The Lunar Crest Academy: Marked by The Lycans-Chapter 225: Blood Beneath the Falls

*****

The waterfall roared like an unending scream.

It thundered down the jagged face of the mountain, white water crashing violently over black stone, mist rising thick enough to blur the world beyond it. From the outside, nothing suggested what lay behind the cascade, no sign that the mountain was hollowed out, no hint that beneath the relentless rush of water existed a wound carved deep into the earth.

A cave.

Hidden. Ancient. Forgotten.

Behind the curtain of water, the air shifted, cooler, heavier, saturated with the damp scent of stone and decay. The caverns stretched inward like the veins of a dying beast, their walls slick with moisture, the ground uneven. The only light came from torches set deep into the rock, their flames flickering weakly, casting warped shadows that twisted and writhed along the walls.

Footsteps echoed.

Measured and unhurried.

Conan Valerius Hunter, The Leader, moved through the darkness as though it belonged to him.

His boots struck the stone with deliberate calm, his long black coat brushing against his legs as he descended deeper into the cavern. His dark hair hung loose around his shoulders, catching the torchlight as he passed. His expression was composed, almost serene, as though this was not a place of suffering, but a sanctuary.

He walked until the cavern widened.

And there, at its center, stood the Alpha King.

Ronan Valerius Hunter was bound in thick, rune etched silved chains that glimmered faintly with suppressed magic. His wrists were shackled high above his head, arms stretched painfully upward, forcing his weight onto his legs, legs that were also bound, silver biting deep into his flesh that had already been pushed far past endurance.

He had been standing like that for over a month.

His head hung forward, chin resting against his chest, long black hair streaked with grey falling in tangled curtains around his face. Blood had dried along his arms where the chains had cut into his skin, only to be reopened again and again as his body trembled under its own weight. His shoulders sagged, his ribs stark beneath torn clothing, every breath shallow and labored.

He looked worn down.

But not broken.

Conan stopped a few feet in front of him and smiled.

"Hello, brother."

The words echoed softly, almost gently, through the cavern.

Ronan did not respond at first.

Conan tilted his head slightly, examining him as one might examine an old relic, something once powerful, now reduced to a shadow of itself.

"Ever since I chained you up here," Conan continued conversationally, "I haven't had the chance to visit. I've been quite busy."

He stepped closer, boots crunching faintly on gravel.

"Trying to kill your son."

The change was immediate.

Ronan's head snapped up.

Despite the exhaustion, despite the agony etched into every line of his body, his eyes burned with ferocity, raw, undiminished, terrifying. The kind of fire that no chain, no spell, no torture could ever extinguish.

"Don't you dare touch my son," Ronan growled.

The sound scraped out of him like broken glass, but it carried weight. Power. Threat.

Conan laughed.

"Oh, brother," he said lightly. "So you do care about your family after all."

He circled Ronan slowly, boots echoing, eyes sharp and assessing.

"Too bad," Conan went on, his tone darkening, "you can't do anything about it anymore."

He stopped directly in front of Ronan, lifting his chin just enough to force eye contact.

"You are incapacitated," Conan said softly. "You are powerless. And you are at my mercy."

Ronan's lips curled back in a snarl.

"If you lay a finger on Kieran," he said, voice low and lethal, "I will break out of these chains with the last ounce of strength in my body. I will come for you. And when I do, which I will, I'll flay you alive, rip off your head, and hang it in the middle of the Kingdom for vultures to feast on."

There was no hesitation in his voice.

No bluff.

Conan stared at him in silence.

For a long moment, the only sound was the distant roar of the waterfall bleeding through the stone.

Then Conan's expression twisted.

"I am your brother, Ronan," he said, his voice rising. "Your older brother. Your family."

He stepped closer, fury sharpening his features.

"Where was all this ferocity when Liandrin came for me?" Conan demanded. "When she plunged a dagger straight into my heart?"

His voice cracked with rage as he continued, words spilling faster now.

"You did nothing. You accepted it. Worse, you looked relieved." He scoffed bitterly. "You didn't even try to avenge me."

Conan's eyes burned.

"You had every opportunity to kill her. To punish her. To make an example of her." His hands clenched into fists. "But you didn't. You let her go."

He laughed harshly.

"You banished her to the Outlands so people wouldn't question you. So it would look like justice had been served. You were happy that I was gone so you could take my position as the next Alpha King."

Conan leaned in close, voice dripping with venom.

"Father thought I was the only power hungry monster in this family," he said. "How wrong he was. Every Valerius Hunter is a power monger, Ronan. It runs in our blood."

His lips curled. "And you are no exception." 𝘧𝓇𝑒𝑒𝑤ℯ𝑏𝓃𝘰𝑣ℯ𝘭.𝘤ℴ𝘮

Ronan lifted his head higher, chains rattling softly as he met his brother's gaze.

"You're right," he said calmly.

Conan froze.

"I never cared about you as family," Ronan continued. "Not when I could see what Father refused to."

His eyes hardened.

"I saw what you did to Liandrin. I saw how you broke her, how you twisted her, how you used her like a tool."

Conan's jaw tightened.

"So yes," Ronan said, his voice steady, unyielding, "when she came for you and plunged a dagger into your heart, I was happy."

Conan's eyes widened.

"I didn't want to punish her," Ronan went on. "I wanted to reward her. But I had to follow the law. I had to make it look right, so I only banished her."

He leaned forward as much as the chains allowed.

"And I don't regret any of it."

Conan's breathing grew heavy.

"The only thing I do regret though," Ronan said coldly, "is not checking your body earlier myself. Not ripping out your dark heart to make sure you stayed dead."

The cavern shook with Conan's scream.

Rage exploded out of him as he lunged forward, claws flashing. He slashed across Ronan's chest in a brutal arc, tearing flesh, blood splattering against stone.

Ronan grunted but he did not cry out.

His eyes never left Conan's.

Conan stepped back, chest heaving, eyes wild.

"Do you know why I haven't killed you yet?" Conan snarled.

He wiped Ronan's blood from his claws slowly by rubbing it off on his black coat.

"It's because death would be too easy," he said. "I don't just want to end your life."

A cruel smile spread across his face.

"I want to break you first."

Ronan's breath came ragged, blood dripping down his torso.

Conan leaned in close, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Your dear wife," he said softly, "the secret Ghosthound Queen…"

Ronan stiffened.

"She's already gone," Conan continued, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes. "You felt it, didn't you? The moment she died."

Ronan's jaw trembled, a sound tearing from his throat that was half snarl, half sob.

"The only one left in your family" Conan went on, straightening, "is your precious son."

Ronan thrashed against the chains, roaring, veins standing out in his neck.

"I am going to find Kieran," Conan said calmly. "I'm going to replace every drop of his blood with wolfsbane, just like I did to you, to make him powerless"

He turned away, already walking.

"And then," Conan added casually, "I'll drag him here."

Ronan screamed.

"And I'll slit his throat," Conan finished, not even looking back, "right in front of you."

"No!" Ronan bellowed, chains rattling violently as he fought them with everything he had left. "Don't you dare! Conan!"

But Conan was already disappearing into the shadows, his laughter echoing faintly through the cavern as the waterfall roared on, endless, indifferent, and merciless.