Chapter 6 An Impossible Choice

(Elias)

I watched the scene unfold with a mixture of dread and anticipation. My brother Jasper stood on the raised platform, a self-satisfied smirk plastered on his face as he surveyed the assembled crowd. Beside him, a group of our pack’s elite warriors flanked him, their expressions stern and vigilant. But my attention was fixed on the slender figure standing on Jasper’s right. 

My mate. Iris.

“Our mate looks so thin. They must have treated her pretty bad,” my wolf’s voice echoed in my mind, a growl of disapproval lacing his words. 

His anger mirrored my own, a seething rage simmering just beneath the surface. 

Iris’s once vibrant green eyes now seemed dull, shadows darkening the skin beneath them. Her auburn hair, while used to flow like a river of fire, hung limp around her face. The sight of her, so diminished, sent a pang of guilt through my heart. This was my doing, my fault for abandoning her and the pack when they needed me most. 

I studied the people on the stage, especially my brother Jasper. A year ago, I was blissfully unaware of the brewing storm, living in the protective bubble our father had created for me. Ignorant of the resentment festering within the pack, I believed in the inherent goodness of people, in love and kindness. 

Everything changed when our father succumbed to a sudden illness. Jasper had rallied a force with such speed and precision that it left me questioning the circumstances of our father’s death. Was it truly a natural illness, or had Jasper played a part in it? 

My conscience haunted me day and night, the guilt of abandoning my pack and Iris gnawing at my soul. But I couldn't afford to let my emotions dictate my actions. As the Lycan King, I had responsibilities that extended beyond personal feelings. I had to be strong, unwavering. 

In my time spent in the woods, I became a rouge. It was during those solitary months that my wolf awoke, emerging with a power and presence that set me apart from the other rouges. Bigger, with shining black fur, and piercing blue eyes, my wolf commanded respect. My own eyes had changed too, shifting from brown to the same striking blue as my wolf’s. 

For months, I roamed the territories, visiting packs that still recognized the Lycan bloodline. I established my position, liberating many packs from tyrannical Alphas and restoring order where chaos had reigned. But news of my own pack reached me only through whispers and rumors, carried by the grapevine of the rogue network. 

Then the invitation came. A summons from Jasper to attend a ceremony came, inviting me. The sheer audacity of it infuriated me. For days, I seethed, my anger a palpable force that kept everyone at a distance. My wolf was equally incensed, but there was a glimmer of hope in his fury. He wanted revenge for a while now.

Iris was not to become Jasper’s Luna. That small mercy was enough to temper our rage. 

But before I revealed my identity as Elias, the true Lycan King, I needed to know more. I needed to understand the dynamics at play, to gather information that would allow me to strike with precision and purpose. 

I watched the shadows, careful not to draw any attention to myself. My wolf paced restlessly within me, eager to confront Jasper and reclaim our rightful place, but I knew we had to be patient. Acting impulsively could jeopardize everything. 

Jasper’s voice cut through the crowd, his tone dripping with authority. 

I kept my eyes on the ground. The crowd’s response was a mixture of subdued agreement and reluctant acceptance. It was clear that Jasper had a firm grip on them, his reign maintained through fear and manipulation. 

My jaw clenched as I observed the scene, turning out his words. My anger toward him grew with each passing moment. 

The image of Iris, standing beside Jasper like a broken doll, fueled my anger. I could see the way she avoided his gaze, the subtle flinch whenever he moved too close. It was a stark contrast to the vibrant, confident woman I remembered. The thought of what she must have endured under Jasper’s control made my blood boil. 

“I won’t reveal myself until I know more,” I reminded my wolf, who growled in frustration. “We need to be smart about this. We can’t afford to make mistakes.” 

As much as I wanted to charge onto the stage and challenge Jasper right then and there, I knew that strategy was paramount. Acting on impulse would only endanger Iris. 

Jasper’s speech went on, but I refused to listen. My eyes kept drifting back to Iris. She stood still, a shadow of her former self, her spirit seemingly crushed under the weight of my brother’s oppressive rule. My heart ached for her, for the vibrant, fiery woman I once knew, now reduced to this frail figure. 

A flicker of movement caught my attention. Iris’s gaze drifted across the crowd, a lifeless sweep until her eyes landed on me. For a moment, her expression froze. Then recognition flickered in her green eyes, followed swiftly by a wave of emotions: shock, disbelief, and then a desperate, almost frantic hope. 

Her reaction was immediate. Without a second thought, Iris broke away from the platform. She ran toward me, her movements driven by sheer determination and the hope that had ignited within her. 

And I was faced with a horrible decision.