"You should feel the same too. After all, you are branded as a criminal now, and Finn wants you back to properly execute you, just like what the Unified Alliance wanted," Rion said.
I masked the sting with a tight smile, forcing steel into my voice.
"I should thank you, then," I said, meeting his eyes. "I’m sure the moment they heard I had anything to do with you, they decided to grant me a death sentence instead of letting Finn deal with my punishment. Thinking it would spite you."
Ares’s grin spread wide. He leaned forward on his elbows.
"That makes sense. They can only provoke the Alpha with silly gestures like that. They can’t do any real harm to us." His grin grew, triumphant, as if he relished the thought of the Alliance gnashing their teeth in helpless rage.
Diaval tilted his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. His brown eyes caught the dim light, reflecting it like fire trapped in amber.
"It’s really a shame," he drawled. "If they attacked us head on, we’d finally have an excuse to kill them all."
Raye groaned, long and dramatic. "Bloodshed is not the most enjoyable thing, Diaval. Honestly, why don’t you get one or two more hobbies? Read a book, paint something, I don’t know. Get a life, old man."
Diaval’s gaze cut toward her, carrying the kind of quiet threat that could make most men falter.
"Old man?" he echoed, voice cool, brow arching. "I am only older than you by a decade. That is hardly old, Raye."
She smirked, leaning back with her arms folded, her tone turning sly. "Old enough to have gray hair coming in soon. And with no mate, no lover, not even a fling? You’ll grow ancient and alone, Diaval. You terrify women before they can get within three feet of you."
Ares burst out laughing, slapping the table so hard the sound echoed. "Gods, she’s right. I’ve seen it. One glare from you and they scatter like frightened deer. You could clear out Ambrosia just by walking in with that face."
Diaval’s eyes narrowed into slits, his smirk turning razor sharp. "I do not terrify them. I simply don’t waste my time chasing weak hearts."
Raye tilted her head, feigning pity. "Is that what you tell yourself? Because from where I stand, it looks like you’ll be sharpening your sword alone for the rest of your life."
Ares leaned back, grinning like the devil himself, broad shoulders shaking with amusement.
"Meanwhile," he said proudly, "I can’t stop them from chasing me. It’s a curse, really." He spread his arms as though showing off invisible admirers draped over him. "One smile, one drink, and they’re all lining up. What can I say? Some of us are just blessed."
Raye rolled her eyes but didn’t hide her smirk. "Blessed? Try unbearable. You strut around like the world owes you worship, Ares."
"And yet," he drawled, his grin widening, "they keep coming back for more. Unlike Diaval here, who can’t keep one around long enough to finish a drink."
"Keep talking," Diaval muttered, his tone low, dangerous, though his lips still curved in that predatory smirk. "One day, both of you will regret it."
"Oh, I’m already regretting it," Raye teased, her hazel eyes glinting. "Not for what I said—but for knowing you’ll probably still be grumpy and alone a couple of decades later."
Diaval just shook his head.
I turned to Rion.
"So," I asked, my gaze holding his, "when will you teach me how to tap into the Celestial Wolf’s energy?"
Rion studied me in silence, his gaze sweeping over me as though measuring every flaw, every weakness. It wasn’t curiosity in his eyes, it was assessment.
"First," he said at last, sounding thoughtful, "we need to get you in the best shape."
"You’re too thin," he went on with a mocking smirk. "Too fragile. Must be caused by the years of low nutrition and slavery—"
"I wasn’t a slave," I cut him off, my brows knitting together in annoyance. "I was a servant."
He tilted his head, silver hair shifting with the motion. "But you were treated like a slave, weren’t you?"
The air left my chest. I opened my mouth, then closed it again. Words failed me.
Rion’s jaw flexed. "That’s why you can’t really make me feel guilty for burning those people’s homes. They deserve it."
My pulse spiked. Anger surged, forcing my voice out before I could think. "The children and innocents didn’t deserve—"
"What children? What innocents?" Ares cut across me, sounding genuinely baffled. His thick brows furrowed. For a moment he looked at me as if I’d grown another head.
Then something seemed to click. His face lit up. "Ah, you’re talking about the fire in Levian pack?" He turned toward Diaval, a crooked grin spreading across his mouth. "Didn’t we only burn the council house and the council members’ estates? Most of the townsfolk were in the square for the gathering, weren’t they?"
Diaval only looked at him as he leaned back in his chair, arms folding loosely.
Realization dawned on me.
I was far from the town when the fire broke out and I barely saw anything other than fire and some smoke, but in my head, I had seen it so vividly... the town swallowed in flames, children screaming from their beds, families burning alive in their homes.
That was what I thought happened. I believed that him, the Alpha of Undercity, was capable of such cruelty without hesitation.
But it seemed it hadn’t been like that at all.
I looked at Raye, and as if she knew the question in my mind, she nodded slowly.
I dropped my gaze to the table, unable to keep the confusion off my face.
Did that mean... Rion hadn’t burned an entire town of innocents alive? Had I been clinging to my prejudices all this time?
If that was the case, then I must have been really harsh with Rion the previous night.
"Hmm... are you disappointed that I didn’t burn everyone?" his teasing tone didn’t make me feel any better.
Damn, I couldn’t even look at him.