Page 53 of Destined to the Lycan (The Shadow Realms #3)

Lyall

I flew in circles over Amara’s house for hours.

Although I doubted any danger would come to Amara and the pup, I stupidly felt duty bound to remain here until she was cured.

Every time I would zoom past her bedroom, the urge to go inside and slaughter the pup swelled within me.

Fate had it wrong. Amara should be mine.

The taste of her memories never faded from my tongue.

I wanted to bite her again to bask in the perfection that she was.

How could a mere mortal possess such a beautiful soul?

My chest ached remembering how she caressed my cheek on my balcony.

I could still feel this softness of her palm on me.

The tenderness in her eyes as she gazed upon me stabbed at the deep longing that tore me apart for her.

If not for that wretched wolf, she would have fallen in love with me.

Once again, I fought the urge to yield to my base instincts and slit his throat.

Yes, Amara would be devastated by his death, but I could easily fill her mind with happiness.

In fact, I could kill him and take over his appearance.

She would be none the wiser. Before, I couldn’t fool her since I had never tasted his blood.

But now, I knew every single memory he shared with her, everything that he was, even down to his scent.

She would never know, and she would be mine…

I completed another circle around the house and hovered in front of her window. The usurper was cuddling against my female peacefully sleeping while enjoying the paradise I had created for her. It should be me showing her the wonders of both the human realm and the netherworld.

I landed on the windowsill and seriously weighed the pros and cons.

A few weeks ago, I wouldn’t even be debating.

The wretch would be long dead. But Amara’s blood changed something in me.

She had awakened what she would describe as a softer side that I deemed a shameful weakness.

I didn’t want to admire the selfless devotion he showed her.

I didn’t want to hold myself back to honor her personal desires.

My whole life, I always indulged in whatever I fancied. If I wanted to kill, I did. If wreaking havoc, causing chaos, and spreading fear and terror was my latest form of entertainment, I would dive headfirst into it until I got bored or a new interest claimed my attention.

And this was the main reason I was now holding myself back.

Was Amara just the latest fleeting passion burning within me? Would I tire of playing house with her in a few weeks or months? The nagging voice at the back of my head swore that this was different. I would love her always. Moreover, I could give her the type of life the pup never could.

But what if the voice is wrong?

The old me wouldn’t have cared. Whatever happened, happened.

And if she got hurt in the process, oh well, such was life.

But I couldn’t bear the thought that I would be the cause of any sorrow or distress Amara could feel.

To add insult to injury, her words still echoed deeply in my mind.

As much as I wanted her to be mine, Fate had decided otherwise.

Creating an illusion where she would happily share her life with me would only be poisoned in the long term.

I wanted her to love me for me, not because I made her believe she did.

We both deserved better.

And as much as I resented the Lycan, I didn’t truly want to harm him.

In a different world and a different time, I might have wanted a friendship with him.

He showed me the type of trust no one had ever given me before.

He left in my care the one thing he valued more than his own life.

And then thanked me with a genuine gratitude that still rankled.

Nine Hells, how I hate him!

Ignoring the mocking voice at the back of my head calling me a liar, I flew back to the entrance of the house.

Less than thirty minutes remained before the moon would reach its full phase and the shitshow would begin.

With heavy steps, I climbed the stairs to the second floor.

I entered the room and went directly to Remus.

Silencing the less-than-charitable thoughts crossing my mind, I picked him up and carried him to another room at the opposite end of the hallway.

Saying that I didn’t consider tossing him over the railing or letting him tumble down the stairs would be a lie.

Obviously, Amara wouldn’t have approved.

But there was no crime in entertaining the idea.

I dropped him unceremoniously onto the bed then walked out of the room, closing the door behind me.

Whatever my feelings about the situation, letting him awaken in his werewolf form next to Amara held too high a risk that he might instinctively kill her before he could at least try to get his feral nature under control.

As I approached Amara’s bedroom, all thoughts of the Lycan vanished from my mind as I felt a foreign presence seconds before I even entered her room.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw Pharos standing by the bed.

Ominous with his black wings, dark hood which partially covered his face, and the bones of his ribs protruding through the skin, the Angel of Death was looming over my woman.

“Why are you here?!” I demanded angrily as I marched towards the bed.

He lifted his head and gave me an amused smile.

His red eyes sparkled with mischief as he raised an eyebrow in a way that implied I’d asked a silly question.

As all the other Reapers, be they Angels of Death like him, or Grims like our brother Haroth, Pharos’s eyes were a little sunken, the skin around his eyes receding to leave the bones exposed, not to mention the three bone spikes that jutted out of his chin.

He was as handsome as he was scary.

“Hello to you, too, little brother,” Pharos responded mockingly. “And you know perfectly well why I’m here. Amara will be dead in the next few minutes.”

“It may be so, but you can’t take her!” I exclaimed, outraged. “She is to be reborn!”

He gave me the obnoxiously soft and appeasing smile he normally reserved to the dying to comfort them before he escorted them to the other side.

“Yes, Lyall. She is hopefully to be reborn. Whether or not it occurs, it won’t be right away,” he explained in a gentle voice. “It takes a few days for the mutation to be completed. Amara’s soul must go to a safe place in the meantime.”

“The dead don’t return once they’ve crossed over!” I argued angrily.

He gave me an indulgent smile as he nodded. “If they go to the afterlife, then yes, you would be correct. But Amara is going to Erebus. It is not limbo, but just an in between for people in special circumstances. Charon will find a nice place for her to wait out her rebirth.”

