-strike, his paw hanging awkwardly in the air. He blinked, confused, as if his mind suddenly forgot what his body was doing. Then another stumbled. And another. Their movements slowed—clumsy, sluggish, like their limbs weighed twice as much. That’s when I turned toward the door. And saw her. Natalie. She stood amidst the destruction like she was born for it—calm, commanding, and untouchably divine. Her eyes shimmered with a soft violet glow, her fingers moving through the air with slow precision, tracing runes made of light and energy. She was the storm—and the calm in the center of it. She was the reason the attackers were faltering. I could feel Red stir inside me, empowered by her presence. Our enemies were disoriented, and we weren’t about to waste the opening. We attacked with renewed ferocity. It was a slaughter. By the time the last assassin let out a dying scream, my father was already burying his massive jaws into his throat. Bone gave way like paper. The silence that followed was deafening. Blood soaked the floors. Bodies lay broken, lifeless. I shifted back first, the burn of the change quickly replaced by the ache of battle. My muscles were sore. My skin raw. But I was breathing. We all were. Well... except for the intruders. We were all completely naked, of course—standard post-shift state. But Natalie, ever the composed one, stood turned away near the door, eyes fixed on the shattered window. Her expression was unreadable. Then her hand twitched slightly. And just like that—clothes. Neatly folded garments blinked into existence, summoned from thin air by her magic. She didn’t say a word. Didn’t glance our way. Just quiet power, grace, and control. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. "Dad," I said, walking over and handing him the golden robe Natalie had conjured, "here." He took it without comment, slipping it on with a grunt and nodding his thanks. His voice cut through the silence like steel. "No one hears about this," he growled, his eyes sweeping across the bloodied room. "Not the guards. Not the servants. No one." I gave a nod, meeting his gaze. "It’ll be handled." Natalie’s voice slid into my mind through our private link, warm and assured. "I placed a bubble around the room the moment we arrived. Sound, scent, even light—nothing gets in or out." I turned back to my father with a smirk. "You don’t need to worry. I’ll make sure this stays buried." He gave me a long look—something flickering in his gaze. Maybe it was pride, maybe it was respect. Whatever it was, it faded beneath his usual granite-hard expression. "Good," he said. "Very good." I glanced around at the bodies again, the blood, the wreckage. Then my eyes found Natalie’s. She was still unreadable—but I could feel the tension radiating off her like heat from a flame. She was thinking what I was thinking. We were standing in the eye of a storm. And the worst hadn’t even begun.

Chapter 148: Assassins Wolves

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