Beast Gacha System: All Mine-Chapter 211: Flawed Claim

CLICK—SLAM.

The sound echoed through the underground chamber, the heavy metal door above opening, then closing, sealing fate behind it. Two sets of footsteps followed, descending the stone stairs with unhurried pace.

The man in the cell looked up.

His face was a ruin. Still bloodied, the wounds from the courtyard caked and dried, dirt and grime smeared across features that might once have been handsome.

His night in this hole had done nothing to improve his condition. His eyes, dull with exhaustion and something darker, tracked the approaching figures through the bars.

Then he saw her.

A goddess walking on earth.

A holy woman.

Blonde hair, pale as moonlight, cascading around a face that belonged in temples and holy paintings. Her features were serene, composed.

Her desert attire was pale yellow with white accents, simple in its elegance, yet she wore it like a queen wearing gold. She looked like a walking jewel, every inch of her radiating a light that seemed out of place in this darkness.

Behind her, Arkai followed.

His face was dark. Cold. It radiated wrath, the kind that simmered beneath the surface for years and never truly cooled. But there was something else there, too. Something the man recognized, even through his pain and exhaustion.

Fear.

The Wolf King was afraid.

The man’s gaze drifted back to the woman. This woman. She was even prettier than Sienna. And Sienna had been the prettiest woman he had ever seen, the most beautiful creature in any room, the woman he had loved and lost and wanted in ways that had destroyed everything.

So this was Arkai’s new Luna.

He wanted to scoff. Wanted to throw the same poison words that had landed him in this cell. But his throat was raw, his voice gone, his body too broken for mockery.

So he just looked at her.

And silently, behind the wreckage of his face, he sneered.

"Speak."

The woman’s voice cut through the silence of the cell. It was gentle in tone, but carrying no warmth. Just a command.

The man stared at her through the bars.

Speak?

What?

As if he had anything to tell her? As if he owed this stranger, this walking jewel, this goddess any explanation at all?

Ohhh... he got it.

Arkai. That bastard. He had no guts to explain it himself. No courage to face the filth of his own past, to open his own mouth and let the rot spill out. So instead, he brought his new beautiful Luna down here. Made her the interrogator. Made her listen while someone else spoke the words he couldn’t say.

Roarke’s cracked lips twisted into something that might have been a smile, if smiles could hold so much contempt.

"...Of what, ma’am?" His voice was a rasp, barely audible. "Of what your dear alpha had done before you?"

The woman didn’t react. Her face remained serene, her eyes steady. Those impossible eyes, the color of sea and sky and something else.

"Roarke Raul."

The man’s pupils faltered. Just for a moment. Just enough.

She spoke of his name.

"Repeat what you said last night in front of my son," the woman said.

Son.

Rinne...

His son.

The boy who had screamed liar at him and ran. The boy whose tears had burned through the courtyard, whose sobs still echoed in the dark corners of his cell. The boy who would believe him last—if he believed him at all.

Roarke Raul’s breath caught. His ruined face shifted into something else.

"Your son?" He hissed, the word scraping past his ruined throat like broken glass. "That child is mine... and Sienna’s."

The woman’s eyes narrowed.

Not in the way most people narrowed their eyes. Not a strained squint with creased eyes. Something else. Her eyelids dropped low, her gaze slanting down at him from a height he couldn’t reach, and her expression shifted into something unmistakable.

Disgust.

Pure, cold, absolute disgust.

"You said that." Her voice was soft, almost gentle, but the words landed like stones. "But the boy preferred what you said yesterday more. That my alpha was his true father."

Roarke snapped.

"RINNE IS MY AND SIENNA’S SON!" The shout tore from him, echoing off the stone walls of the cell. His hands gripped the bars, pulling himself upright, his ruined face contorted with fury and something that looked almost like grief.

The woman didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

"Then why did you say those words?" Her tone remained gentle. Infuriatingly, impossibly gentle. "Why did you say his father was his own mother’s brother?"

"THAT—"

She knelt.