I scrunched my face, fighting the urge to argue some more.

In a way, the aggravation I felt stemmed more from the fact that I knew better but had allowed panic to cloud my judgment.

Hell’s breath, how pathetic I had become over a woman who didn’t even want me…

Charon, the Ferryman of the dead, would indeed find a beautiful place for her soul to wait until her body was ready for her return.

I still hated the thought that she would be taken to a place where I couldn’t follow or rescue her from.

“Fine,” I grumbled at last.

Pharos chuckled in a way that immediately had my hackles up.

“What’s so funny?” I asked with irritation.

“It is good to see you finally care about someone else more than yourself,” he said softly.

I bared my fangs at him, which only made his smile broaden, pissing me off further.

“For all the good it did me,” I growled bitterly.

My brother shook his head at me as if I was a lost cause.

“It did, you fool! It did you an incredible favor,” Pharos countered.

“How?” I challenged angrily. “By making me ache for what I can’t have?”

“By saving your life,” Pharos said, his voice and face hardening.

I recoiled, shocked by his statement. While Reapers and Angels of Death were not bound by truth like doppelgangers and demon wolves, Pharos had never been one to lie or prone to exaggeration. He always meant what he said. And this time again, I didn’t doubt that he did.

“You were going down a dark path, Lyall,” he continued mercilessly. “Remember that I can see everyone’s life thread. You, little brother, were headed towards an early demise. Amara gave you the opportunity to choose a different path. Luckily for you, you did. Your lifeline is no longer stunted.”

To say that these words struck me hard would be the understatement of the millennium. I could be arrogant and cocky to the point of sometimes thinking myself invincible. As so few things can harm me, I often acted recklessly. My own mortality was never something I even contemplated.

“Maybe that would have been a blessing,” I surprised myself muttering. “What’s the point of an empty life once you’ve tasted happiness? There’s a reason she doesn’t want to live if he doesn’t.”

“I want to smack you so hard right now,” Pharos said with an irritation that stunned me.

“Stop being a spoiled brat. You have no idea how many wonderful paths have opened up for you in the past few weeks. And one of them holds your happily ever after. But you must stay the course. Mother gave you exactly what you needed by sending Amara your way.”

“But stay the course for how long?” I demanded, annoyed with how whiny I sounded as I asked the question.

“However long it takes,” he said with a shrug.

“I already waited two hundred and fifty years! How much longer must I wait?!” I exclaimed.

My brother rolled his eyes, the effect made even more uncanny in his partially skeletal face.

“I already waited two hundred and fifty years!” he repeated in an obnoxiously entitled voice.

“So fucking what? You call Remus a pup but seem to forget that so are you. Remember that I am three times your age. I was trapped in the pure hell of Cornelius’s mind for double your lifespan before Mother freed me.

And you have the nerve to complain about being lonely while enjoying your freedom? ”

I scrunched my face, properly chastised.

“Get over yourself and count your blessings,” he concluded sternly.

I muttered an apology—another rare occurrence for me. Of all my siblings—and I had far too many to count all sired by different fathers—Pharos was one of the few I had the closest relationship with. Ranael used to be my conscience until he was taken from me.

Pharos placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“Take heart, Brother. Mother killed two birds with one stone. There was no one better than you to help save Amara. By saving her, you bring our brother Ranael closer to his own freedom. Mother took a big leap of faith in you. And you came through for all of us including our brother. I’m proud of you. ”

‘I’m proud of you…’

Those were not words spoken often about me, if ever. I huffed and shrugged to hide how deeply his words touched me. Not fooled in the least, my brother’s smile broadened, which further annoyed me.

I was looking for an appropriate snarky remark when I felt a ripple at the back of my head.

It took me a second to realize that Remus had escaped my illusion.

Normally, it would be nearly impossible for pretty much anyone, even demigods like me.

But there was one of very few things that trumped my powers.

I glanced out the window at the full moon. At the same time a terrifying howl rose a far-too-short distance away.

“You have one of the most important decisions of your life to make, my brother,” Pharos said in a soft voice. “Stay the course.”

He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze then walked to a dark corner of the room, his gait so fluid he appeared to glide over the wooden floors, as Mother often did when she moved from her spinning wheel to her table.

He then faded into the shadows, making him completely invisible.

Although I couldn’t see him, our blood bond allowed me to continue to sense his presence.

He would remain a silent observer until the time came to reap Amara’s soul.

My back stiffened upon hearing the crashing sound of a door slamming open. I silently moved to the opposite corner of the room, closer to the head of the bed, and partially morphed to also blend with the shadows.

My chest constricted as I gazed upon Amara’s peaceful face.

Even with the dark veins marring her body and the now ashen color of her skin, she remained breathtakingly beautiful.

I couldn’t do much against what would happen next, but I could spare her the pain of death.

By keeping her in the current illusion, she wouldn’t suffer through her passing.

My pulse picked up, and my spine tensed as the thumping sound of clawed paws grew nearer. A menacing growl resonated right outside the room before the door burst open. It took everything in me not to lunge at the creature that stepped in.

Standing on two legs, claws extruded, vicious fangs bared, the werewolf stood in the doorway, white foam clinging to the corner of its maw.

Unlike when a Lycan partially shifted, the werewolf didn’t have a recognizable human face.

He fully had a wolf head with a much larger jaw, crazy glowing red eyes, and elongated arms. The only thing he still had in common with the pup, was the color of the short fur covering his body, and his long fluffy tail

Aside from that, Remus was nowhere to be found in this beast.