CHAPTER 5

Damon hated the words as they tumbled out his mouth. When he said them, he thought of them as a lie. He would do anything in his power to avoid slaughtering the witches and starting another war, but what if there was truly no stopping it? What if the Scanthin acted against them, and they were the ones to start it? What if he had no choice but to act and protect the wolves? Would he hesitate then?

"As you say," Stanley said. "Then we will leave to prepare to fulfill your commands."

Damon waved a hand, and the wolves shuffled away, leaving Damon alone inside the main room of the tree with nothing but the crackling fire to interrupt the silence.

Sweet silence.

The wolves of Scanthin meant nothing to him. That was a fact. He had fallen in love with a witch from Scanthin, Star Kante who became uncontrollable and unstoppable because of her powers . She killed a lot of wolves , she was feared and it took a while for her to be captured. Damon loved her so much and so it took a while to get over her before he met Helen Cub .

It had killed Damon to watch her die and the fact that he couldn't help her. When he tried very hard, he could still feel Star's gentle touch in his memories, could still see her kind eyes and soft smile. She had been nothing like the woman he loved after she became evil. Witches were hard, cruel creatures who took what they wanted and didn't think twice about who they hurt in the process. He had tried every means to make him like them.

And in a way, he was. On the outside, he put on the mask of a ruthless killer, the cruel Alpha that the wolves wanted and needed.

His dying father looked up to him even though he barely trusted Damon's decisions.

Damon wouldn't make the same mistake. He wore his father's lessons like a sword and shield, but inside, it was his father's harsh voice guiding him. Or trying to. He couldn't let too much of him out into the world, or else the wolves would think he was weak.

Damon was anything but weak.

Damon's heart hardened as he thought about his Star's death. Family was everything to him. It had been until her death, and until Damon ordered her death at his father's command threatened to throw Damon into a dark spiral. It was the throne, and the responsibilities that came with it, that had dragged him up out of that mess.

When Damon looked at Stanley , all he saw was family. He saw a wolf who had been by his side since they were both young whelps, someone he had grown up with and learned from. Someone he loved, even if he would never admit it out loud.

And that's why Theo knew he would have to be the one to stop this war before it started, even if none of them could understand his attachment to the witches . Even if he had to hide it like it was a rotten piece of meat inside of him. Like something that should be cut out and thrown away.

To the rest of the wolves , it was. The witches had contaminated him by heart .

He was lucky they let him become their prince, and soon, their king.

Damon pushed himself up from the throne, striding down the steps of the dais toward the fire. As he did so, a terrible chill came over his left hand. The green, tattooed whorls there had covered his skin since the witch Star swore herself to him, and he to her. Now, the vines and the delicate leaves were slowly turning black and beginning to peel away.

He cursed under his breath. Good thing the Wolves had left his presence already, because if they had been there, he wouldn't have been able to hide the meaning of the changing tattoo for long.

It meant Star was an oath breaker.

Even now, Damon could sense her warm presence off in the distance, racing away from him. Less than a week from their wedding, the only conceivable meaning was that she'd decided to become evil before the wolves of his clan captured her.

But what had changed her mind? Why wait until the last minute to flee and become evil ? He was curious

His teeth ground in his skull. Her poor decision-making skills had backed him into a corner. If she hadn't wanted to marry him, some other witch could have. She chose this fate, not him.

Now, it was too late for the plan to change. Every step she took sealed her fate as a traitor.

And brought them all one step closer to doom.

Damon threw a cloak over his shoulders and instead of leaving the tree after the other wolves , he went deeper into the tree structure. He needed to see the witch of Scanthin , and he couldn't do it alone. He walked straight to the dungeon regardless.

If she escaped, the Lauchair's and Scanthin would surely go back to war.

  ******

He stepped out from the shadows, his steps loud enough to let her know he was there. She turned to face him, and Damon 's heart clenched at the fear that flared in her eyes before she could school her features into a more neutral expression.

"You need to free me right now ," she breathed, her eyes going wide. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask the same of you," he replied. "You're not supposed to be where we found you ."

Scar swallowed hard, her gaze darting around as if she was looking for an escape route. Damon stood by the only rope ladder leading down. "I just wanted to see," she said softly. "I wanted to see what my future held."

Damon frowned as understanding dawned on him. "You thought this is where you would be kept? Locked away in a tower like a fairytale princess?"

Scar shrugged, not meeting his eyes. "It seemed likely. I ran away from home, my people will come to find me . You will need to make sure I don't escape. And after all, that's what you Wolves do with your prisoners, isn't it? Keep them locked up until they rot?"

"That's not what we do. We don't lock people up here."

"Then where are the other humans?" Scar

asked, her voice trembling. "Where are the other women?"

Once, Damon's father had a harem of slaves and tributes filled with the finest women he could get his disgusting hands on. Those who hadn't faded over the years, hadn't escaped, or been killed by the former king, Damon had freed. Along with every other captive the wolves had held, though wolves didn't usually like to keep prisoners in the first place unless they served a purpose.

"There are none. Men, women, or otherwise." He took a step closer to her, and Scar tensed but didn't move away. "You're the only one. We haven't seen a witch in a while, but here you are "

Scar stared at him, her pink lips pressed into a firm line. Her bright green eyes were narrowed in thought as she regarded him, and then her scowl deepened and she looked away, down at the twisting trees and the arrangement of rope bridges, platforms, and makeshift treehouses below.

"That's right." Venom dripped from her voice as she spoke. "Wolves prefer to twist their victims' minds rather than take prisoners. Your kind takes a sick pleasure in destroying other races. If I ever get off these chains I will have you dead ."

Damon laughed before he spoke again "I've met three of your victims, you know. My pack is full of them. One of your kind had stolen his humanity and locked it inside him, forcing him to live as a demon for two-thirds of his life. Lost to the animal and the wilderness. Another woman was torn from her mate, forced to say horrible things to him before she left to start a life elsewhere for fourteen years. Her mind was altered to believe that the child she carried when she left was from a one-night-stand. Another mate twisted himself up into a wreak for the entire time she was gone. How fucked up is that?" The fire in Damon's eyes flared with rage and challenge. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I understand that from the outside looking in, such enchantments can seem ... barbaric," Scar chose the word carefully, trying to level with what he expected her opinion to be, "however, if the alternative is death, or imprisonment until they rot, is altering their memories and sending them on their way not a kinder punishment?"

Some of the anger in Scar's expression faded, but she stayed determined in her disagreeing stare as he continued

"True, maybe leaving them free, their lives intact, is the more humane course on the surface. But with how you wolves treat it, no, it's not. You can alter someone's memories without ruining their lives and torturing their loved ones. That's the part I have an issue with."

Damon gripped the rope railing, letting it carry his weight as he leaned forward waiting for her response . "What if I told you we have no control over it?" She replied quietly

"I wouldn't believe you," Damon said. "Most shifters might only have one kind of magic at our disposal, our ability to change form between our human and animal souls, but we control it. Witches can control the effects of their spells. Same with the fae. You can't tell me that you have no control over what happens with your magic."