Chapter 112: Cold Fortress

That emptiness enraged him more than any curse ever could.

"Don’t give me that look," he muttered. "I hate it."

He leaned down.

His breath brushed her lips.

Then he pressed his mouth against hers hard.

He sucked on those soft lips with force, almost desperate.

His palm grabbed the back of her neck and tightened, as if he wanted to force a reaction out of her by sheer pressure.

But the response he wanted never came.

Her slender arms never lifted to wrap around him.

They kept holding the book. Her lips turned red from the force of his sucking, yet they never parted.

Never warmed.

Never answered.

"Damn it." Alpha spat the words angrily.

His fingers dug harder into her jaw for a second.

Then he shoved her face aside and stepped back, breathing roughly.

"Fine," he said, voice turning sharp.

"Keep that pride of yours. I’ve already arranged five packs. Vaelis, Lyris, Vesper, Blackthorn, and Ironfang. Their top Eclipse-rank shadow wolves are already in position around the Black Sea Gorge. When they catch your precious sons, I’ll drag what’s left of them back here and make you watch."

"Um..."

At last Emma uttered a word. It was still filled with indifference.

Alpha’s eyes burned with humiliation.

"You don’t believe they can catch your sons?"

"No."

"Huh. Let’s bet then, Emma." He leaned in again, pinching her chin up. "If they really drag your sons here, you will serve me willingly for one night."

In response, Emma simply lifted her book and continued reading.

Alpha Vaelis grabbed the book and flung it out the window in one full swing.

"What do you take me for? You cheated on me and ran away with another man, yet I still kept you as my wife. You ungrateful wench."

He grabbed her hair and forced her to look into his eyes.

"Don’t tell me you’re still mourning that defective scoundrel."

"Don’t talk about him, Vaelis. You don’t deserve to." Emma’s cold voice finally snapped.

"Oh? Look who’s talking now." His hand tightened.

His breath spread across her face.

"Since you’re speaking, tell me—what did you give your sons that day? To think they dared dig a tunnel right under my nose and I knew nothing. Was that your idea or that of the witches?"

She didn’t wrench away.

She didn’t flinch.

She was immune to the dirty heat of his breath.

"A loser like you will never detect the high bloodline of my sons."

Vaelis’s face contorted sharply.

He hated it most when she called him a loser.

He had been one of the elite princes of his era. Yet in her eyes, he was always just that—a loser.

"Loser? So you think that scoundrel from the wastrel was high bloodline? That mongrel? That bastard? That mixed-blood mutt?"

"You don’t have the wisdom to judge him," Emma said coldly. She pulled his hand away and removed it from her hair.

"If this is all you came to ask, don’t come again."

Alpha did not try to grab her again. His eyes flickered over the red marks his fingers had left on her skin.

Something like regret twisted inside his chest.

"Emma..." His voice choked. "I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you. I always loved you. You are my mate."

At his age, saying those words was harder than conquering territory. He had conquered many. Yet he had failed deeply in his own heart.

"Go back, Vaelis. Don’t say things you don’t understand."

Alpha Vaelis looked at her frosty face for a long while.

Then he stood up.

He wrapped his cape around his shoulders again and straightened to his full height—the Alpha of a great pack.

He turned toward the door, then paused.

"I’ll break that frozen face of yours one way or another. One day I will make you beg me."

The door slammed shut behind him.

In the corridor, Vaelis’s steps were heavy.

His mind, however, drifted somewhere else.

The same frosty face. The same faint fragrance he had caught for a moment before.

That witch.

That damned black witch who came out of nowhere and turned his life upside down—just like Emma.

They were like the same treasure, molded from the same nature.

Both born to bring him ruin.

He could still remember the moment he realized he was attracted to a man.

The humiliation.

The pain.

He had thought he found a substitute for Emma.

Instead, he only sank deeper into the same depression.

He could not forget Emma.

He could not forget that witch.

It was like pouring salt on an old wound.

And yet he still yearned for that same ethereal look.

That same distant, immortal-like beauty. Even the faint fragrance that clung to the boy was similar—crisp frost and a sweetness that refused to fade.

For one reckless second, Vaelis still wanted to reach out and take. Just like he once wanted Emma.

His lips curled into a cold sneer.

This time, he would not be the one left empty-handed.

And most importantly, he wanted to take back what Emma gave to that damned defective mutt’s son. That scoundrel should have left a legacy of aristocracy for them.

For years, he had tried many ways with no result. Emma was like a mother hen. Gripping all five in her chest and keeping all things so hidden, even when she was not around, he couldn’t find anything in her room.

Why such secrecy?

What could it be?

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Moon’s POV

Far away from the cold fortress, in the black sea gorge.

The silver sheen on the water trembled as Moon’s spiritual boundary broke the surface.

Before any of them could fully climb out onto the rocky slope, five shadows dropped from the high cliffs like black hounds.

They landed in a perfect circle silently.

Their feet touched the ground without a single sound. Even Moon could not sense their breathing.

The poison mist that made ordinary guards sluggish seemed to slide off them like water.

Moon’s pupils shrank.

These were not the trainee shadows they had expected.

Each of them carried a presence so condensed it pressed against the skin.

Their wolf spirits were already half-manifested—dark, translucent shapes coiling behind their shoulders, ready to fully form at any second.

That was why Moon’s divine sense had found nothing earlier.

Eclipse-rank spirits!