Slowly, the woman lowered herself to his level. Her pale yellow robes pooled on the dirty floor of the cell, and she didn’t seem to care. Her eyes, those impossible sea-glass eyes, met his through the bars, leveling with his.

"Roarke Raul."

She called his name again.

"Did you regret what you said?"

Her gaze held his.

"Did you regret ruining a child’s life?"

Ruining.

Ruining a child’s life.

Rinne.

His son.

The boy had rejected the notion of being his son, hadn’t he? Screamed liar at him. Ran away. Chose Arkai’s side without a moment’s hesitation.

His entire life—his son’s entire life—this bastard Arkai had stood in his way. Had kept him from knowing the boy. Had kept the boy from knowing him. Every attempt, every desperate reach across the distance—blocked. Denied. Erased.

And now she was telling him that the boy never even wanted to know him at all?

Even faced with the truth? Even with his real father standing right there, bloodied and broken and present, the boy believed Arkai was his true father more than he believed him?

Roarke stared at the woman through the bars.

His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.

No words came. 𝐟𝕣𝗲𝕖𝕨𝗲𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝗲𝚕.𝗰𝚘𝐦

Cecilia stood.

She turned away from the cell, from the man crumpled on its floor, from the wreckage of his face and his words and his excuses. Her pale yellow skirt whispered against the stone as she moved toward the stairs.

"You don’t get to call anyone your son." Her voice was quiet, but it carried, clear and cold as winter water. "Lady Sienna was on heat when you forced her down and impregnated her. You took vulnerability as a chance."

She didn’t look back.

"Arkai told me everything." A pause. "I believe him now."

Arkai moved to follow her, his dark figure a shadow at her heels. Above, at the top of the stairs, Borak emerged with two other massive werewolves.

Cecilia didn’t stop walking.

"Kill him."

Her order was simple.

Roarke’s eyes widened.

This woman, this goddess, this walking jewel, this creature of pale yellow had just condemned him to death without a flicker of hesitation.

"Did you know why I did it?!" The roar tore from him.

Her steps halted.

So did Arkai’s. So did the wolves at the top of the stairs.

"Sienna had loved your coward of an alpha and begged for him to take her for years!" Roarke’s voice cracked, broke, reformed into something jagged and bleeding. "That night she had been begging at him, and I was there! I was there to soothe her heat! I was there for her—not you!"

He pushed himself up against the bars, his ruined face contorted with a fury that was also a wound.

"All you cared about was honor and propriety when a woman was dying on your doorstep—"

"YOU WERE MY CLOSEST RIGHT HAND."

Arkai’s voice cut through the cell like a blade.

The alpha turned to him, snapping like an iceberg flipping in dark water, revealing the black ice beneath.

"You were my brother, Roarke." Arkai’s voice was quieter now, but no less devastating. "And you betrayed me."

He stepped toward the cell. His hand rose, grasping one of the iron bars. His fingers wrapped around it, and bent it. The metal groaned, twisted, gave way before his bare hand like paper before fire.

His hand trembled.

"You betrayed Sienna’s trust." His voice dropped to a whisper, meant only for the space between them. "You ruined her life."

Roarke stared at him, frozen.

Arkai leaned closer, his face inches from the bars, inches from the man who had once been his brother.

"I am not a coward, Roarke."

His voice was cold now.

"I never loved my sister in any way that was wrong. She was my sister."

A pause. A breath.

"My baby sister."

Something broke in Arkai’s eyes.

Something behind it. Something deep and old and wounded.

"Just because my blood didn’t run through her veins." His voice was steady, but the words themselves trembled. "Because otherwise, that uncontrollable instinct would never manifest."

He held Roarke’s gaze.

"That rut I had every month, my body answering to her voice, you should know best."

Another pause. Another breath.

"You should know best how disgusted at myself that made me."

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I will. But I will also do it in my capacity. Why? Because I’m also planning a new title soon. Soon when? I’m not sure yet! But it will come. When the time is right and ripe (Or when there’s a competition where it fits the theme). Enjoy the bonus Chapter! ♥️♥️♥️♥️