Chapter Forty-Two

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"The greater the love, the greater the tragedy when it's over

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"The greater the love, the greater the tragedy when it's over." - Nicholas Sparks

It's quiet in the Dytikos house. Valen sits at an island in the kitchen, white cabinets and a fridge lining the wall in front of him. Alia remains sleeping upstairs, her rhythmic, soft breathing sounding in the back of his mind. He writes on a piece of paper, black ink drawing a map of the lands around the house. His ears listen, visualising each building and how close they are to him.

From an hour of listening to conversing wolves, Valen has surmised that he and Alia are in a place known to accommodate those who wish to visit the attractions of Dytikos — most notably the statue of Fenrir. It's probably wise to follow Gamma's orders and stay inside at all times, but Valen knows that if he has to stay cooped up in this building, then he'd start seeing it as a prison — a cell.

When speaking with his Gamma over the phone, Valen was told explicitly not to kill anyone during his time here. At first, Valen was insulted by the insinuation of having no self-control, but the male went on to tell him that there will be wolves of varying Packs living nearby. That their actions may piss him off to the point of wanting their deaths. Valen was quiet after that, wondering if he may run into Evropí wolves.

If he does, he'll kill them. Just like his Gamma said he would.

His gaze drifts to the doorway, a small smile forming on his lips. Alia would probably kill them with him, eager to share the blood on his hands. She's a fearless woman when it comes to conflict, and Valen admires her for it. But then he remembers the events in the office, and his smile drops.

He needs to apologise. Imposing his Title on Alia wasn't right. He doesn't even care about his Title when he's with her. It was just—

Valen sighs, a hand moving to his face. All he could think about was the scent of the Warrior on her lips. Resentment and anger were the only things he could feel, and at first, he couldn't figure out why. But then, after leaving her in that room, he realised it was because he wanted his scent on her lips instead.

It was all he could see. That kiss. It was tormenting him with every step he took. He could envision Yaro's body over hers. Kissing her, touching her, fucking—

The pen snaps.

Ink coats his white-knuckled fingers, staining the white island with his black thoughts. For a brief moment, Valen wanted to kill Yaro, and it frustrated him greatly. He shouldn't feel such a thing towards one of his Warriors. Especially not for kissing a woman he... cares for.

 cares for

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