Page 82 of Destined to the Lycan
“It did, you fool! It did you an incredible favor,” Pharos countered.
“How?” I challenged angrily. “By making me ache for what I can’t have?”
“By saving your life,” Pharos said, his voice and face hardening.
I recoiled, shocked by his statement. While Reapers and Angels of Death were not bound by truth like doppelgangers and demon wolves, Pharos had never been one to lie or prone to exaggeration. He always meant what he said. And this time again, I didn’t doubt that he did.
“You were going down a dark path, Lyall,” he continued mercilessly. “Remember that I can see everyone’s life thread. You, little brother, were headed towards an early demise. Amaragave you the opportunity to choose a different path. Luckily for you, you did. Your lifeline is no longer stunted.”
To say that these words struck me hard would be the understatement of the millennium. I could be arrogant and cocky to the point of sometimes thinking myself invincible. As so few things can harm me, I often acted recklessly. My own mortality was never something I even contemplated.
“Maybe that would have been a blessing,” I surprised myself muttering. “What’s the point of an empty life once you’ve tasted happiness? There’s a reason she doesn’t want to live if he doesn’t.”
“I want to smack you so hard right now,” Pharos said with an irritation that stunned me. “Stop being a spoiled brat. You have no idea how many wonderful paths have opened up for you in the past few weeks. And one of them holds your happily ever after. But you must stay the course. Mother gave you exactly what you needed by sending Amara your way.”
“But stay the course for how long?” I demanded, annoyed with how whiny I sounded as I asked the question.
“However long it takes,” he said with a shrug.
“I already waited two hundred and fifty years! How much longer must I wait?!” I exclaimed.
My brother rolled his eyes, the effect made even more uncanny in his partially skeletal face.
“I already waited two hundred and fifty years!” he repeated in an obnoxiously entitled voice. “So fucking what? You call Remus a pup but seem to forget that so are you. Remember that I am three times your age. I was trapped in the pure hell of Cornelius’s mind for double your lifespan before Mother freed me. And you have the nerve to complain about being lonely while enjoying your freedom?”
I scrunched my face, properly chastised.
“Get over yourself and count your blessings,” he concluded sternly.
I muttered an apology—another rare occurrence for me. Of all my siblings—and I had far too many to count all sired by different fathers—Pharos was one of the few I had the closest relationship with. Ranael used to be my conscience until he was taken from me.
Pharos placed a hand on my shoulder and gave it a comforting squeeze.
“Take heart, Brother. Mother killed two birds with one stone. There was no one better than you to help save Amara. By saving her, you bring our brother Ranael closer to his own freedom. Mother took a big leap of faith in you. And you came through for all of us including our brother. I’m proud of you.”
‘I’m proud of you…’
Those were not words spoken often about me, if ever. I huffed and shrugged to hide how deeply his words touched me. Not fooled in the least, my brother’s smile broadened, which further annoyed me.
I was looking for an appropriate snarky remark when I felt a ripple at the back of my head. It took me a second to realize that Remus had escaped my illusion. Normally, it would be nearly impossible for pretty much anyone, even demigods like me. But there was one of very few things that trumped my powers.
I glanced out the window at the full moon. At the same time a terrifying howl rose a far-too-short distance away.
“You have one of the most important decisions of your life to make, my brother,” Pharos said in a soft voice. “Stay the course.”
He gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze then walked to a dark corner of the room, his gait so fluid he appeared to glide over the wooden floors, as Mother often did when she moved from her spinning wheel to her table. He then faded into the shadows, making him completely invisible. Although I couldn’t see him,our blood bond allowed me to continue to sense his presence. He would remain a silent observer until the time came to reap Amara’s soul.
My back stiffened upon hearing the crashing sound of a door slamming open. I silently moved to the opposite corner of the room, closer to the head of the bed, and partially morphed to also blend with the shadows.
My chest constricted as I gazed upon Amara’s peaceful face. Even with the dark veins marring her body and the now ashen color of her skin, she remained breathtakingly beautiful. I couldn’t do much against what would happen next, but I could spare her the pain of death. By keeping her in the current illusion, she wouldn’t suffer through her passing.
My pulse picked up, and my spine tensed as the thumping sound of clawed paws grew nearer. A menacing growl resonated right outside the room before the door burst open. It took everything in me not to lunge at the creature that stepped in.
Standing on two legs, claws extruded, vicious fangs bared, the werewolf stood in the doorway, white foam clinging to the corner of its maw. Unlike when a Lycan partially shifted, the werewolf didn’t have a recognizable human face. He fully had a wolf head with a much larger jaw, crazy glowing red eyes, and elongated arms. The only thing he still had in common with the pup, was the color of the short fur covering his body, and his long fluffy tail
Aside from that, Remus was nowhere to be found in this beast.
Chapter 20
