His Lover, My Mate

Forty-Two: The Night Luna

Hey guys, so because of the glitching in Wattpad, my draft of this chapter accidentally got published instead of the actual full-length chapter. The ending in particular is VERY different. This one is much longer because there is a lot of dialogue between Aletha and Rush. I'm so sorry some of you had to read the crappier version lol

All of my other chapters were getting messed up so I had to unpublish the entire story to fix everything, get access to the actual chapter 42, and republish again. I apologize for any confusion this may have caused.

Enjoy the chapter! :)

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*Aletha*

When Aletha rose again, she was panicking. Not because the gravity of her transition finally sank in, but because she felt the air suffocating her. Something wasn't right. The Night Pack always carried a darker miasma than the Shadow Pack, but there was more blood and death in the air than usual. There was the influence of something evil and not entirely living, and that made her rise from the bed and dart toward the windows.

The rays of the sun were faint, but the sky was painted with many different hues of violet and red. As beautiful as it was, Aletha knew better. Something had vastly changed in the span of her sleep. A war was coming. She could feel it. Whatever had changed overnight, she suspected that was just the first wave of a much larger orchestration.

"Sirka," Aletha began, then much more loudly: "Sirka!"

The door swung open and the female warrior came in with a startled expression. "What is it? Anything happen?"

Aletha turned away from the window, controlling her breathing. She couldn't let her panic consume her. "How long have I been sleeping? Did the vampire queen do anything? I can feel something off, Sirka. What's going on—"

Sirka held out her hand to stop her. "No, don't freak out just yet. Nothing's happened...exactly."

Aletha's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean by exactly?"

Sirka eyed her warily. "We've had some company last night," she told her very slowly. "The soulless purebloods are here, with their sire, the King of the Bloodlands. Lord Kellhum."

Kellhum.

"Rush's brother," Aletha realized. Why was he here? Whatever the reason, the intention was ill. From what Aletha could tell, besides Rush's sisters, his blood relatives longed to see him suffer. That idea itself sent fire through her veins. Something close to a growl escaped her throat, and she stopped herself by clutching her neck. "What does he want?"

"Not sure what he wants exactly, but Vicera apparently summoned him to give her more power. After she took his blood and sacrificed her men to perform blood magic, her miasma expanded."

So that was what Aletha felt as soon as she awoke. It was this oppressive, suffocating feeling of hollowness. And it had blood all over it.

"We're in trouble, aren't we?" Aletha asked Sirka.

"Not even close," Sirka scoffed. "They can try to intimidate with the magic and the power they claim are superior than any in the realm, but we know that's all a bluff. We have more men and we have more allies than her pathetic Castira and the Bloodlands."

"How do you know that? Do you know exactly what her power can do?" Aletha demanded, glaring at her. "Don't just underestimate her. My former Alpha once did and look where he is now. His bones were turned to char in that fire. No matter how much the warriors tried to extinguish the fire, it couldn't be burned out, because Vicera charmed the fire to remain eternal until all the wolves in the Ironlands died! She is vicious, and she is not afraid to play dirty. I know it first-hand, and I know Rush knows it too. So don't sugarcoat the reality from me. I know we're in trouble."